Goodbye 4th Trimester

9 Oct

He’s 3 months old! That means that the 4th trimester is over and I have a real baby on my hands. Not just a crying little wormy newborn, but a real baby, with likes and dislikes and smiles and laughter. Yup. Welcome to real life, little guy. 

So far, Desy’s favorite things are nursing, smiling and his big brother Remy. Seriously. I was excited about the brother bond before he was born, but seeing the way he lights up with his big brother is around, well, there are just no words for that. 

Speaking of big brother, he’s been SO GOOD!!!! I’m shocked by it daily. When he sees “Baby Des” he gets so excited and wants to hold him or kiss him, it’s just awesome. He also nicknamed him “Noooookie” pronounced just like that. Noooookie. 

Desy was about 3 days old when he got this name. After we moved, we found a restaurant in our new hood called “The Nook” and they have a big sign inside that says “Nookie’s”. Needless to say, it’s the only restaurant Remy ever wants to go to… Good thing though, cuz the pancakes. Yum.  
I’ll update this post with my giant baby’s stats after his apt next week, but for now, he’s huge, delish, and amazing. Such a sweet soul, I can already tell. Happy 3 months of life little man. Mama loves you. 


The Happiest $2 I Ever Spent. 

13 Sep

For about 8 years, I’ve had a $2 bill in my wallet. A long time ago someone told me that if you kept a $1 bill in your wallet, you’d always have money if you needed it. So, my lucky $2 bill has kept me out of trouble and I’ve never needed to spend it. 

Today though, we went on an adventure that wasn’t what we planned, but so much more fun. Heading for the Autry Museum turned into a detour to Travel Town, In-N-Out for lunch and PONY RIDES instead of naps! #momoftheyear

By the time we got to the ponies, we were out of cash. I had forgotten that the Griffith Park Pony Rides are CASH ONLY!!!! #worstmomoftheyear

My little cowboy was so sad!! The Trains took credit cards, but the ponies don’t. WTF GPPR?? 

While daddy and Remy headed for (another) train ride, I remembered that $2 bill in my wallet. Pony rides are $3, and what mom can’t scrounge $1 in change from the bottom of the car (sure it may be hiding under French fries, but you know it’s there somewhere). 

It was the best $2 I’ve ever spent. As the boys took off zooming past me on the train, I got to wave the pony ride ticket to show my boy. I didn’t get a pic of that smile, but let’s just say he was so happy. And that made it all worth it. 






And then there’s me and the baby: 


Clearly, baby is jealous that he isn’t old enough for pony rides.  

First Day of (pre)School, Take 2! 

10 Sep

It’s no secret that the last few months have been unparalleled with change, stress and events, including but not limited to a major move. That move ripped off the comfort bandaid of needing to explore preschools, since we loved Remy’s daycare so much and didn’t plan to leave until they kicked us out. 

Well, moving away (only 20 miles, but in LA traffic, that’s like 20 hours) forced us to recognize that our little man is growing up, and needs more structure and education than a daycare could provide. That could also be because there’s just no other daycare like the one we had and everything else just seemed to be miles behind where my 2-going-on-8 year old boy is at developmentally. 

Before we moved, I found a school that seemed really good, but with a newborn who hates traveling, I wasn’t able to tour it until after we moved. At that point, the one open space they had (for full time) was taken and we were left with that school only as a part time option. Not awesome.  

I found another school that was close by, but was much less intimate and far more “public schoolish” even though it still cost more than our first choice. It was great, but not awesome. People were sweet, but it ultimately didn’t give me the same good feels as the other school. 
We reserved a spot for option #2 for M/W/F, option #1 for T/Th and I kept calling #1 every day to see if the wait list had opened up yet. Nope. Nothing. So bummed. 

As summer closed, maternity time off is dwindling down and my babe needs to get comfy in his new place, the start of schools were eminent. He was going to have to adapt to multiple environments and I was going to have to harness my emotional outbursts at the thought. 

Remy’s first day of school at option #2:     Was yesterday. 
I got him already, packed a nice bento lunch:   

 And we were off, paperwork, check for a zillion dollars, and outrageous emotions in hand.

We got to school (alluring him by calling it a “playground”) and I tucked him into his new classroom. Remy’s a HUGE TALKER, so I asked the teacher if any other the other kids were too. She said yes and brought him to two kids who looked at us blankly and said nothing. Meanwhile, Remy spouted off about the kind of dinosaurs he’d found in the bucket and was telling everyone about them (#shamelessmombrag). 

I got myself together, said goodbye and left him there. With kids who don’t talk. Kicking myself that I made a bad decision and guilting myself to go back and get him. 
I finished the paperwork (BTW- can we talk about that sometime???? How much paperwork can you possibly need for preschool?!) and finally, handed them my aforementioned bazillion dollar check. 

