Spin 'round, 'round baby

Julian loves to dance and sing when Ian plays guitar. If you can't get enough of Julian's spinning antics, you can see another video later today over on my YouTube account.

Snapshots of love (and a wedding)

If we hadn't done about nine loads of laundry out at Uncle Tom's National Park today, I'd probably feel a little more like sharing what's going on in this crazy life of ours. Let's just say that at the end of the day, we're all pretty pooped. The great news is that it's a good kind of busy.

Guilt tapping me on the shoulder to edit these wedding pictures finally won, so I was able to at least get this small gallery of the wedding ceremony itself. Our incredible photographer Brian Diggs took thousands of beautiful photos, now it's just a matter of sharing them in an easily digestible manner. (Speaking of, does anyone have any ideas to make a stop motion movie with these photos? I've been trying iMovie, without success, and I just don't think Jump Cut could handle it.)

Anyway, looking at these photos takes me back to this beautiful moment in time, standing under my sister's yucca and lavender altar, Alberto's voice and soothing words of wisdom, Julian tugging on my dress to be with us while we shared our thoughts on loving each other. My promise. Ian's promise. To do our best.

Because that's the only thing we can really promise.

Exiting the recovery zone

I haven't posted much on what Julian's turning one has meant for me. It's been a few weeks since the big day, which really wasn't that big of deal. I didn't expect any revelations to come immediately, but a few have come in the time since.

I feel like the first year of Julian was a recovery zone. Maybe it was the C-section that really knocked me off guard physically for the first couple of months. Or maybe all mothers feel this. Everything was off because everything was new. The first few (dozen?) times you go to the grocery store with the baby, it's a strange adventure. Same with going to visit your parents or friends. It's easily six months before the things you did before feel remotely "normal" but even then, it seems a vaguely familiar version of your pre-baby life. I think it took even more months for life with Julian to feel as natural as life without him did. I mean, we're still working on that, but it's leaps and bounds better than even just a few months ago.

The interrupted sleep I think really starts to get to you, too. And Julian is truly an all-star sleeper! I can't imagine what some of my mommy friends are going through with babies still waking up all night. It can really screw with your head. Just like the whiny, pick-me-up cry that Ian still cringes at. And I had my own aches and pains post delivery; I can only imagine the aches and pains that lingered for some of my fellow mommies.

It doesn't take a scientist to tell you that babies are so adorable, especially to their parents, because it makes them harder to resent for making life so difficult at times. But cuteness aside, there's something so intrinsically gratifying about raising Julian that makes all of the hardships easier. I tried to describe it to some of the What Not to Wear crew members who are contemplating babies, all of whom were over 30 and looking at my 24-year-old self like I was a nut for having a kid "so early." But they just didn't get it. Moving to Brooklyn, giving up their Manhattan lifestyle were foremost on their minds. I tried to delicately tell them that post-baby, those concerns that seem like such monumental hurdles to parenthood become insignificant.

It sounds like I had an awful first year of motherhood, doesn't it? Being on the other side of baby's first year is just allowing me to be really honest with myself about how difficult it was. It's still challenging, don't get me wrong, but that year, that recovery zone, is just now starting to fade. I'm starting to be able to do more things for myself that I didn't feel I could last year. I'm taking some online classes, planning a family vacation and a wedding, renewing my passion for running, thinking about joining a fall softball league. Ian is, too. He's getting down and dirty with this recording unit to finish the album he started. He's able to juggle Julian and his own wants and desires a little better. We're both in consistently better moods despite the wrenches Julian may throw in our plans.

But no one could have told me about that year, just like no one can really tell me about the years to come. You have to live it for yourself to really understand it. Religious folks all my life have talked and talked and talked until they are blue in the face about faith. And if I go on and on about the topic of faith here, I will join them. Suffice it to say that having Julian has solidified my belief that faith is an action that others do not have right to doubt. We all have brains and ambition and instinct. So when Ricci volunteers in Senegal, my best friend from high school remarries a year after she divorces, the Shelton family prepares to welcome a wee brother or sister for Julian's baby friend Adeline and BAT picks up her life in Austin and moves to the sure-to-be-fabulous Steamboat Springs, Colo., wish them well. Acknowledge that they are living the life they intend.

I'd like to think that's what we're all trying to do here.

Harvest time

Fall, as rich as fall in Texas can be, is in full swing. The high is only in the low 80s; we don’t have to throw on the air conditioning at noon; the leaves have a light yellow hue to them; the underbrush along the Greenbelt is turning brown; the night is quietly stealing a few more minutes of light each day. Someone at work made the first reference, in jest, to “Tis’ the season.” Everyone groaned. We know what’s coming…

Julian has four teeth on the top and a third cutting through on the bottom! He little face has been swallowed up by these teeth. Remember when you were a kid and your adult front teeth grew in? Because he’s so small, these wee baby teeth take up his whole mouth. Oh, and he’s rocking a Madonna gap already. He’s a little entertainer already.

With the teeth, Julian really seems more boyish lately. He loves to play games with you. We’re teaching him how to chase us around and roll the ball back and forth. He loves peek-a-boo and tickle games. And he’ll do anything, anything, to eat paper. Nothing is safe: posters on the wall, receipts in your purse, Blockbuster dvd mailer slips, books on the bookshelf. Oh and the toilet paper. Lest we forget his love for the TP. Not that he knows how to use it, of course.

Ian has been recording like a madman lately. He’s got five songs on the go, most of which he’s has strumming along in his head for years. Some of which end up getting stuck in my head they are so catchy. “Tell me are you ready, ready?” In the next months, I’ll let ya’ll know when and how you can get your hands on these limited edition, soon-to-sell-out, collector’s copies of “Death of a Rock Star,” which you can brag to your friends is a modern-day, honest-to-God concept album. It’s pretty cool. I’m proud of him.

Julian is involved in the recording process. Ian will sit Julian in his high chair next to the recording unit and mic and let him watch as he plays and records. Julian will wave his hands up and down, not quite dancing or clapping his hands yet, but his own babyfied version of musical expression. I can’t wait to have kid dance parties over here. Ruby, who’s long been walking, is testing out the different ways she can move on two feet. She’s a go-getter, I tell you. Damn near running already. Julian, on the other hand, seems pretty happy with crawling like a silverback gorilla, butt up in the hair and legs straight. But don’t let him fool you. He’s a fast little sucker. You turn your back for one second and he’s eating toilet paper again.

Erin, who’s no longer from Portland OR New York, came down for a visit this week. She’s loving her Dallas apartment and the anticipation of starting her totally awesome job this week at a very prominent ad agency in Dallas. (You know those Chick-fil-a ads with the cows telling you to eat more “chikn,” yup that’s her new employer.) It’s so wonderful to have her so close. I mean, Dallas to Austin is probably the worst drive in the country, but it’s better than 3 days’ driving to Oregon or NYC. Now if only we could get those Soesiedelmantaerts to move down here…