Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Limited Vocabulary

Sabine's most favorite words/responses these days:
no, mama
no, dada
no way!
uh, uh
go away, mama
shoot! (which sounds a lot like "shit")
aw, man
no, me!
no share

For Thanksgiving, we went to my dad's house in Palm Springs. When it was time to sit at the table, Sabine said, "no way," to her plate of food and then kicked, hollered and wiggled until I finally let her loose. About an hour later, I found her standing barefoot in the kitchen gnawing on a turkey leg that was practically as big as her head.

She's two years and three months--and horribly disagreeable and uncivilized. I'd lose my mind or pull my hair out if she weren't so stinkin' funny.

via The Pursuit Aesthetic

Pink Polk-A-Dots

I'm in love.

Now if only it weren't eighty five degrees in Los Angeles.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Lazy Day

Don't most people take today, the day after Thanksgiving, off? Well, then I think I should, too. 

PS I will be going nowhere near any mall. But I will be eating a sandwich with leftover turkey on white bread. Yum.

via Observando.net

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Here's What...

 ...I'm thankful for...

Sabine (and that Sabine has been sleeping until 7:30-8:00 a.m.).


That one of us is employed and that we have a roof over our heads.

The growing bebe in my belly.

The many, many trees here in Pasadena and how their fallen leaves turn the sidewalks a brilliant gold.

My sisters and my pops.

My health.

That I'm able to stay home with little Sabine each day.


Memories of my mom.

Being able to write.


Sparkly Christmas trees.


Cafe mornings with Sabine.

Conversations with Kadin.

Stories and books.

The ocean.

My time in New York City.

French berry sparkling lemonade.

Blow Pops.

That Kadin likes to cook and doesn't care that I don't.

Airplanes, trains and cars that can take me places.


Leggings and the color black.

Hydrangeas, peonies, lavender and rosemary.

That the first trimester is over.

Champagne and Hefeweizen.


Happy Thanksgiving. Gobble, gobble.

via Observando

Turkey Day Tablescapes

A simple something for the appetizers...

via The Pursuit Aesthetic

Something more grand for dinner...

via Apartment Therapy

And something deliciously whimsical for dessert...

via Observando

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

The Runaway and Time Fighters

I took Sabine with me to Forever 21 last week. An embarrassing admission: Me, a thirty nine year old shopping at a store called Forever 21. I have no interest in being forever twenty one years old or trying to look like I am. I see those women sometimes. They usually wear too much drugstore makeup, bad dye jobs and too-tight cheap clothing from a past decade they can't let go of (or ill-fitting current styles of a still-trying-to-fit-in nature). When I was around twenty five years old, I remember talking to a guy in a bar who called these women "time fighters." Are you there, God? It's me, Laura--puh-leeze do not ever let me turn into a time fighter.

BUT...Forever 21 now has a maternity line. Yep, that's right. Their jeans are perfect--and only around $20. I am not paying more than that for pregnancy jeans I will never wear again. And they have the softest racer-back tanks that are the perfect length, too. So perfect that I can't stop wearing them.

Anyway, I embarrassing made my way through racks upon racks of trendy clothing as the worst pop music I'd never heard blared at a decibel that threatened hearing loss and a constant ringing in my head and ears. As I trudged along, Sabine begged to be let out of her stroller. I gave in and let her loose--which turned out to be one of my greatest mistakes. That store is huge. I mean, gargantuan. And the minute I let her out, she took off and began hiding in clothing racks. I kept yelling her name but there's no way she could hear me above that makes-you-want-to shove-a-pencil-through-your-ear-socket music. I ran around the store, yelling as loud as I could and looking behind every mannequin, pillar and rack.

About twenty minutes later, just before I had a heart attack, I screamed my loudest and finally heard her respond from somewhere above me. I looked up and she was at the top of a steep marble staircase, on the second floor. She had a lavender tutu around her chest (she thought it was a dress), a brown faux-leather hobo bag around her neck, a pair of leopard-print neon pink underwear in one hand and a tube of lip gloss in the other. When I reached the top of the stairs I wanted to yell at her for not staying by my side. She could've been kidnapped or badly injured from tripping over her mismatched drag queen garb as she made her way up or down that death trap of a staircase. But all I could do was laugh hysterically and squeeze her. Because she had this smirk on her face and she kept patting her tutu as she looked up at me. She was so impressed with her findings and herself for putting them on. And it was clear that she thought I should be impressed, too.

