tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45726707171837010692024-02-08T10:36:26.968-08:00SAHM I AMRamblings of a Stay at Home Mom.Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-7896015953785206772010-03-20T22:55:00.001-07:002010-03-20T23:00:39.046-07:00How can I not post this?It would be wrong to NOT post this. Today Tylo finally learned to pose for the camera! For a while now she's been smiling on cue, if you can call her one eye wink, tilted head, showing all her teeth face a smile, but once the camera comes out she just wants to grab at it and push the buttons. Which means we hardly ever take pictures or videos of her an more. Today I tried again and, big surprise, she actually stood still and smiled!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Here's that award-winning smile:<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/S6W18YG81-I/AAAAAAAAAL4/bQJ7liPq_4o/s1600-h/best+smile+ever.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5450962972870236130" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/S6W18YG81-I/AAAAAAAAAL4/bQJ7liPq_4o/s400/best+smile+ever.JPG" /></a><br /><br />-Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-44131211945142713062010-03-10T16:23:00.000-08:002010-03-10T16:44:06.415-08:00Awaiting baby #2That's right - I'm pregnant! 15 weeks to be exact. That means I'm just big enough to look like I put on weight but no one can tell why. And, unlike the first round, my belly didn't nicely pop out into an obvious baby bump. It just kinda turned flabbier, protruded more, and looks more jelly-like. Oh, how fun. <br /><br />Things are looking up. The worst of the nausea seems to be over, which was way better than last time any way, thanks to some great medication prescribed by my new doctor. (The awful side effects are a different story.) I'm still exhausted all the time but a lot less than before. I actually get up to play with Tylo now, instead of letting her watch endless hours of tv while I sleep on the couch. I'm in no way back to supermom, but there's an inkling of hope that will come back one day.<br /><br />And Tylo - my how she's grown! The little terror is now 21 months old. She is all over the place with her crooked walk that looks like she's going to fall any second. She's still incredibly cautious, but must be less so because it seems she's falling more than normal. Which also means a lot more tears and boo-boos than I'm used to. A few times a day I'm consoling her. Mostly because she tried to run, falls flat on her face. Or tries to climb into her chair and loses her balance. <br /><br />Tylo has an incredible, fun, loving personality. She loves to semi-run toward me for a hug with arms outstretched, mouth open, smiling eyes. She picks up objects and pretends they're microphones. She imitates my silly songs, and holds her arms to her sides like a chicken and twists when she dances. She loves pretty shirts but refuses to wear hair clips in her hair (won't let me wear them either). She also has become quite attached to her current pair of shoes and cries when I try other pairs on her. What is up with that?<br /><br />Sadly, her shyness has taken a turn for the worse. Whereas before she would just stare wearily at strangers, making sure they didn't come too close, now she completely shuts down, freezes her little body, and hide her face against mommy. Or turn away and try her best not to look. If they did come too close, she would burst into tears. Makes it really difficult to be social or to even think about leaving her at a daycare to make new friends while mommy gets some rest. Funny, strangers don't seem to bother her until they are paying attention to her. When we're at the mall she will get within 2 feet of other people walking around. <br /><br />And the girl knows SOOO much. Things I've taught her maybe once a week ago she actually remembers. Sure, there are lots of times you can't tell what she's saying, but SHE knows. Try to correct her, and it's just the same odd sound you heard before. "Thank you" will forever be "doo-doo". "Milk" will remain "muck". <br /><br />Tylo's favorite word of the moment? "Stuck". She can apply it to anything. Can't pull the toy out of the box? "Stuck". Can't reach something mommy intentionally put on a high shelf and out of reach? "Stuck". Tired of sitting in her high chair? "Stuck". <br /><br />Waiting for baby #2 and being completely unprepared is interesting. We are currently looking again for our new and permanent home, hopefully before I'm due in August. I find out if it's a boy or girl April 12th. If you know me, you know I HATE HATE HATE being pregnant. So needless to say, I'm rooting for a boy so I never have to be pregnant ever again. Though it sure would be fun for Tylo to have a little sister. I have no idea yet if I'm going to get a double stroller, turn in the RX for a momvan, or how I'm going to manage two little ones at the same time. Right now I'm too busy making sure I get my rest and not neglect Tylo completely. <br /><br />_Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-77480686445667991562009-12-12T12:59:00.000-08:002009-12-13T11:15:37.585-08:0018 months . . . and counting<div><br /><br /><div>Happy Holidays!</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Peppermint bark, singing snoopy, tap-dancing snowmen, candy cane mylar balloons that Tylo can wrestle with. These are some of my favorite things this season. My husband and I have gone through at least 3 batches of homemade peppermint bark already this month. I'm just glad I'm not paying $20 a box at Williams-Sonoma for it.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>After finally (kinda) cleaning out the unpacked boxes in our two spare bedrooms, we came across an old memory chip that contained never before seen videos and pictures of Tylo from early 2009. AMAZING how much a baby can change. Seeing her all baby-faced and chubby almost makes me yearn for those days where she couldn't yet move around and was perfectly content to just lay there and stare at my face. Now she is all over the place, crawling on me, reaching for whatever I have in my hand, pulling at my hair, asking asking for more more more (one of the six or so words she now knows). </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Here's a pic we just found. The accompanying video of her with shirt on head is so adorable I must have watched it 10 times since finding it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SyU85qbmjDI/AAAAAAAAALk/99vDcNdlETs/s1600-h/happy+pirate.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414801088323161138" style="WIDTH: 338px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SyU85qbmjDI/AAAAAAAAALk/99vDcNdlETs/s400/happy+pirate.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Here is a current list of words that I've determined Tylo can say and truly understands the meaning of:</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>More</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Eat</div><br /><br /><br /><div>What's That?</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Yes</div><br /><br /><br /><div>No</div><br /><br /><br /><div>Owl</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p>Tylo still isn't an expert walker yet, and we are concerned (her pediatrician recommends seeing a neurologist at this point), but hopefully she will be running around here in no time. </p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p>Happy Holidays everyone!</p><p> </p><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SyU9Lqa7WQI/AAAAAAAAALs/iQxgAUm02Yg/s1600-h/gilead+holiday+party+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414801397557975298" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SyU9Lqa7WQI/AAAAAAAAALs/iQxgAUm02Yg/s400/gilead+holiday+party+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p></p><br /><p>(our would-be holiday card pic if only Tylo looked)</p><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><p>_<br /></p><br /><br /><div></div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-32975981018284638122009-08-05T13:35:00.000-07:002009-08-05T13:50:30.125-07:00Geez Mom, what happened???