New Blog Address

Hey, all! We've moved the blog over to Wordpress! The new blog address is;

http://abravenewgarden.wordpress.com/

Please join us over there!

We will not be updating this space any longer. Blogger has been very cranky, and I've enjoyed using Wordpress so far. All of our archived posts and pictures from this space transferred to the new Wordpress space, so essentially this is just a nice change of venue!

Love,
Rhianna, Nick & Arlo

Lest Ye Have Any Doubt...

I submit the following pieces of evidence that Arlo does bear some resemblance to his mama, contrary to the abundant assertions that he is Mini Nick.

Christmas 1979
(Thanks for the picture, Mom!)

The back of this picture notes that I am 2 years old here.

And, further, let this quiet any question as to where Arlo got his moppy tresses.

All-Nighter

When we drove to Virginia several weeks ago to meet Arlo's new cuz, Atticus, and to shore up plans for our old abode there, we drove straight through the night while Arlo was sacked out in his carseat. Arlo would stir whenever we stopped for gas or for a bathroom break, and I would nurse him in the backseat or change his dipe, and then deposit his drowsy rump back into his warm lil' throne of safety. He would be soundly snoozing again by the time our car was at full speed on the highway. It all worked out kind of perfectly, you know, save for the whole missing an entire night's worth of precious sleep. (Sleep is still very precious 'round these parts, as no, my half-pint heir still does not sleep through the night.)

I think the last all-nighter that Nick and I pulled together was the night Arlo was born. Unlike the all-nighter during which Arlo's stubbornly posterior body made its debut after two grueling, med-free, back-grinding hours of pushing, this more recent all-nighter was filled with  laughs and fueled by coffee and the occasional gas station donut. Mmm.

We were in the mountains of West Virginia when the sun rose, and it was as if Mother Nature had rolled out the red carpet for us, ushering us so poshly back into the east coast. Gauzy clouds were draped across the mountains like a well-worn blanket over an old woman's shoulders. It was beautiful. Homey.

A short while later, Arlo woke and demanded to be unleashed from the cow-printed confines of his carseat. We made an unplanned, but perfectly timed stop in Charlottesville, a favorite destination of many of our past day trips, where we ate pancakes and drank more coffee and watched a very well-rested Arlo buzz all over the pedestrian mall. This picture was taken shortly after breakfast that morning.

The morning felt kind of perfect, sleep deprivation and all, much like that other all-nighter when we finally held our long-awaited son in our arms.  

See Ya Later, Woodford

Our home on Woodford Street is now filled only with echoes. We made a trip back to Virginia a couple of weeks ago to button the house up and explore the possibility of selling it. The real estate market, we learned, is still wedged tightly in the crapper, and now we're flushing out the details of becoming landlords and renting our home out.

I was surprised that I didn't really feel any surge of sentimentality as we ushered the last evidence of ourselves out of our old house. It was our home for ten years, but it no longer feels like home to me.  I did feel momentarily wistful when Arlo scooped up a plastic spoon (a holdover of last season's plant markers) and started digging in one of the raised beds, which was filled with pert, healthy strawberry plants. This would have been a summer where Arlo might have better understood the garden, might have really loved picking fruits and vegetables from their earthy vines as much as his mama. It may still happen, but it won't happen in that backyard. 

The strawberry plants there were green and full and dotted with blooms. They seemed to be doing just fine without any sort of assistance from me whatsoever, and that brought me a certain sense of security, of resolve. Life goes on, you know? There will be new life in that garden. There will be new life in that house. It's all good.

We just signed a new lease on a flat in St. Louis. We've never actually lived in "the city" before. Yes, Fredericksburg was technically a city, but it was really more of a small town, where you know the first name of the barista at your fave coffee joint; where you're always bumping into a co-worker or former co-worker, or a co-worker's kid; where the waitresses in your fave restaurants unknowingly tuck a surprise dessert into your take-out bag. Our new place is decidedly in the most urban setting we've ever lived. I'm excited.

And maybe that's why leaving Woodford doesn't feel especially sad. We're too excited about what comes next. It's difficult to feel downhearted about the past when the future looks so fun.

