History In The Making: The Crappy Cellphone Picture Edition.

We've been busy lately, but in the best way. Daddy has been filling his mornings before work with satisfying solo projects and Noah Finn and I have filled our days cavorting around town with our best mommy and baby pals.

This past Sunday, after a family morning in the park outing with one of my mommy groups, we went to brunch with Asami, Kai and Atushi. Despite the posh Larchmont Village neighborhood and the attention to aesthetic detail of the space we found ourselves dining in, the food was barely mediocre and my slice of "freshly baked" tart cherry pie . . . well, I won't bore you with my cantankerous criticism. But, still, the afternoon was serene . . . frolicking in and out of shoe shops, our favorite organic kid's store owned by Punky Brewster, and past a sidewalk dog adoption event. After pouting for some time, Dean finally caved and approved the addition of a dog to our ever growing family. So, I am excited to report that we'll be combing local shelters in the coming weeks and months in search of the perfect mutt for us to rescue from certain death and love forever and ever.

Okay, but, back to Sunday . . . after our Larchmont afternoon, we ventured to Trader Joe's to battle the parking lot crowds for a highly prized patch of Trader Joe's asphalt in an effort to wrangle up an easy dinner. As Dean walked around the car to retrieve our little toddler who had been unusually quiet during the short car trip, I sat sulking in the passenger seat (Dean had not yet relented and caved in on the dog issue at this point).

And. Then. Dean shrilly shrieked. And, then he loudly panted . . . "oh. my. god." several times.

It appeared as if Noah Finn had decided that costumes were required attire for Trader Joe Sunday's and he was intent on coming prepared--he was painted head to toe in a lovely shade of "fig". It was everywhere and by everywhere, I mean everywhere.

You see, Noah and I had driven the hour drive up to Canyon Country just the day before to attend a going away party for very dear friends of ours. In a desperate effort to silence the backseat crooner during the drive, I handed him my small make up bag that I carry in the diaper bag. I don't wear much make up--just chapstick and a little under-eye concealer to hide my black bags of sleep deprivation--so it mostly contains holistic first aid supplies for Noah and a few OB tampons that Noah loves to chew on--wrapped, of course. Noah loves this little pouch of tiny treasures and I always revert to it when in any sticky screaming situation. But, apparently there was one rogue tube of lipstick remaining from past days of yore when my lips were more decorated that Noah not only found but stashed in his carseat for "later", as it appears.

The funny thing is that Dean and I laughed--we laughed until we were crying and until, well, we made Noah cry. He is crying in the pictures above because he was left in the carseat so long as we laughed chuckled and wiped away our tears of sheer hilarity. The best part of it all was that it broke the tension--the terse dog conversation dissipated into a fit of family laughter and I think that it can be attributed with lightening things to the point of Dean finally giving in upon his return to the car from the store.

You see, the weekend was a great two days of parenting woes and follies that ultimately resulted in the addition of a new family member--soon. The only damper was that our camera was no where in sight. Unfortunately, I had to snap pictures of Noah's face painting antics, as well as, his first trip to the Los Angeles Natural History Museum with my camera phone--phooey on poor photography to mark major moments. At least it was all documented. It's Noah Finn history in the making.