<div>Sigh. </div><br /><div><br />Tylo will one day read this blog (if she cares) and wonder why I stopped posting. "Did I get uninteresting?" she will wonder. "Did you stop caring?" </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Of course not, honey. Mommy just got, well busy. You always wanted to play with me. I stopped staying up until 3 in the morning so I wouldn't sleep on the couch at 8 in the morning while you watched your 3rd episode of Wonder Pets. I wanted to be a good mom.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I realize though that I would have liked to know what the first three years of my life were like, because those are the ones we can't remember. I would like to know what my mom's life was like, brand new to the country, dirt poor, watching three kids under the age of 3. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So I vow to keep this going, no matter how sporadiacly, until Tylo is old enough to have her own memories. I have to keep this one short and somewhat bulleted, because I have lots to do.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>With that said, let's see what has been going on with us lately. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We are moving! We found a 4 bed/2 bath house to rent in Foster City, and I am sooo excited. Space, space and more space!!! Storage room! A garage! Tylo gets her own room! An open floor plan that allows me to fence Tylo in the living area while I cook/clean/do laundry in the kitchen! A backyard! The park just 4 houses down! (Can you tell how excited I am?)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Packing has been a long slow process because 1) we have a lot of sh*t (and I must call it that because it really is just that - there is no better name for it); 2) Tylo still needs to eat, go out and get fresh air, nap (which means I can't make too much noise). I can't exactly live off of take-out for the next few weeks because I still need to cook healthy, well-balanced meals for her; 3) Tylo doesn't like it when she can't see me in the room so packing with her in it is out of the question because she likes to climb in boxes and being away from her isn't an option either.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Tylo still isn't walking. When she started standing on her own at about 11 months, everyone predicted it would just be a matter of weeks before she was toddling around. Well, at 14 months she refuses to even practice walking. Oh well.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And really exciting - I won a dinner for two at Morton's! How cool is that? Don't you wish you had the time to read blogs and enter contests? This is perfect because HP and I just celebrated the 7 year anniversary of the day we met. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="http://www.foodgal.com/2009/08/food-gal-contest-winner-of-the-mortons-steakhouse-dinner-plus-a-new-dinner-prize-up-for-grabs/#more-4926">http://www.foodgal.com/2009/08/food-gal-contest-winner-of-the-mortons-steakhouse-dinner-plus-a-new-dinner-prize-up-for-grabs/#more-4926</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>And here's a pic of Tylo - with just enough hair to throw a clip in. </div><div> </div><br /><div></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SnnwdzcMajI/AAAAAAAAALc/QWA0Tv6R-N8/s1600-h/IMG_2624.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366584825803991602" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SnnwdzcMajI/AAAAAAAAALc/QWA0Tv6R-N8/s400/IMG_2624.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Whew - wrote this post in under 10 minutes. Back to work!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>-</div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-51175295550025376602009-07-14T11:44:00.000-07:002009-07-14T12:00:23.861-07:00Such sweet pillow talk<div><div>Tylo is 13 months now, just learned to stand on her own a week ago, and wants to have conversations now more than ever. Used to be that she would just repeat what I said, maybe point and say a few words on her own. Now she likes to babble back to me when I ask her questions. Yesterday she started saying "yah" whenever I ask her a question. What's cuter than a conversation that goes like this?</div><div><br /> </div><div>Me: So what do you want to do today, Tylo? Want to go to the park?</div><div>Tylo: YAH</div><div>Me: Ok, let's get ready. Can we go change your diaper? </div><div>Tylo: YAH</div><div>Me: Oh no, you stinky girl. Did you poo-poo? (She really didn't, I'm just randomly asking questions at this point.)</div><div>Tylo: YAH</div><div>Me: Are you a poo-poo monster? </div><div>Tylo: YAH</div><div>Me: Forget it, let's just stay home and take nap. Want to take a nap?</div><div>Tylo: YAH</div><div><br /><br />Good thing she doesn't know the word no, huh? </div><div><br /><br />We finally had a chance to take Tylo for her first swim recently. I can't think of much cuter than a baby girl in a bathing suit.<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUltxt0KI/AAAAAAAAALE/vUlhsdGCNzA/s1600-h/swimsuit-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358391401072414882" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUltxt0KI/AAAAAAAAALE/vUlhsdGCNzA/s400/swimsuit-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />She was really scared at first, and did not want to go in.<br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUtS93HlI/AAAAAAAAALM/l8TvdMjW3vY/s1600-h/swimming+with+mommy-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358391531314552402" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUtS93HlI/AAAAAAAAALM/l8TvdMjW3vY/s400/swimming+with+mommy-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div></div><div><br /> </div><div>She loved it in the end because her daddy glided her back and forth through the water.</div><div><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUzetzIJI/AAAAAAAAALU/WnELh8lQAEg/s1600-h/swimming+with+daddy-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358391637547622546" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SlzUzetzIJI/AAAAAAAAALU/WnELh8lQAEg/s400/swimming+with+daddy-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>_</div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-90042015386209554712009-06-12T02:27:00.001-07:002009-06-12T11:27:19.520-07:00Tylo turns one!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I feel a little like I climbed a mountain (I know, how would I know what climbing a mountain feels like?). My daughter turned 1 last week. It flew by fast and all that (the last few months did anyway) but it was hard. And somehow, she's still alive, breathing, and very happy. I managed to get through the first year without forgetting her at the mall, dropping her on the floor, or leaving her in the bathtub. We even learned long ago how to avoid leaky diapers. I practically forgot all the struggles of the early months and conquered the 12 month mark with flying colors. I'm a pro at packing for our day trips, I know exactly what snacks or what drinks at what moments will avoid melt-downs. I know which shopping center has acceptable changing areas and when to just change her in the backseat of the car. My daughter only got a hint of diaper rash once in the entire 12 months, and that ended within a day. She eats almost anything I put in front of her (too much, if you ask me) and sleeps through the night most nights. Yup, I'm a bonafide pro at this point. Which isn't to say by next week I'll once again be the amateur mother of the 12 1/2 month old.</span><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Before I had Tylo I never understood why parents have these obscenely lavish parties for their 1 year olds that are so obviously oblivious to everything going on around them. Usually they're even afraid of all the unfamiliar faces. But I get it now. The first few months are so hard, especially if it is your first, that having your child survive to age one is truly an accomplishment. It means we parents managed to not screw up royally. After we first brought Tylo home from the hospital, HP kept saying over and over how amazing it is that the hospital actually let us take her home (HP and I have no baby experience whatsoever). Um, hello? Did I not carry her for 9 months, barf every day, several times a day for 8 months, and push her out of MY you-know-what? How could they stop us from taking her home? But I got what he was saying. We had no clue what to do with a baby. Luckily, it really wasn't that hard to figure out what needed to be done and when. Doing it without going crazy is a whole other story . . . </span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So even though we didn't have a huge bash for Tylo's first birthday (just grandparents, siblings, and cousins), I really wanted to make it special for her. I prepped for the entire week.