Two Falls ago when I was pregnant we planted a dogwood tree for the baby. And now, I will exercise a small amount of nostalgia here...





25 weeks, 4 days pregnant. September 2010

4 months old, April 2011.

15 months old. April 2012.

Easter 2012

Easter Eve, after a long day of house hunting in St. Louis, we're getting our egg dyin' on!
Arlo dispenses with all egg-wrangling implements and dives right in, bare-handed.

Look at that concentration! Balancing his Tiffany blue egg, complete with tres artistique scribbles!

Our dyed eggs? Pretty speggtacular, we know.

Early the Next Morning....

We hunt eggs in our pajamas!
 (Eggspertly hidden by enthusiastic grandparents.)

Grandpa Elbe is my Egg Caddy.

Score!

Found another one! Woot!

Surveying my eggy loot!

Later that Afternoon at Aunt Karen and Uncle Paul's...

Grandma Susan steals some baby bunny cuddles!

Playing b-ball before lunch with Daddy, who won the Watkins' fam's Bracketology bragging rights this year.
VCU, you let Mama down, yo.

He got game. Serious game.

Tossing the tennis ball with Cousin Kevin.

Um, Aunt Karen? Uncle Paul? There's a monstrous earthworm in your garden!

Family pic to commemorate Easter 2012.
We tried to get a photo with the Easter Bunny a couple of weeks ago, but Arlo had a masterfully blood-curdling
 meltdown as soon as he laid eyes on that tail-coated rabbit.
 It was like Santa Redux.

Hey, those are MY bunny ears, Daddy!

And a little live action egg hunting, for optimal adorableness:

Untitled from RM on Vimeo.

Barin' It: Kitchen Edition

What? You mean the first thing you do after your morning bath isn't run to your daddy and demand to help unload the dishwasher while you're still dripping wet and completely naked? But nude dishwasher emptying is the very definition of fun!

A Belated Happy Fat Tuesday

Last Saturday the Petco in Cape hosted a Mardi Gras costume parade for local pets, and because Arlo harbors wild affection for all things dog-related, I couldn't let him miss this little canine fete. The Humane Society of Southeast Missouri was also there fundraising and boasting a trio of tempting, adorable black lab mix puppies, with whom, of course, Arlo promptly fell in puppy love. At home it's a one giant doggie diss-fest of a day for Arlo; Jordan, our Westie, has never warmed to him. Jordan has never been hostile, but he has nipped in Arlo's direction when Arlo's affection has been a little too potent for his tastes. On a good day he tolerates Arlo; other days he mostly naps safely under our table, out of Arlo's loving grasp. I wonder if Arlo's infatuation with dogs would be less so if his love for Jordan weren't so unrequited.

Anyway, the Mardi Gras parade brought out an interesting mix of people. Let's just say that I'm not sure who is weirder--the people who dress their pets up for public display, or the people who pointedly visit Petco with the express purpose of watching said parade.

There were also two mini horses (or were they ponies? I don't know!) in Petco. Yes, IN Petco. It looked like a local young equestrian group was fundraising as well. I tried to introduce Arlo to the mini horses/ponies, since he's enjoyed his visits with the neighboring horses at Grandma and Grandpa Watkins' house before, but he was frightened by the ponies this time. They were perfectly docile, batting their gorgeously dark, long lashes at us, but Arlo didn't buy it. Maybe next time!

One of the humane society's volunteers snapped this picture and posted to their Facebook page. I took a peek at some of the pups for adoption through the humane society, which was such a heart-string-tugger. I am certain there is another dog in our family's future, when the time is right for us.

Happy Valentine's Day!

These are pictures I used to make a handmade paper Valentine for Nick. I tucked into his lunch for a little Valentine's Day surprise.

