Best Friends

June 15th. Olive's last evening as an only child.

Up until Quinn's delivery date, Olive clearly understood that a baby was residing in Big Mama's tummy. When asked where the baby was, she'd point at my belly. When asked what the baby's name was, she'd confidently answer, "Quim." My munchkin showered her unborn sister (whom I promised her would be the greatest of buddies) with kisses daily, and seeing Olive exhibit so much care for sibling she had yet to meet melted my frosty heart.

June 17th. Sisters meet and greet for the first time.

My first visitor the day after my C-section was Olive. Well, sort of. She arrived at the hospital accompanied by her designated drivers and chaperones, my huz, mom and nanny, Jassell.) Here she is, in the arms of her Jassell. Olive was initially uncertain about Quinn... as if to think THAT was in your tummy? My thoughts exactly, Olive... But then I offered to take selfies of us entertaining Quinn. Clearly, Olive enjoys a good selfie. Here's the nut offering her sister an Easter egg.

Hi Quinn. Unfortunately for you, we are related.

I thought everything was under control (feelings-wise on Olive's end), until I was told by Josh that Olive had been telling him back at home, "Lost my best friend. Lost Mama." Once I checked out of the hospital, I tried to be as attentive towards her as possible, but it was difficult, seeing that I had a hard time getting out of bed due to the surgery wound, was avoiding stairs during my first week back (Olive's room is on a different floor from mine), and was pretty much a slave to Quinn's feeding schedule. Newborn was practically attached to my boobs.

NOT a strange digital compilation. This is an actual photo of the two in our breakfast nook. 

Olive took one look at Quinn (who's donning a Woombie) and pointed out, "Very Hungry Caterpillar!"

Kid is right on the money.

Though it was difficult for her to accept all the changes happening around her, Olive put on a happy face for us that first week. She really did try.

It ain't easy sharing the love and affection of one's parents.

But the huz and I made sure we snuck in quality time with our two and a half year-old.

During my first weekend back, I had the following conversation with Olive. One that involved nose pinching and speaking through our pinched noses. She likes the nasal tone.

Me: "Who's mama's best friend?"

Olive:"Quinn."

Me: "No, it's Olive."

Olive: *two hands palming her chest* "OLIVE?!" *ear to ear grin*

NOTE: Olive pronounces her own name as "August"

Baby girl, Quinn may be my breast friend, but you will always be my best friend.

Olive's been in good spirits ever since the issue of best friends was discussed. (It also helps that two and a half weeks later, I'm also mobile and able to walk her to her bedroom and play with her.) I'm proud to share that she sings "Happy Bird-Day" to Quinn daily (Olive is an incredible older sister), and is quick to tell me she loves me everyday. I'm the luckiest Mama in the world...

Sleepless in Silverlake

Olive before her arrival. 

I joked that she was suffering from performance anxiety when her due date arrived 

and she chose not to make an appearance. 

For the record, the fashionably late tot was ultimately evicted from my belly based on the doc's recommendation.

I'm having trouble sleeping. I suppose this isn't the least bit surprising seeing that I'm over 29 weeks pregnant, am harboring a nasty cold that prevents me from breathing, and my "wombmate," Quinn, is in full-on disco mode at 2 in the morning. "Why you little..."

Which leads me to Amazon. To all the knocked-up mamas out there, do you own a Snoogle? I survived my first pregnancy without having to purchase this much-talked-about body pillow. Visually, it hurts my eyes, and we've got enough junk in our home as is, but I'm desperate for a good night's sleep. I've got 30 extra pounds on my frame and the added weight is taking a toll. I could use some "cuddle me comfort".

What the heck.
*Add to Cart*

I think I'll name him Thor. If he delivers on his promises, I will haul him to Maui.

Say My Name

Brunching with her Pa and Ma at the new Ace Hotel in Downtown LA

Conversations with Olive

What's baba's name? 

Olive: Josh.

What's your doggy's name?

Olive: Beans.

What's mommy's name?

Olive: Babe.

Olive's sitter is out-of-town this week, so I've been juggling her school and social schedule with my work schedule. Madness, I tell you. Madness! But I do realize that all the extra time we've had together these past few days is a blessing in disguise. Once the baby is born, quality time alone with my toddler will be hard to come by. That said, I'm trying my best to savor our precious moments together... with much patience!

Scraps

"Bliss only finds those with open arms."

If that's the case, Olive's odds for finding bliss are pretty darn good.

(Source of quote unknown. I found it via Pinterest)

The distance between my under-boob and top-of-crotch is a short one. So babies I incubate have nowhere to grow and stretch but outwards. As you can imagine, I am looking mighty deformed as of late. I am a pinata on legs, sporting a belly button that couldn't possibly protrude further. I actually have nightmares that my belly button knot would unravel itself and all my innards (amniotic fluids and Baby Quinn included) would gush out of the opening. Too graphic? Okay. Sometimes I overshare.