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Thursday was spent making my first decorated sugar cookies ever. I was so disappointed when they got all fat and ambiguous after baking. I mean, do these look like ducks to you?</span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKaZaCiAwI/AAAAAAAAAK8/XW-xMYSBbdI/s1600-h/before+they+were+ducks.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346505468919546626" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKaZaCiAwI/AAAAAAAAAK8/XW-xMYSBbdI/s400/before+they+were+ducks.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Luckily it came together after the frosting was put on. It was time-consuming, but surprisingly easy to paint on the frosting. Before you knew it, I had (both skinny and fat) ducks! I found a heart cutter hidden in my cabinets and played with those too.</span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKW6KPYloI/AAAAAAAAAKE/60iNCj218KM/s1600-h/ducky+cookies+-+small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346501633567659650" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKW6KPYloI/AAAAAAAAAKE/60iNCj218KM/s400/ducky+cookies+-+small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKXFtx-oOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/qvVKEwT4IiE/s1600-h/heart+cookie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346501832086560994" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKXFtx-oOI/AAAAAAAAAKM/qvVKEwT4IiE/s400/heart+cookie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Friday was set aside for making the cake and cupcakes. It was so important for me to make my daughter's first cake. I wanted to make a cake that Tylo could actually eat too, and I'm not ready to give her chocolate. So we did a doctored yellow cake and I simply bought frosting to make it easier. It really wasn't smart to buy whipped frosting. Easier to spread, sure, but none of the frosting decorations held their shape. Once out of the fridge it was only a matter of time before it started dripping. It took me weeks to come up with a design that I could easily do that was still appealing to a one year old. I wanted to add flowers and such, but the frosting was not cutting it. Not sure she cared how it looked, but she LOVED eating it. </span></div></div><div></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKZd45FyxI/AAAAAAAAAKk/ILdyBCKT1IE/s1600-h/duck+pond+cake+-+small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346504446409296658" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKZd45FyxI/AAAAAAAAAKk/ILdyBCKT1IE/s400/duck+pond+cake+-+small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>I've never seen the girl eat so seriously.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKYpPT1bRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/VflXlFEOQ44/s1600-h/tylo+eating+cake+2-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346503541893983506" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKYpPT1bRI/AAAAAAAAAKU/VflXlFEOQ44/s400/tylo+eating+cake+2-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Leave me alone Mommy, I'm busy here!<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKaCvm8QpI/AAAAAAAAAK0/PRl2N4Cj7nk/s1600-h/unwanted+kiss+-+small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346505079572415122" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKaCvm8QpI/AAAAAAAAAK0/PRl2N4Cj7nk/s400/unwanted+kiss+-+small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a pic of her playing with her older cousins:</div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKW0IZ4qHI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/WBf_Ag45phw/s1600-h/cousins.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346501529995618418" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKW0IZ4qHI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/WBf_Ag45phw/s400/cousins.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>And Tylo, refusing to wear her new hat.<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKZ8oDo1OI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2pwJeGhEXBE/s1600-h/tylo%27s+new+hat-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346504974466077922" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKZ8oDo1OI/AAAAAAAAAKs/2pwJeGhEXBE/s400/tylo%27s+new+hat-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div>The best (and only) family picture we could get. With all the excitement going on, Tylo did not want to stay seated for pictures.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKYwNSShEI/AAAAAAAAAKc/CSuplyp7gFw/s1600-h/tylo%27s+1st+bday-small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346503661609714754" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 303px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SjKYwNSShEI/AAAAAAAAAKc/CSuplyp7gFw/s400/tylo%27s+1st+bday-small.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I couldn't have asked for a better birthday for her. She really did enjoy herself. Hopefully next year we can invite little friends for her too! </div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div>-</div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-25733038520589366102009-05-28T01:46:00.000-07:002009-05-28T01:53:23.629-07:00Better find a house before the baby comes . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So yesterday I was at Bed Bath & Beyond chatting with the lady at the check-out, telling her we were trying to find a house. She says, "oh yeah - you want to find a house before the baby comes". </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I said "I already have a baby - she's almost one!". <br /><br />The lady proceeds to look at my mid-section and changes the subject because she realized she just called me pregnant. <br /><br />Damn, I knew the babydoll shirt I was wearing would make me look pregnant, but I didn't have much else clean that didn't need ironing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">You would think that would scare me into getting my butt in shape, but nope, not really. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I deserve it. Almost one year later and I am the same weight I was two weeks after giving birth. Lost five, gained it all back. Sigh.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Once I was in the kitchen with four of HP's friends' wives and I said, "Oh, I'm the only one here not pregnant!"</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">One of the girls said, "I'm not pregnant." </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Duh - I just passed her one-month old baby in the hallway. But she did look 6 months pregnant, to be perfectly honest. But that's also totally allowed. What's not allowed is looking 6 months pregnant one year later. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">At least the lady thought I was pregnant and not just fat!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">_</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-25144554331773602782009-05-12T15:41:00.000-07:002009-05-12T16:08:28.371-07:00Summer also means Kettle Corn<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Seems a bit silly to write about kettle corn, I admit. But I love love love kettle corn so much that I think it does deserve to be written about. Especially since I just found out that I can have THE BEST kettle corn any time that I want. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Used to be that I had to wait until the county fair came around during the summer, or sometimes if I got lucky, I might go to a ball game that was selling some. I know they sell it at the farmer's markets, but I sheepishly admit that I never get out of the house in time to make it there. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Then suddenly, kettle corn was all over the supermarket shelves. I was very skeptical. How on earth could they keep the buttery, sweet goodness crisp if it's not freshly popped? I've had pre-popped pop corn in packages before, and they always disappointed. Not to mention they are usually over-priced.