Beautiful Things: The Auntie Meg Edition.

I have been unable to sit and crank out any coherent posts this past week. My little sister Megan and her roommate are here visiting for their senior year spring break. They arrived on a red eye Thursday and it has been silly, college, family, eating, love ever since. I am sure that as this week progresses, I'll have time to update the blog with all of the fun that is being had.

In the meantime, enjoy this image from Noah and Meggie's lounge session yesterday afternoon after Noah Finn woke from an unusually long nap. So, so cute.

All In A Good Day's Play: The Flora, Fauna and Us, At The Huntington Edition.

Those not lucky enough to live in visiting proximity of The Huntington Library, Art Collections & Botanical Gardens simply do not know what they are missing. And even that is an understatement of great proportions as The Huntington is a kind of heavenly utopia nestled in the quaintly sublime suburb of Pasadena, San Marino.

I had visited once before--to see a stunning and rare visiting installation of English poet, painter and print maker, William Blake, back when I was a fledgling grad student. The experience then was pleasant. I was moved most by the incredibly detailed and individualized copper plates that Blake used to relief etch his poetry onto rather than by the sheer enormity and astute aesthetic plenitude of the gardens themselves.

I visited again yesterday--the first Tuesday of the month is free--with Noah Finn, Asami and Kai. Instead of a notebook, I was loaded down with a stroller, snacks, diapers, sippy cup and a few days supply of "what ifs" stuff. We didn't make it far in the first hour or so--strolling only a few feet each time before someone had to go to the bathroom, take a snack or stroller break, or "investigate" a puddle and it's contents that we had just passed. Well into the second hour, once we finally began making headway, we wandered through and by gardens of splendor and plenty--gardens that had used up every last drop of recent rain to color themselves bolder than ever. We found ourselves veiled by a colorful symphony of wildlife--bumblebees, butterflies, geese and chirping birds--clover flowers, green green grass, dew-covered petals and scampering squirrels.

The children's garden by far was the highlight of the day. Water pools, rock gardens, animal-shaped bushes, rainbow tunnels, misting tee-pees, mini vine-covered arbors, tiny foliage cottages--it was a place for hobbits and fairies.

It's funny how you experience things so differently when you are towing tots. Things you never paused to even note before become central attractions and things that once took priority before are quickly forgotten. At the end of it all, as Noah and Kai snoozed in their strollers while we walked from the exit to our car, I took note of how much I enjoyed visiting The Huntington this time. It was so different from the first. And despite the lack of art present by what some might hail as the "greatest artist Britain has ever produced", I had all I needed right there with me--my dear sweet friends and my beautiful boy, Noah Finn.

For more pictures of our day at The Huntington, visit us on flickr.

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.

Milestones Are Expensive.

More baby gear. It never ends, I fear. Each milestone has a price tag and this month several of them have come all at once: first "big boy" shoes, next step in carseats, next and last size in cloth diapers, a shiny new ergonomic red potty chair, and some other fun "kind of needs" that I sneakily threw in to get free shipping (a whale faucet cover and bath toy storage).

It's funny how having children creates a never-ending need for stuff. And we try not to overdo stuff--we try to minimalize, we try not to pork out with overconsumption, we try to recycle, reduce and reuse. I love craig's list. But you never can be sure that a carseat hasn't been in a wreck, and a used potty, well, we won't even go there.

So, today was necessary--the stuff buying, it was needed . . . and it was a day that I got to gear up again with many firsts (shoes, potty) and lasts (cloth diapers) for my very quickly growing little dude.

Sundays Are For Warriors.

grey morning.
chilly air.
dusty earth.
quiet canyon.
baby.
mama.
daddy.
big mountain.
sunday warriors.

A Little Bit of Yoga, A Little Bit of Wine . . .

. . . makes for one really happy baby of mine.

Noah Finn's First Shoes.

I never thought that shoe shopping for someone else could be so much fun--that is, until I began my search for Noey's first pair. Dean and I took Noah to Wee Soles--an incredibly cute kid's shoe store in Silverlake to get him correctly sized a few weeks ago in preparation for the big purchase.

It had been such an act of restraint for me to not buy a pair sooner--an official "big boy" pair. We knew that it was best to allow him to walk barefooted or socked (or if unpreventable, in soft-soled shoes, like these Robeez we had and loved) as much as possible when learning and even in the first few months of walking.

But the day finally came this week when we felt Noah Finn was ready for some real deal foot bling and after an exhaustive search for just the right pair (and only after a suggestion from my dear mama comrade, Asami) did I find Noah's glass slipper--the "Ocean" sandal by See Kai Run.

They arrived in the mail yesterday after just a day of waiting and Dean and I decided to take him out for a late afternoon trial run in the park. The thing was, not much running or walking, for that matter, occurred. Noah much preferred to sit in the grass and on Daddy's lap for story time instead.

Oh well, they still looked achingly cute nestled among the grass blades . . . motionless. And, if I really look at the bright side, I could also say that it made them awfully easy to photograph.

Beautiful Things.

After having a baby, it's easier than ever to find beauty in the simplest things around you. Everything seems burgeoning with life, color, vibrancy, sparkle. You take note of, acknowledge, and appreciate those beautiful little things that life has placed near you.

Lately, Noah crawls into our laps with a book for us to read to him. He wobbles to his green bookshelf, waddles over to Dean or I, crouches low, shimmies into our waiting lap, hands us the chosen book, and waits for the story to begin.

Our hearts melt as we see him intentfully approaching with a smile and I know that both of us are silently chanting, "pick my lap, pick my lap".

It's such a sweet, sweet, beautiful thing.

First Beach Steps.

In Malibu on Valentine's Day.

Love, By Hand--Crocheted Valentines.

Okay, so these are no gleaming copies of the beauties over at the purl bee--those cute little inspirations that I spoke about just the other day--but for my first crocheting attempt ever, I'd say they are a.o.k. Crocheting is much, much harder than it looks. Who ever thought that pulling a loop of yarn through another teeny tiny loop with a long hooked needle was a good idea? Probably the same man who thought pantyhose, bras, and thongs were a good idea too. Not to throw the tradition of crocheting in with lingerie, but it's h a r d and just about as tiring as a persistent wedgie.

But, I'm excited to have a new notch on my crafting belt . . . and my Valentines here at the homestead got one of these hard-won beauties and (the other I made on Weds.) on that dreamy day of love at the end of all of the toil.

I hope you and yours enjoyed a love day as lovely as I.

xoxo