Manatee bod aside, all is well. I'm feeling as good as I can feel for a 26 week pregnant mama. Ordered a pair of ridiculous Chloe boots I've been eyeing since last summer's trip to London and made a trip to Destination Maternity after work only to haul home a dress and stretchy denim. Figure having new shoes and clothes will make me feel a sliver more attractive than I did last weekend. I had helped throw a baby shower for a friend and ended up wearing my Sunday best - tapered sweat pants. Quite frankly, they were all that I could find that (1) were clean, and (2) fit. Since I'm no supermodel, the sweats actually looked like sweats, and well, let's just say I spent a good deal of time seated in hopes of hiding the business below my massive waistline.

It helps to keep busy during the pregnancy countdown. Appeasing pregnancy snack attacks* and work aside, I've been on pee-pee watch. Olive is two years and two months to date, and we've been potty-training. She's been really good about alerting this old Ma about her need to potty, but there are the occasional "uh-oh"s. Which leads me to share the following piece of valuable info I learned from the almighty Internet with fellow brave Mamas experiencing accidents:

How to Remove Urine Stains from Upholstery

Mix white vinegar + water. Dab stain.

Mix baking powder + water. Dab stain.

Vacuum the stain.

Wait for the stain to dry. Pray while doing so.

VOILA!

Miss Uh-Oh looking like she's just Uh-Oh'd and Le Huz

* Avocado toast. Haagen Daz Peanut Butter Pie ice cream. Chicken Pad Thai. Um, yes, I plan to work out like a mad person two months after delivering Baby Quinn.

Hopes & Dreams

When Olive was first born, she was gifted a lovely baby book. Or no. Rephrase. When Olive was first born, I was gifted a baby book. Because let's get real people. A baby book is really just mommy homework. Super moms eagerly fill them in regularly (like they're supposed to) while shitty moms *ahem*, push them to the side until their child hits 9 months of age, and then freak out. "What was the ankle biter's first word? When did she take her first step? A mini envelope to house a lock of hair from her first haircut?!" Uh-oh. I'd like to phone-a-friend...

Having forgotten all the sentimental stuff (details of who, what, when and where), I recall jumping to fill in all the blanks that did not require me to jog my memory. "Hopes and dreams for baby." Ermahgerd! I can tackle this one. I can make this up now. Felt-tip pen in hand, I scribbled, "When you grow up, I hope you grow up to be a happy non-asshole." Oh shit. I did not just curse in her baby book.

I did. Needless to say, I stopped filling out Olive's baby book after the third page...

Fast forward to today, my baby girl is exactly what I hoped and dreamed for. A happy non-asshole.

She is such a delight to have around. Funny and chatty. Kind and generous. Now... was I supposed to be more specific? As in, what hopes and dreams I hope for her career-wise? She's only two, but check her out. My little sous chef...

I may have created a monster...

Baby apron and utensils by Odette Williams

Survivors

Happy 2nd Birthday, to our beloved tormentor, Olive.

Mommy and Daddy love you.

Even if our faces suggest otherwise.

Supermodel, Work

New perspective.

Taking a moment.

Olive and the nectarine.

Death of the nectarine.

The talented Emily Ulmer photographed my nugget a couple weeks ago.

Above are a few of the magical images that resulted.

I gasped when I saw them...

Paris is Always a Good Idea

I'm going to Paris next week. 

OMIGOD, you're so lucky! 

I'm bringing Olive. 

You're doing WHAT?!

The munchkin and I have been back in La-La Land for two weeks now, but trying not to get too comfy for we will be on the road again end-month. We're headed for Paris and London soon and we are psyched. OUI-OUI! Olive loves visiting new places and seeing new things. I absolutely cannot wait to show her mommy's idea of heaven on Earth.

T-8 days. Going to dig up my Amelie DVD pronto for inspiration.

Masterpiece

A highly accurate rendering of our pooch by Olive and the sitter.

Bad Baby

Olive has a new nickname: Bad Baby. 

While in Taipei, she perfected her walking skills, and became super cocky. This cockiness quickly manifested itself into naughtiness. She climbs stuff she knows she shouldn't climb, throws food she knows she shouldn't throw, dry-cries non-stop to get her way... *sigh* Each time she misbehaves, the huz and I yell, "BAD! BAD BABY!" To which she responds by repeating the word, "BAD!" and following it up with a mischievous giggle. We know we shouldn't laugh (for fear of encouraging poor behavior), but we can't help it...

Munchkin Room Makeover

"Remember, I'm not a regular mom. I'm a cool mom."