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">One day at Whole Foods, I caved at the display and decided to try a bag. The brand was called Popcorn, Indiana, and was on sale for $3 from $4 so I thought, what the heck? Turns out I was wrong about the sale and the bag rung up for $4 at check out. This better be some good stuff, I thought.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And it was. It was soooo good - better than any kettle corn I've ever tasted. Each and every kernel was crispy with the sweet/salty coating, something you don't get from the fresh popped stuff (as if they were skimpy with it or something), in which I usually have to pick out the browner and shiny kernels since those are usually the crispy ones. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since then I've also tried the Trader Joe's Brand. It's half the price at $2 a bag, and pretty good too. The kernels are crispy but they don't have the same coating the Popcorn, Indiana bag does. I've also finally made it to the farmer's market and bought some of the fresh popped stuff (Gold Rush) at $5 for an enormous bag. What a disappointment. And it was terrible compared to Popcorn, Indiana. Many of the kernels were stale, and I had to fish for the good pieces. And who needs that much popcorn anyway? </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I no longer need to wait for special occasions, and I went out and bought another bag right away of Popcorn, Indiana. So if you love kettle corn as much as I do, buy Popcorn, Indiana. Don't eat directly from the bag and wrap up air-tight each time and it will be just as good in two weeks. And trust me, it took a lot of will power to keep the bag around for that long.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sgn_2Q7KwgI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/lmZIsgJ2rRA/s1600-h/kettle+corn+pic.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335076541318218242" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sgn_2Q7KwgI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/lmZIsgJ2rRA/s400/kettle+corn+pic.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><p>-</p>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-70582384873863309932009-05-09T10:28:00.000-07:002009-05-09T10:41:31.763-07:00You know it's summer when you see the goats<div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">They're here! At the beginning of every summer they bring out the goats here in the hills. I'm talking like 100+ goats, to eat down the shrubs and grass in the hills to prevent fires. It's a pretty neat thing to be exiting the freeway and seeing them right there along the street, chomping away. The next day they're on the otherside of the street, or in the hills by the parking lot, or wherever. I look forward to seeing them every year - it means the warm weather is here! One year someone actually tried to shoot at them and killed one or more. Isn't that awful? They're just innocent little goats. Poor things, probably get packed in a truck like sardines every night before they're schlepped off to another patch of overgrown weeds. </span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Summer also means I get to dress my baby in cute skimpy little baby clothes. And she finally looks less like a boy! Not that people still don't mistake her for one. The other day at dinner this older lady calls Tylo "cute little fella". She was wearing pastel yellow. And then after I repeated the name 3 times she started calling her Taylor.</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And, summer means shorts and endless slathering of stinky self-tanner on the whitest legs you will ever see. I told HP I needed to go buy shorts and he reminded me that when we first started dating I never wore shorts. Or sneakers for that matter. I was all about the skirts and sandals, or flip flops. Well, I can't exactly tumble around the park with my baby in a skirt and flip flops are too risky when carrying a squirmy 11 month old. Plus I have this fear that someone will try to steal my baby and I won't be able to run after them in flip flops. So, here I am, in shorts and sneakers. Yet I still have a full face of makeup on, even for a trip to the supermarket. Some things never change I guess. I have stopped wearing lipstick, so I can pepper Tylo with kisses all day long.</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo and I had the best day today, and I manage to capture a few smiles. She was even in bed by 8. Incredible!</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span> </div><div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_8JWfQOI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DO6lQJjUuBU/s1600-h/tylo+laughing-small.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333880373713518818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_8JWfQOI/AAAAAAAAAJo/DO6lQJjUuBU/s400/tylo+laughing-small.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_olAKo-I/AAAAAAAAAJg/zNGJzWkGQ3c/s1600-h/tylo%27s+house-small.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333880037538702306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_olAKo-I/AAAAAAAAAJg/zNGJzWkGQ3c/s400/tylo%27s+house-small.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_Tf2EC7I/AAAAAAAAAJY/N1GRSXnv1W8/s1600-h/big+smile-small.jpg"><img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333879675376896946" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SgW_Tf2EC7I/AAAAAAAAAJY/N1GRSXnv1W8/s400/big+smile-small.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div>-</div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-83131337260997779542009-05-06T01:35:00.000-07:002009-05-06T01:49:06.566-07:00Happy First Mother's Day to you, Tylo<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I got this mass email today, giving activity ideas for Mother's Day. It said to write a letter to your baby, explaining what it's like to be a mother. What a great idea! This blog is for her, and someday I would love for her to read it, but to be honest, I don't trust the internet. I feel it's not tangible enough and can easily be wiped away in one fell swoop. I am all about greeting cards, so I dug one out and began writing . . . and writing . . . and writing. Before I knew it, I had a card and a full page of very messy handwriting. So what the hell, I'm going to type it up anyway, just so I can have two ways to keep this precious letter intact. It's my Happy 1st Mother's Day note to Tylo:<br /><br /><em>Dearest Tylo,</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>This is my first Mother's Day, and I wanted to write you a note that one day you will read on your first Mother's Day. I hope when that day comes your baby will bring you all the joy and wonder that you have brought to me. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Each smile, each snuggle, each shriek - I cannot go a few minutes without smiling at the thought of the cute thing you did earlier in the day. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Today, you played with your gumball machine. Each time a ball rolled out, you would turn to Daddy and me, waiting for us to clap and cheer. Then you would clap and yell so loud, and grin the biggest grin. We finally got it on video! You're also crawling really fast, and you love to climb over Daddy on the floor. Today you must have pulled my glasses off about 20 times, getting them dirty with your tiny fingerprints. . Then you'd try to put them back on my face, but you can't quite get that part right yet. Oh well, at least you tried!</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>I was so proud when you ate a big pasta dinner, peas and chicken and all! You kept insisting that you hold the fork yourself, but if I didn't guide it toward your mouth, the food would fall off when you twisted it. Then you would complain when I tried to take the fork back to get another bite!</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>My favorite part of the day is hearing you wake up. I open my eyes, and there you are, standing in your crib, watching me, very excited that your mommy is now awake. I wave and say "Hi!" and you wave back and say "Ahhh!"