So I went on and on about how great her outfit was as her smile grew bigger and more proud. I carried her down the stairs and strapped her into her stroller, drag queen gear and all and told her that next time she needs to stay close to mama. After all, how I can expect a two-year old not to get lost in endless rows of shiny, fluffy Skittle--colored fabric?

I guess that's exactly what happens to the time fighters in stores like these. And ultimately, if they feel as happy as Sabine looked after her shopping excursion, then there's something really beautiful about that--no matter how bright their makeup or tight their clothing.

via Observando

Sweet Tooth

We're supposed to bring dessert to our family's Thanksgiving celebration. I'd love to whip up one of these four things. But honestly, I very much see myself purchasing a pecan pie at the last minute instead.

Pumpkin Creme Brulee--clickety click on over to iVillage for the recipe.

via Pinterest

Cranberry Squares--go to Fork Spoon Knife for the recipe.

via Pinterest

Salted Caramel Cheesecake--visit Joy the Baker for the recipe.

via Pinterest

Coconut Chocolate Pie--click over to Sweet Twist of Blogging for the recipe.

via Pinterest

Friday, November 18, 2011

Feeling It at the Zoo

I took Sabine to the zoo yesterday. It wasn't a planned visit. We were supposed to go to yoga class and decided to change it up at the last minute. It was the best spontaneous $30 I've spent in a long time.

Kadin and I had taken her twice before, when she stared at the handrails and the pavement instead of the animals. She was more interested in pictures of animals in books.

But this time she was beside herself with excitement. It was as if she couldn't believe that those animals in her books were anything more than drawings and pictures. She fell in love with the giraffes and stood in front of the gorillas' compound for the longest time. She was simultaneously fascinated and freaked out by the flamingos and the crocodile. But she definitely loved riding around and around on the carousel's painted, plastic animals more than anything else.

The last time I was at the zoo, it was suffocatingly hot. L.A.'s brownish grey skies gave it this creepy, sad coating that made you feel sorry for the animals and for yourself as you trudged up the hills. The trees weren't all that green and the animals looked hungry, bored and lonely. There was only one lion in the lion area and she didn't move. The giraffes were all gathered around a single branch of leaves--the other branches were bare.

But somehow none of this mattered yesterday. The weather was cool and crisp and the trees were lush--some green and some golden in color. And for the first time in three months, I could actually feel something. My heart contracted a little as I watched Sabine ride around on the carousel's plastic zebra. The carousel was perched on a hill, in one of the more elevated portions of the zoo, so it looked like she was flying as Journey played in the background and made me think about how simple and quiet life used to be and how beautifully loaded it is now. And finally, the future seemed brighter than it has in a long time.

via Observando

Merry Merry-Go-Round

Sabine goes to the zoo: She would've ridden the real giraffes if she could've.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Cruise Control

Have you ever been on a cruise? Aren't they the worst?

I went on one to Alaska with my dad and my sisters not long after my mom died. I remember feeling like a hamster trapped in a cage. I was only let out for a few hours a day in some touristy city. Otherwise, it was rubbery chicken, machine-made strawberry margaritas, Taco Bell-style nachos, bad decor (lots of purple and gold), casino lighting and nowhere to go except the other end of the ship. I mean, the thing would dock each day, but always in a city or town that was chosen for you. And how much can you really explore a city in which you have limited transportation and time? I'd always end up returning to the ship way before they asked us to because I had this neurotic, debilitating fear that I'd be left behind, stranded alone in Sarah Palin land.)

The upside of the giant boat/cage was spending time with my family. And seeing and being exceptionally close to icebergs for the first time. They looked like these enormous, looming textured sculptures--almost like icing--that were bright turquoise in color. I couldn't decide if I wanted to climb them or lick them. You could watch them slowly break apart. Their pieces would float in different directions in the wide-open sea, where nothing else was visible except for the horizon line. It was as if someone had spilled a giant blue raspberry Slurpee into the never-ending ocean.