Prior to the munchkin's arrival, I clocked in a ridiculous number of hours surfing the blogosphere for nursery inspiration. There are so many stylish mamas out there, and they all seem capable of balancing fun and chic when it comes to decorating a kid's space. Me? Not so much. I was determined to copy one of the uber-cool Lonny and Elle Decor-worthy rooms, and wah-lah! My baby girl would grow up to be a kind, happy being because of her fab environment, and I will earn the title of cool mom. *fist pump*

Unfortunately, as her due date got closer and closer, I found myself throwing my hands up in the air - surrendering to the interior decorating gods. The room le huz and I had hoped to put her in was a challenge to work with (three inconveniently-situated windows paired with two separate closet doors). And instead of tackling the task head on, I decided to temporarily house the munchkin in a teeny-tiny room off our kitchen - one that was intended for a maid back when in the '20s when the house was built - and basically denied her a proper play space until now. Yes, well, a year and a half later, I'm getting closer to presenting our baby girl with the rad room she deserves.

Before: Depressing cave of clutter.
(I hadn't entered the room for over a year since because the live-in-nanny had been staying here.)

After: Bright. Happy. Fun. 

We painted the room and window trim in Benjamin Moore's Swiss Coffee, got rid of the heavy charcoal gray drapes, and splurged on some dramatic wallpaper - Hicks' Grand by Cole & Son. I REALLY wanted to install toile wallpaper but ultimately decided to go with a more contemporary choice. The wallpaper is from Walnut, the grass-like shag rugs (we laid down two) and green gingham floor pillow are from IKEA, the vintage shelving unit is by Muriel Coleman, the orange Maharam zigzig pillow was purchased from Rummage, the rocker-glider is by Dwell, the African stool on which the owl is perched was picked up at the Rose Bowl Flea, and finally, the chubby owl was picked up during a trip to Tokyo from Kiddyland.

More shots of this work-in-progress to come. Curtains still need to be hung, the crib and bed need to be moved in, an overhead light fixture needs to be installed, and the closets are begging for some Container Store Elfa components...

Ma's getting closer, Olive.

Constants

She may be growing up, but the pout remains.

Father of the Year

Le huz feeding le monster her breakfast (who happens to be perched on her princess-themed potty). 

* aww *

Kiss Kiss

i watch this on repeat.
love my little terror so very much.

Bite of the Big Apple

Back from our whirwind trip to the Big Apple. 

I left my voice there.

And I'm pretty sure little Olive left her heart there.

From the looks on her face for most of the trip, I'm pretty sure kiddo thinks the place is faboosh.

I didn't think she was going to understand what was going on around her when we booked the tickets, but one should never underestimate a munchkin's ability to process and appreciate. My baby girl's eyes were wide-open during each stroll and cab-ride... There didn't seem to be a bite of food during each meal out that she turned down... And don't even get me started on the joy on her face when we first stepped foot into FAO Schwarz... Girl knew what was going on. And she was on a mission...

I spy tutus! Oh dear...

Mama, pandas!

And ooh! Extra-large Chupa chups! 

I lick it, I keep it!

Ahh... Vacays are always fun, but boy am I happy to be back. 

Pretty sure she is as well.

Berry Berry Frightening

Mother nature can be a real witch. 

East Coasters, stay safe.

Happy Halloween!

Escape Artist

The monster hates hats.

She removes 'em milli-seconds after I place them on her fat head... 

Thank you, Auntie Tiff, for this adorable topper!

Summer in October

Los Angeles, what gives?

The munchkin wants to wear her trapper hat.

Issues

My daughter enjoys plucking her father's leg hairs.

I know she's at it when I hear my husband screaming from another room.

Master of My Universe

Holy crap. Our munchkin is over eight-and-a-half months-old. For those of you who followed me through my post-partum months (remember THIS entry?) I am long past my exhausted-frustrated-crying phase of mommyhood and am now in the triumphant-relieved-amused phase. I am in total, utter love with the ankle biter. Josh and I feel so lucky to have someone so incredible in our lives. I know I'm totally gushing, but look...

Behold. Our budding foodie. 

Ordering up a storm at Umami Burger. "Got milk?" (The answer is, "No.")

OMG. So filial!

Helping her Ma fold her Pa's undies. What fun.

With my mini-me finally under control, le hubby and I went on our first Sundate (Sunday date) yesterday. We ventured out for brunch and a movie sans baby. (She chillaxed at home with the nanny.) We grabbed a very adult brunch at Barney Greengrass and then caught a viewing of Wes Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom. Though physically away from Olive all morning-afternoon, neither of us were able to refrain from talking about nor avoid sharing iPhone photos of her during our short time away. Which leads me to point out...

It's a good thing we're obsessed with this baby. I hear there's a strict no-returns-policy when it comes to this sort of thing :)

Doodles to come.