</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>You know so many words now, and oddly enough, you stopped saying the words you used to know, like blow, wow, and dada. These days you say mom (a lot), bear, hi (ahhh), and baby. You give a lot of love taps. Daddy and I have learned to tap each other to say I love you too. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Each day, each week, is so different with you and I hope I've given you a glimpse of what my first mother's day was like. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Watching you grow is amazing - there is nothing worth more in the world. </em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Happy 1st Mother's Day to you.</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>Love,</em><br /><em>Mom</em><br /><em></em><br /><em>-</em></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-50970131303592021132009-04-16T00:53:00.001-07:002009-04-16T01:09:02.729-07:00Snuggle Bear<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo is 10 1/2 months old! Just weeks away from the big 1 year old. It's so amazing how fast it went by. The first 6 months felt painfully slow, actually. I mean, nothing really happened. I would spend all day talking and making faces at her, and she would smile here and there, but really - it wasn't much. Then, POOF. It's like she started understanding everything, rolling all over, then crawling on her own, shouting out orders, mimicking several words, laughing at my silliness. Now it all seems to be happening so fast.<br /><br />Since I last wrote about it, Tylo is still snuggling. For a few weeks now she and I play the "Where's Bear?" game. After she wakes up, I ask her "where's bear?" and she looks around her crib, finds it, and hands it to me to kiss hello. Then she takes it back and hugs it with a big smile, sometimes kisses it herself. Yesterday when I asked her "where's bear?" she went and snuggled with it. It was so darn cute! I caught it on video and got a sliver of it on camera too:<br /><br /></span><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sebmm7XhndI/AAAAAAAAAJI/ggaDjVLmWKo/s1600-h/snuggle+bear.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325197165857971666" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sebmm7XhndI/AAAAAAAAAJI/ggaDjVLmWKo/s400/snuggle+bear.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I love watching her learn to do new things and knowing I was the one that taught her. We proudly show Daddy all her new tricks when he gets home, or all the cute moments I managed to capture on camera that day. After all, he only gets to see her for a couple of hours a day. I would never manage to get by on so little of Tylo.</span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">You know what the best part about being a mom to a 10 month old is? It's that she loves me so unconditionally. This little pint-sized girl thinks I'm the funniest, funnest, best mom in the world. You should see the way she laughs at me sometimes. And even when I leave her crying out and shrieking for me at night because I left her alone in her crib in the dark, she forgets about it the next day after a good night sleep and a morning bottle, and gives me the biggest 6-tooth grin there is.<br /><br />We're not all made to be mothers. But if you are, and you choose to take the plunge, it's moments like those that make it so worth the pregnancy pain.<br /><br />-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-46216448072591786792009-04-10T01:57:00.000-07:002009-04-13T01:46:58.183-07:00Is it that hard to get a good steak?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Wednesday was HP's birthday! We knew we totally deserved some extravagant high-end dinner, despite these economic times, but weren't sure what to do with our precious alone (no baby) time. Michael Minna and Chez Panisse were booked solid. So we saw Alexander's Steakhouse on Check Please, Bay Area and thought everything looked yummy, and interesting. It was like 75 miles of a drive each way, dropping off Tylo at the In-laws and all, but it would be worth it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Well, I might as well have flushed our $250 down the drain. It was the most expensive meal we had out together, nearly $400 if you include the wine. Somehow we convinced ourselves that we were deserving, tired, overworked parents we are. Alright, it was not that bad. But it was truly a disappointment. On a scale of 1 to 10, I would rate the steaks we had a 1 and a 2. My dried out, mushy, sad looking filet a 1, and his juicy and BBQ sauce-slathered 2 lb rib-eye a 2. I've had better steaks from Safeway. Much better. And those are usually like $8 each. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Outside of the steaks, the appetizers and desserts were just okay. HP said the best thing of the night were the truffled french fries. I thought they were good, but not $12 good. They did give complimentary homemade cotton candy at the end, which I was pretty happy about. I love me some cotton candy.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">At least we got to have 6 hours to get dressed up and spend with each other, not watching over the baby's next meal, changing, nap, etc. So that was well worth it. But next time I'm craving a good steak, I think I'll just make it at home. I do not recommend Alexander's Steakhouse, even if you need a good date night. Go to Morton's or Ruth's Chris instead.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL5YAoVCpI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EqhZcwYb6Mc/s1600-h/Alexander%27s+Steakhouse.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324091900386675346" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL5YAoVCpI/AAAAAAAAAIo/EqhZcwYb6Mc/s400/Alexander%27s+Steakhouse.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span> </p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here is HP's glistening Rib-Eye, which he ate about a quarter of. If it were any good, we probably could have polished it off between the two of us.</span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL6GZoX_nI/AAAAAAAAAIw/fNc4AldvBgk/s1600-h/rib+eye.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324092697371737714" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL6GZoX_nI/AAAAAAAAAIw/fNc4AldvBgk/s400/rib+eye.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And here is my dried out excuse of a filet. See how it doesn't glisten, like, at all? No juices ever came out of that thing.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I think it was the worst steak I've ever had.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL6jm9aPZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/u8upNY1uoEM/s1600-h/filet.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324093199165832594" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SeL6jm9aPZI/AAAAAAAAAI4/u8upNY1uoEM/s400/filet.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-39642802034778978802009-03-27T02:02:00.000-07:002009-03-27T02:18:35.107-07:00Enough to make you melt<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo was never was much of a cuddler. When she was real small, she never let me cradle her unless she was eating, and me, lazy mom that I am, didn't mind because cradling your baby is pretty tough on the biceps and forceps. (Hence my still-very flabby arms.) Even now that she's bigger she always wants me to pick her up, but once there she's turning and twisting every which way, trying to see what's exciting out there. It's like I'm just a way for her to get off the ground, bed, whatever, so she can get a better view. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Imagine my delight when a few days ago she actually decided to lean her head down against my chest, cheek pressed against me, and stayed there! Well, she actually stayed there for two seconds, sat up again to look at me and give the most adorable grin, then leaned into me again.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I tell you, my heart just melted into a big puddle of goo. In the middle of the night when separation anxiety reared it's ugly obnoxious head again, I cuddled her against my chest and she fell asleep right away. Since then she's happy to snuggle with me before bed time, when she's done wreaking havoc around the living room.