I've been thinking about that cruise, the good and the bad, because Kadin and I have been fantasizing about taking a trip somewhere. But, of course, it's not so easy with tiny monster, who hates airplanes, demands a bigger hotel room and, in general, makes things much more expensive. I saw some advertisement for a Mexico cruise and considered it for half a second before I realized that it would mean confetti-patterned carpet, more watered-down margaritas (that I can't even drink) and a constant frat party a la Papas & Beer/Rosarito Beach circa the early nineties.

I wouldn't go if it were free.

So I've downsized my travel dreams for now. I'm thinking maybe a quick trip to California's central coast or even Lake Arrowhead so Sabine can see snow for the first time.

But no cruise. Not ever again. Not even when I'm eighty.


New Boots

Sabine got a new pair of boots. So ridiculously cute I can't take it. Minnetonka Moccasin, $35.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Tightrope Walking

I'm back. I think.

I had to disappear/take a break shortly because I've been so incredibly nauseous  and hormonal all day every day that I could not pull it together to think or do little more than take care of tiny Sabine.

I've also felt fresh out of things to say. I'm not sure if it's because I've said so much already or because the nausea has seeped into my brain and taken it over completely. And if you've ever had that happen--feeling dizzy, dry heaving and like you're going to hurl from the minute you wake up to the minute you go to sleep so that you can't even think straight, see or feel much else--then you know it can leave you in somewhat of a dark place.

And that dark place has become a guilty place, too. Because the last thing I want to feel is depressed when I have this wonder of a miniature human being named Sabine, who has so much love to give and blows my mind on a daily basis. Or when I have a husband who is so patient and understanding that he doesn't at all mind when I a)fall asleep at 9 p.m. every night; b)prepare practically inedible meals because the smell of most food items leaves me bent over the sink or the toilet bowl; and c)have been the pilot who has steered our sex life into the nose dive position.

(*side note: I am not and never have been as house wife-y as the above paragraph makes me sound. I cook four days a week and Kadin cooks three. Or we order takeout. And I do not not believe that I should regularly give it up to my husband as some sort of marital responsibility...but sex is fun when you don't feel like you're going to vomit. And Kadin is five years younger than I am--and not nauseous.)

And, of course, I also feel guilty about the fact that I'm at a point where I cannot enjoy the fact that I'm growing a little life inside my belly.

Why does it seem that when you're depressed or sick, everyone else is walking around the world with perfect sanity, health, happiness and togetherness? It's like I've only been able to see beautifully fashionable women or unburdened moms pushing smiling babies beneath golden trees and the bluest fall skies that I haven't been able to soak up.

I read recently in some trashy celebrity magazine that Jessica Simpson said something about how she loves being pregnant and could be pregnant forever. Kadin says she feels this way because now has an excuse to eat whatever she wants.

I wish I loved pregnancy in the way some women do. Conceptually, I think it's extraordinary that cells grow rapidly in your body and bloom into tiny people who you love so much you'd die for them. But in my own practical experience, the first three months of pregnancy are a vomit-filled hell. And during months seven and a half through nine, I'm crippled by constant heartburn and the inability to sleep or bend over.

The good news is that as of Monday, I'm officially finished with my tightrope walking experience  known as the first trimester. I've felt much less queasy and crazy in the past few days. I hope that I will soon be swooning and starry-eyed and brimming with pregnancy glow. I'm ready for a sunny second trimester. So are Kadin and Sabine. Cross your fingers.

via Observando

Good Grief Glasses

Not that I can actually use these...but they are wildly appropriate in terms of my temperament these past three months. Set of two, $28. Set Editions.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Dia de los Muertos

Sabine and I will be decorating sugar skulls today in honor of Dia de los Muertos. And I'm hoping that tomorrow we'll be able to take them to my mom's gravesite, where I'll watch Sabine run around and collect dandelions.

via tumblr

Can You See?

via Observando


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