Not even 20 seconds after getting to my car, my phone rang. It was school #1 saying that they had an opening and it was ours for the taking! It wouldn’t be available until 10/1, but it was ours! “I’ll take it” was quickly followed by “Now I have to break up with the other school who’s currently in possession of my firstborn son. Shit.”

I can’t tell you how awkward that conversation was. I mean, I can, but I don’t know that anyone could possibly understand! The switch was flipped and the lights of “welcome to our school” were immediately off and replaced by “come get your kid and get out”. Well, that’s not really true. They let me keep him there for 2 hours, and were cold as ice about it, but I had a sleeping infant and couldn’t leave any sooner. Oops. Sorry, it’s not you, it’s me!! Ok, it’s you, but oh well. 

So, TODAY, Remy started his first day of school, again!!!    

Followed by:

And a big smile when I picked him up this afternoon! 
Drama is over, life can begin settling in now. I’m happy he’s where he is and even more happy that he’s only there a few days a week while I am still on maternity leave, before starting full time. Oh, timing. You’re a silly monster. Thanks for keeping me on my toes… Again. 

I’m Baaaaack!!!

3 Aug

It’s been almost 4 weeks since this new little life exited my body and I’m finally starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. After a ridiculously challenging pregnancy and an even harder labor/delivery, I’m starting to feel like I’ll heal one day soon and will be able to start living life again. 

To anyone who’s been c-sectioned before me; kudos to you for standing up and walking again! With the incredibly high rate of voluntary c-sections that exist in the world, it’s shocking to me that anyone would choose to do it TWICE! So hard to get back to normal!!!! Or, maybe I’m just old. ;) 

For now, here’s a picture of my happy place: 


Cancer Sucks… Again.

24 Apr
RIP, Sweet Andreea.

     RIP, Sweet Andreea.

I’m not well travelled internationally, but I have been to a few places. One of those places was Romania. I was there working with orphans with my old church, and it was a transformative time in my life. It was a long, long time ago, but the connection I feel towards the country, it’s people, and my memories there, are deep.

Several years after that trip, I was working in Orange County and as my company started to experience some rough patches, I found myself working part time at a local restaurant/bar. It was there that I heard the accent that I loved so much, from behind the bar, and out of the mouth of one of the best people I met while working there. We worked the “slow shifts” together, typically Saturday lunch and a few lunch shifts during the week, but Saturdays were our days to be buddies, since it was so slow.

Andreea was a beautiful person, inside and out. Her laugh was contagious. She was an amazing person, always kind hearted and yet sarcastic and funny. We talked about everything from food, to her country, to religion, to fashion in Paris (which I knew nothing of at the time), to relationships, to so many other things, I can’t even remember. She was one of those people who liked to “get in there” and wanted to know more about how people think and what motivates them to be a better person. She was a “deep friend” not a surface level, “oh that’s cool” kind of friend. She was in my head every time I saw her and we got in trouble ALL THE TIME for hanging out more than doing side work. She was the only person I could say the few phrases I remembered in Romanian to, and she would sometimes just speak Romanian to me, mostly when she wanted to give me a hard time, was in a funky mood, or just wanted to see me confused. I loved her.

Like all friendships that happen in a specific location and have an attachment to a specific situation, when I moved away, we lost touch. I thought about her often, but didn’t do a good job at staying connected. I had moved across the country, gotten engaged, was planning a wedding and was just self-absorbed. I looked for her on FB, but didn’t find her. Then one day, a friend of ours (also from the restaurant) posted a picture of his shaved head… and hers.

Clearly, she had cancer.

I emailed him immediately. He reconnected me to her current contact information and I called her right away.

She and I reconnected. She was doing ok. She was on the up and up. Later, she was in remission. I was pregnant with my first child and though I wanted to go see her, I thought I would have time after the baby was born (as all new moms think) and I was proven wrong. New babies take everything out of you and when you have limited time before returning to work, you prioritize the immediate and literally leave everything else behind. I did that.

Little did I know that today, I would find out that my sweet girl passed away yesterday, losing the fight to the brutality that is breast cancer. Apparently, she was ok, or so everyone thought. Last week, she was hospitalized and yesterday passed. I’m not sure what happened, or why her kidneys/liver failed so suddenly, but she’s gone. Just like that.

I’m heart broken at the loss of her, but am angry with myself for not being a better friend. Last night, I realized that it was my fault for not staying connected to her. I’m the one who moved, who promised to visit, and while I wasn’t ill-willed at all, I was also a bad friend.

I guess this is all to say, that it’s an important lesson learned, though it’s also too late to fix.

Andreea, I love you. Always have, always will. I know you’re with your angels. Rest in sweet peace, my friend.

Te iubesc.


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