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I think most moms probably get this warm fuzzy feeling right away with their babies. I didn't breast feed so maybe that has something to do with the non-cuddling. At least I know she's not just after food next time she snuggles against me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-53631468454541116942009-03-23T00:35:00.000-07:002009-03-23T00:50:48.545-07:00Did you say "blow"????<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo has been babbling nonstop lately, peppered with a lot of ear-piercing screams out of nowhere. So darn cute. So I've tried to take advantage by labeling everything, seeing what she can pick up. She always stares at me and listens very intently while I teach her things like momma, dada, kitty, bear, lamb, book, drink, light, and on and on. I also label actions like eat, change diaper, up (as in pick up), and her favorite: blow.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">A couple of days ago I heard her repeat a new sound over and over and over. Different from her usual bababa, dadada, eheheh. "Bow . . . bow . . . bow". I thought, "oh that's cute, a new sound". Then it hit me as I was blowing a puff of air in her face to get her to smile. She was saying "blow"! Funny that of all the things I've been teaching her, she picks up that one.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Since then she's been saying "blow" to herself all day long. Sometimes she deviates and it sounds more like b-OW, instead of b-oh, but she gets it right once she hears me say it (minus the "l" sound). I try to get her to make the connection and use it when I actually blow in her face, but she only says it when she's playing by herself.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">So if she doesn't understand the meaning, does it count as her first word? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Today I think she repeated "bye-bye" after me, but who can be sure. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">How do parents decide what their child's first word is? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-85834308009830648382009-03-20T01:35:00.000-07:002009-03-20T01:41:27.496-07:00Polaroids<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I loved those things. I remember digging out my parent's old camera and buying some film for it in my late high school years. It was so expensive! There's something very special and fun about watching the picture come out, sound effects and all, then waiting forever for that poopy-brown picture to come to life. I found this cool app online that lets you make a pseudo version:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/ScNWK0ntLxI/AAAAAAAAAIg/7KTz6Gna1Uc/s1600-h/IMG_1299-pola.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315186729151180562" style="WIDTH: 329px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/ScNWK0ntLxI/AAAAAAAAAIg/7KTz6Gna1Uc/s400/IMG_1299-pola.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/ScNWDq1MWaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/KqnEgeQZzI4/s1600-h/mommy+and+tylo.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315186606264310178" style="WIDTH: 329px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/ScNWDq1MWaI/AAAAAAAAAIY/KqnEgeQZzI4/s400/mommy+and+tylo.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Yup, that's Tylo standing on her own, holding on to me for dear life. Don't worry honey, I won't let go. =)</div><div> </div><div>-<br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-7599898098917733652009-03-17T01:39:00.000-07:002009-03-17T01:49:08.781-07:00And while we're on the topic of food . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I love Girl Scout Cookies! Love love love them. I always get sad on the years that I miss out on the cookie season. Somehow the year passes and I think, I didn't get any Girl Scout cookies this year. That is, before I shopped at Whole Foods. Those Girl Scouts sure know what type of people have extra cookie money to spend. Though it seems a bit odd that people that eat Whole Foods food would indulge in Girl Scout cookies.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Samoas are my favorite but I don't discriminate. Shove a catalog in front of me, especially before lunch, and they all sound really good. That's how I got tricked year after year to buy over ten boxes from a coworker's daughter. I think the most I bought one year was 13 boxes. I swear I give some away! But mostly, they sit in my freezer waiting for the cravings to hit. Frozen Thin Mints deserve a freezer shelf all to themselves. But that job was years ago and the job after that had no workers with kids in the Scouts. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Anyway, over the weekend my husband ran into Whole Foods while I sat with sleeping Tylo in the car. I had just finished a huge frozen yogurt so when HP brings me back one box of Samoas, I said "Great", but I was so stuffed I didn't even open the box. Fast forward one day, and I'm like "Why the hell did you only get one box?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now that I see I only have four left in the box, I think I might have to run back to Whole Foods tomorrow to stock up on the cookies before the season is over. Better go make some room in my freezer.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-75323154910710850352009-03-13T02:34:00.000-07:002009-03-13T02:51:28.094-07:00Mmmmm . . . Meat<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">If you know my husband and I, you know we are meat lovers. I think early on in our dating, we knew we were perfect for one another because of our affinity for it. Heck, our first date was at Broadway Prime, and I proudly profess that I finished my entire largest cut, without any shame. He did beat me by requesting the complimentary second slice. He tells me later that he wanted so badly to pick up MY bone and gnaw on it, since it was his favorite part, but decided against it. After all, it was our first date. Since then we've shared numerous steakhouse meals together, and most of our pictures are of us with big glistening charred pieces of meat in front of us. I think most fine dining meals are a waste of money, but $50 for a porterhouse a la carte? Usually well worth it.<br /><br />Anyway, year after year I rack my brain trying to figure out what to get dear hubby for his birthday. I always think I am getting something HP will love, then he hides it away and forgets all about it, so I know I did a poor job with my selection (I was sure he would watch the Guns N Roses Greatest Hits DVD over and over). This year, I have a gift idea that I'm super excited about. Probably because I'll get to share in the gift too.<br /><br />Thanks to Carolyn at <a href="http://www.foodgal.com/">Foodgal</a> (great website for foodies - check it out), I have the perfect gift. A steak tasters pack. Like wine tasting, but with different varieties of the same cut of steak. Not at all cheap. We're talking over $100 for 4 steaks. That come frozen. Yes, I'm scared it will be a bust. I might be better off buying at Whole Foods (yum yum, see my earlier post) but it sure sounds like fun to cook a bunch of steaks at once and see if we can taste the difference. All I know is that when I'm cooking these babies you can bet I will not even glance the other way for fear of overcooking and turning a hundred bucks into sandwiches or something.<br /><br />If you are interested, and you love meat as much as we do, check out the company here: </span><a href="http://www.oliverranch.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">www.oliverranch.com</span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">. But you might want to wait until I post comments after we try them. HP's bday is next month, so stay tuned. (It would be just my luck if he starts reading my blog now and the bday surprise is ruined!)</span><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">By the way, HP has just been diagnosed with "fatty liver". Yeah, as in foie gras. He started having recurring tummy aches and has been told to cut out the saturated fats and wine. So I guess now he will actually have the cut the pieces of fat from his steak. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span></p>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-59025473659560096972009-03-13T01:11:00.001-07:002009-03-13T01:23:36.651-07:00Geez - Where have I been?<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Out and about! The weather has been great and we've been all over town. Well, within 15 miles of home, but everywhere that is baby friendly within those 15 miles.<br /><br />And, thanks to the time change, Tylo has been sleeping late again, so no time for blogging. The little bugger is moving around all over the place, so I can no longer leave her for twenty minutes at a time sitting happily with her toys. She goes from crawl position to sit and vice versa easily now. But she still can't really crawl. I think she can, I've seen her do it. She's a freakin lazy baby I tell ya. But she can get away with it because she's so darn cute these days. What? You just killed the cat? Mommy forgives you because you looked so cute doing it!<br /><br />The great thing is that she's learned some new tricks. She knows how to "Kiss kiss Bear" or "Nose kiss Mommy", and will unhappily hand off whatever is in her hand when I say "Give it to Mommy". She knows "Up" means she can lift her hands in the air and I will pick her up. But she only does these tricks when she wants to, and of course never in front of other people, so I'm pretty much a liar. When other people are around she sits quietly and stares. Sometimes cries from fear, and clings to me for dear life.<br /><br />I'm trying so hard to get her to walk and hopefully when the weather gets good and warm we can take our first trip to the zoo. She loves Kitty so much I know she'll love the animals at the petting zoo. I just haven't decided if I'll let her touch them yet. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SboX4nBm3YI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/2Vy5t4ymGXg/s1600-h/IMG_1305.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312584971752758658" style="WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SboX4nBm3YI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/2Vy5t4ymGXg/s400/IMG_1305.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />-<br /></div></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-58293957355729427922009-03-04T00:48:00.000-08:002009-03-04T23:19:39.942-08:00That deserves a round of applause . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Seems like it's been raining forever. I've been cooped up inside the house for the last two days because it has been storming, sideways rain, lightning, thunder and all. </span><div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo hasn't minded that much, but I'm sure by tomorrow (another stormy day) she will start getting cranky. When we're home this much, it takes all my energy to entertain her. My brain is pretty fried, and I think my voice is stuck in this high-pitched sing song tone from doing it so much. Luckily we have a CPR class scheduled, rain or shine.</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The really great thing these days about taking Tylo out is that I get to pack really light. She no longer spits up, so no change of clothes needed, no burp cloths. She's too big for the bjorn, and I don't use a carrier. Her eating is very predictable, and she still drools like a leaky faucet, so I got one or two bottles and a bunch of bibs in my shoulder bag and I'm set. All my diaper changing stuff, blankets, strollers, etc. are in my car. It's been SOOO easy that I love taking her out. Except that there's really no where to go. Especially when we're trying not to spend money. You can usually find me at a Starbucks. We go to many different ones for a change of scenery.</span></div><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So I've been trying to use my time wisely, and have her practice crawling, standing, signing, waving. All my hard work finally paid off when she started clapping. And once she started, it was like she couldn't stop those little hands from coming together:</span></div><div></div><div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dBf4eF0Kkg&feature=channel_page">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dBf4eF0Kkg&feature=channel_page</a></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.</span></div><div>Time to eat? Clap, clap, clap. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">.</span></div><div>It's bathtime? Clap, clap, clap.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">.</span></div><div>Daddy's home! Clap, clap, clap.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">.</span></div><div>Oh look, there's Kitty! Clap, clap, clap.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.</span></div><div>And we also found some long lost pictures from our my phone that I thought I'd post. Her age was still being counted in weeks at that point:.</span></div><div></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sa956L9kBzI/AAAAAAAAAII/cyFEDnpDy00/s1600-h/fell+asleep+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309596526243481394" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sa956L9kBzI/AAAAAAAAAII/cyFEDnpDy00/s400/fell+asleep+2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div></div><div>.</span></div><div>Newborns always get food coma. Here she is, asleep, AGAIN, after a bottle.</div><div></div><div></div><div><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sa950YGLMcI/AAAAAAAAAIA/72X2cM0TU-E/s1600-h/fell+asleep.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309596426421612994" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/Sa950YGLMcI/AAAAAAAAAIA/72X2cM0TU-E/s400/fell+asleep.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here she is, too exhausted for tummy time. (She has never fallen asleep in action since.)</div><div></div><div>.</span></div><div>At the risk of sounding cliche, they sure do grow up fast . . . </div><div></div><div></div><div>-</div></div>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-56232219783249585042009-02-28T01:15:00.000-08:002009-02-28T01:29:52.853-08:00It was like a car commercial . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo and I had a great but super long day at the mall (that's what SAHMs do on cold days, we go to the mall - I swear there were so many of us there today). HP met up with us after work, we had a Burger King dinner while she napped in the car, did a little shopping, then went home. I decided to let him drive our new car home with Tylo inside since he never gets to drive it and I took his car (which is actually the car that I bought, but seriously, who keeps track when you're married?).</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Anyhoo, as I saw my speedometer go up to 80, as I accelerated and zipped through different lanes, around the slow-ass big rigs, I realized how long it's been since I've driven without Tylo in the car. It felt so good to drive like a normal person. I wasn't staying 1/2 a mile back from the car in front of me, stepping on the brakes as soon as anyone within sight showed brake lights, signaling for 30 seconds before making a move to the next lane. Heck, I even turned the music on, because I wasn't singing "How will I know" (from Disney's Enchanted) at the top of my lungs because these days it's the only thing that will keep my baby from getting cranky.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I miss driving alone, with no traffic. I used to make these long drives from OC to San Francisco when I lived down there with nothing but every Mariah Carey CD I owned and a can of whipped cream to keep me occupied (alright, there were also a lot of cigarettes and enough snacks to fill a concession stand at the movies). The cruise control did most of the work and I was able to let my mind wander because it is the straightest road you'll ever drive. It was pure meditation for me. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Don't take it for granted. Enjoy your car, and your peaceful drives. By the way, when we got home HP reported that Tylo cried the whole way home. She was still crying when he parked. Gee, I'm sorry I missed that.