Arlo will be 14 months old this week. Can you believe that? I can think of nothing sweeter. :)

Arlo Meets a Big Fish

As winter trudges on, keeping us indoors, I am continuously on the prowl for indoor (and preferably free) activities around town to engage Arlo and his ever-burgeoning store of energy. I took him to the Cape Girardeau Conservation Nature Center on a whim this rainy Friday afternoon, and it was delightful. Arlo is a big fan of the animal kingdom right now, and he had a brilliant time observing birds, exploring displays about swamps, petting taxidermied animals, and meeting some really big fish.

My small fry greets a very big fry:

An Evolution of Eating

Recently I found a bunch of old videos of Arlo, some of them from the early days of my maternity leave, when Arlo was just a wee babe. He has changed so much over the course of this last year. Like, he looks like a completely different child altogether. I watched several of the videos with Arlo this morning, and he was rivited by the baby on the laptop screen. I was, too. It is so hard to believe that he was ever that tiny. And, um, so stationary. I can hardly remember what that feels like, the small weight of newborn Arlo folded against my chest. I am so glad we have these videos to help us reminisce. I hope that as technology evolves, so too will ways for us to continue watching these for decades to come. I imagine myself as an 80 year old woman tearfully watching these videos and then squeezing my eyes tightly and trying to summon the sensation of my swaddled, sweet boy in my new mama arms.
Sigh.

ANYWAY.

Speaking of differences over time, here's a cute contrast of Arlo's eating. This first video is of Arlo's first ever solid food--mashed banana. He wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it, and he ultimately never was very interested in purees. This prompted us to explore baby-led weaning for solid introduction, and it has been a pretty awesome experience. I wholeheartedly think baby-led weaning has made Arlo a more adventurous eater, and I think it has made our mealtimes what they should be: fun. (Can I get a holla for those deliciously chunky baby thighs?)



And this is what happens when Daddy works evenings. Mama teaches you how to blow raspberries with food in your mouth. (This video is from December 2011.)

Long Time, No See

Boy, have I been slacking over here. What can I say? Life with a buzzing toddler provides very few moments of stillness, and in those moments of stillness I prefer to spend them completing precious tasks such as, oh, I don't know, peeing in solitude.

Arlo and I flew to Richmond week before last to attend my sister's baby shower. We had a great 5 days in Virginia, and we were also able to catch up with Grandma Dee and Grandpa James, Nana and Poppa Mathias, my childhood bestie Jenn, and the awesome Pryor-Kolster fam during our stay. The weather was AAHmazing while we were there, and I took Arlo for long walks in the sunshine several times.What a tonic for the soul, y'all. I have missed our long walks. After his afternoon nap one day, I took Arlo out for some frozen yogurt, and we shared spoonfuls of tart yogurt and fresh fruit under a warm sun. And afterwards we took another walk, and with his sticky hand in my sticky hand, the afternoon felt pretty darn perfect.

And it was that sharing of spoons that landed us in some sad, sad shape in the days to follow. Airports and airplanes are some funky, germy places, and Arlo slurped up a mean virus during our travel to Virginia, I'm guessing. A few days later he began to show symptoms in earnest, but it was too late. He'd already gifted that virus to me, that sweetheart. We were highly-productive snot-factories, the two of us, coughing and aching the whole way home. It was a miserable trip home, and it even included a cancelled flight. Boo! Traveling solo with a toddler is a demanding exercise, and it's made even more rigorous and cumbersome when you're running at about 50%. If you ever wanted to know what supermom looks like, she is the one with a coughing toddler in the Ergo, carrying a Britax Boulevard in one hand, two pieces of hulking luggage in the other, and no free hands with which to wipe the copious strands of snot dangling from her nose at the airport. Oh, and also the one who momentarily zonks out on the plane while her baby is nursing, and when she wakes up said baby is no longer nursing and her breast is just hanging out for all the folks in row 15 to see. I was more embarrassed about the snot than the brief Girls Gone Wild moment, if I may say so.

Once we were settled at home I took Arlo to the pediatrician, and she prescribed him a nebulizer. He had breathing treatments for the rest of the week, tolerating it decently. I would queue up a few Sesame Street clips on the laptop, and he'd sit in my lap and we'd watch them together while the neb did its thing. I forgot how badass Sesame Street was. (And it'd be even more badass if they began including nursing images like they did in days of yore.) We're both feeling much better, thank goodness. It was not a fun time. I repeat: Not. A. Fun. Time.

Also, Arlo has sprouted his seventh tooth while we were away, his third on the bottom. I feel like it changes his whole smile, ramping up the adorableness exponentially.

And, now, what you really clicked over here to see, pictures of that rambunctious, cool kid of ours, taken a couple of weeks ago at one of the playgrounds here in Cape:

Scenes from Christmas

Get this green paint off of me!
 (Decorating salt dough ornaments, and not enjoying it AT ALL.)

Arlo's  first homemade Christmas ornament!

Helping Daddy unfurl the Christmas tree

I look maaahvelous, daahling.

Oooooh, what does this do?

This is clearly my most favorite new toy ever,
 so I know you couldn't have possibly just told me to put it down.

Heading out to deliver Christmas cards and homemade pumpkin pie granola to our new neighbors on Christmas Eve

Celebrating Christmas Eve by wearing my new Christmas jams and throwing toys in the dishwasher, of course.

The first gift Arlo opened from Mommy and Daddy on Christmas morning, a Blabla doll.
He is a raccoon, and we've named him Kit. Instant BFF's, y'all.

I have an insatiable appetite for books. I love to read them AND eat them.

We had a lovely Christmas morning with Arlo! We decided early on that we wanted to be very intentional with Arlo's Christmas gifts, so we opted to take a Want/Need/Wear/Read approach. Want = Blabla doll; Need = new Kleen Kanteen Sippy Cup; Wear = Christmas pajamas (he actually picked these out himself, clearly enamored of the sheepdog on the front of the shirt); and Read = 4 new books.  I was really inspired by the idea of putting such serious thought into these four categories, and it made shopping enjoyable, too. We had such a great time with this that we're thinking we'll take the same approach next year. 

A New Year

2011 was intense in myriad respects: love and gratitude, friendship and loneliness, rejuvenation and exhaustion, anxiety and peace. There are years of my life that I simply do not remember with any great detail. 2011 will not, most assuredly, be one of those fade-away years.

There was so much change–substantial change–in my life in 2011. I am wondering: Did 2011 change me? Like, fundamentally change who I am as an individual? Or did 2011 simply punch up the former subtleties in my life, in the way a pinch of salt brings out the richness of chocolate?

The trifecta of big change this year: parenting, quitting my job, moving our whole life to a new state. I don’t know that you can experience any of these things in isolation and not feel changed, on some level, by them. In concert? It’s like Extreme Makeover, Life Edition. For realsies. There were days where it seemed I just barely coped, and days where I maybe even, dare I say it, thrived a little in searching for a new foothold in all the upturned pieces of my life this year.

Something that was burnished to clarity this year for me was this: I am longing for less. Less stress, less distraction, less clutter, less material, less waste, less ambivalence, less drama. What I deeply crave, I now realize, is simplicity and presence. This isn’t a resolution for 2012, but rather a bubbling undercurrent I feel. For once in my life I am content to just be. It has been a difficult year, and as the turbulent waters of 2011 recede, all I feel is gratitude, dewy on my skin, for all of it. What is that about? I don’t quite understand it, but I’m just going to go with it.

I wonder about our 2012, what it will bring us. I wonder when Arlo will say his first sentence; I wonder if we’ll be able to grow a garden; I wonder if we’ll move again; I wonder if I’ll feel a drive (or the financial necessity) to return to work. But, ultimately, I am content to just be here. In this day. In the seemingly small moments–like nursing Arlo through a nap, having a cup of coffee while I read blogs, bundling Arlo in the stroller to walk the dog, or cuddling down with Nick at the end of the day while watching a movie–that make me feel sweepingly big things. I’m not saying that it’s all perfect, ’cause it’s not. But it is close enough.

If 2012 is filled with moments like these, well, then, surely it, too, will be a good romp:

Scoping out the menagerie at the playground

Thoroughly engrossed by passing skateboarders

We all live in a yellow submarine.

Helllloo up there, Arlo!

Oh, the cuteness.