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-51951184134469332062009-02-25T01:51:00.000-08:002009-02-25T01:59:35.631-08:00Doomed to hold hands all night long<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today I was watching an episode of Supernanny (yeah yeah, you'll watch it too when you become a parent, just you wait and see) and I saw myself, in 3 years. This couple coddles their two kids, let them have their way all the time, get no sleep. Bedtime is a nightmare, and their 3 year old doesn't fall asleep unless Dad is there on the floor next to him, holding his hand until he falls asleep. Sometimes it's 10 minutes, sometimes it's a few hours.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">THAT IS SO ME.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Tylo always reaches out for me and squeezes my fingers, strokes my hand or arm while falling sleep. I know she's dead tired, her eyes are shut, but her little hands just want to keep squeezing, squeezing. I am arched over her crib, back is killing me, both hands available for her to do her squeezing. If I'm lucky it's 5 minutes. But sometimes it's 30 minutes. Sometimes I have to cough or my nose is running or my hair is in my face and I move my hands and she wakes up and we start all over again. How did we get to this????</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I ask HP and he says his hands never get squeezed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I can just imagine in a few years I'll be the one laying on the floor at 2 in the morning, holding hands with my daughter until she finally falls sleep. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My little Tylo is queen bee. And I am a complete pushover of a mom.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">- </span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-59873969471347948062009-02-19T19:56:00.001-08:002009-02-19T20:06:46.853-08:00Too cute!<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SZ4qKgmWfsI/AAAAAAAAAHw/sRjM0IWi05I/s1600-h/bathtime.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304723771126873794" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_-pxxOc7ycAU/SZ4qKgmWfsI/AAAAAAAAAHw/sRjM0IWi05I/s400/bathtime.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mommy, stop telling me how cute I look and put some clothes on me already. It's cold in here!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-62757585341253012722009-02-16T21:13:00.000-08:002009-02-16T21:14:27.207-08:00There really ought to be a manual for situations like this.<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Today, with naked baby in tow, I was on my way from the changing table to the bath tub. Don't ask me why, but the two places are in opposite ends of our condo. I stopped off in the kitchen to stick my chicken in the oven when I start hearing what sounds like rain drops on the kitchen floor. Oh Tylo - you've been spitting up all day. I look at her mouth, and it's dry. Heavier rain drops.<br /><br />I realize she's peeing. All over me, all over the kitchen floor. I had to wait until she was done, but what do I do after that? I decided to make the rest of the way to the bathroom trying my best not drip more pee all over the place. I dunk her in the bathtub and try to figure out what I'm supposed to do, drenched in pee. I can't go clean myself off and leave her in the bathtub unsupervised. So I take off all my clothes, because every piece is dripping in pee at this point, wipe my skin off as best I can and proceed to bathe my daughter almost completely naked. <br /><br />At least I wasn't standing on carpet.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-</span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-24187317344556182722009-02-16T15:03:00.001-08:002009-02-16T15:15:12.895-08:00If you'd only just pick up your dirty socks . . .<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Do you think there are any perfect couples out there? The ones that are truly in love, complement one another in their ways, that don't ever fight?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not to make anyone vomit or anything, but I think HP and I are pretty darn close. We say it all the time too. We're so lucky because we're so happy and totally in love and don't fight and don't get sick or bored of one another. When we went on our first long vacation with each other, I think we amazed ourselves by enjoying every moment of the 24 hours a day we spent together. It was probably so great because the stress and cleaning at home wasn't there.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Not sure how true that is, because we do fight. It's always over something lame, like cleaning (his lack of it, and my bossiness about insisting that he do it), or me being a bad listener, (apparently I'm the person that 'waits to talk', not listen) but it feels bad nonetheless. With the responsibility that is Tylo, it feels like the fighting is happening more often. We always make up, but it's always the same thing. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I have come to realize that people don't really change. You make up at the end of each fight and apologize, but then the same problems happen again. The issues that were there from the first time you moved in together are still there 5 years later, and will remain there 10 and 20 and 30 years later. Does there come a time where you will no longer care and those things that bother you will stop bothering you?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I certainly hope so. But I bet all long-term couples go through the same gripes. Luckily, you have the other 99.9% of your relationship that is all hunky-dory to think of. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">-</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4572670717183701069.post-30275288927539165792009-02-09T09:45:00.000-08:002009-02-09T10:01:59.662-08:00How did we go so wrong?<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I think I am quite possibly the worst mother on earth. Alright, I'm exagerating, but not when it comes to getting my baby to go to bed at night. Maybe I'm just too fun of a mom, because Tylo refuses to go to bed at night. She only wants to play play play. She's not hungry, wet, is no longer sick. But refuses to go to bed at night. Even HP is snoring away before Tylo is ready, usually at 12:30 am.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I can't blame it on her bad cold, because it was pretty much like this before. Except she wouldn't be such a cry baby about it. She would be content playing by herself in the crib until she exhausts herself. Now she starts wailing if I even dim the lights and go near the bedroom area. And she must play with me or HP.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">We tried to let her cry it out, but decided over and over again that we're wimpy parents and cannot subject our daughter to such misery. I definitely have no excuse. I don't work, so why shouldn't I conform to her schedule, rather than the other way around? Still, I wish it was like the old days when she would sleep at 6 pm, wake up once at 9 am to eat, then go right back to bed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">At this point, Tylo's sleep schedule is like this:</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">12:30 am - 7:30 am (or so), night sleep with 3-5 awakenings but is quickly soothed</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">9:00 am - 10:00 am 1 hr nap</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">1:00 pm 1 hr nap</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">4:00 pm 1 hr nap</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">8:00 pm 1 hr nap</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">I'm not sure if 11 hrs is enough for a little girl but all would be so great if she only went to bed at 10 pm. Then I could actually have time to shower, get ready for bed, etc. without staying up until 3 in the morning. Sigh.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">On another note, I just realized that I spend most of my day walking around with my eyebrows lowered into a frown and it's giving me a major forehead wrinkle. I'd better learn to relax them more. I bet most people do that too, without even realizing it. We'd better do all we can to stop those pre-mature wrinkles!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>Tylo's Momhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13832985296055514866noreply@blogger.com0