UofA Baby!
When it comes to colleges, Madelyn swings more Wildcat than Mustang. Her daddy is a Cal Poly alumni, and while we love everything about San Luis Obispo and the drive (wineries!) up there, if Madelyn’s going to be a legacy of a university, it’s going to be Arizona. First and foremost, there’s no AEPhi at Cal Poly, so that’s a done deal. But also, Madelyn makes the most adorable cheerleader and UofA is all about athletics. I had so much fun going to football and basketball games — whether in human or Wilma Wildcat form.
So naturally, I was kvelling a few months ago when we took Madelyn to her first college basketball game: Wildcats vs. Trojans at USC.
In the morning, I did cheers in Madelyn’s room, and told her about how I fainted at my first football game. I pretended to demonstrate for her how to go up in a pyramid like the one time I successfully did on the basketball court. I can still hear the cheerleaders below me yelling up: “Squeeze your butt like you’re pinching a penny!”
We met up with our friends in the valley and carpooled to USC together where I debated on and off whether to take the stroller with me. “BUT IF I LEAVE IT UP ON THE CONCOURSE, WON’T IT GET STOLEN BECAUSE WE’RE IN THE GHETTO, OHMYGOSH!!!” I took it with me, and lo and behold, none of the accomplished and affluent USC fans were interested in my $60 Snap N Go that sweetly rested at the Galen Center. What? My cheap stroller frame isn’t good enough for you???????
During the game, Madelyn watched in awe of the boys who moved the big orange ball back and forth. She loved watching the videos on the big screen and wasn’t bothered at all by the sounds of cheering and buzzers. Our friends helped us out during the game when we needed free hands to make bottles or reach for a toy.
She tried to eat our chicken fingers and French fries, but told her that stadium food will have to wait. For now, there’s nothing like watching a game and throwing back a nice cold one. Of milk.
Most importantly, Madelyn is our good luck charm! The Cats beat the Trojans and now that the basketball season is over, I can probably say that that was the highlight of Wildcat basketball for 2012. We shall not speak of anything in the post season.
After the game, our crew got a bite at Freebirds across the street. Burritos and a baby: does it get any better than that?
So, Madelyn’s fate is sealed. Dear University of Arizona Admissions: Though a half-breed of Mustang and Wildcat, our daughter is a Wildcat at heart and will be overjoyed to be part of the freshman class of 2029.
Love Hurts
It’s been a while, but it’s finally time to come out with it and empower myself: I am being abused. The pinching, the scratching, the hair pulling — it’s all very painful and I am stuck in this relationship with no where to go. Because if I go, she will be alone during the day because babies can’t go to work with daddies or corporate finance people would never get anything done. So, I stay in this abusive relationship at home… with my daughter.
She has entered a stage that makes her very grabby and I know it’s just her curiosity, but she’s is literally killing the cat. I don’t really have a tail and fur and take a dump in a box, but you know, for the sake of metaphors and all, I’m a cat.
Little Miss Madelyn is a trickster, too. She wahh wahh wahhs when it’s naptime, so we snuggle up in the big chair in her room and I rock back and forth and she lulls away into dreamland, sucking on the bottle, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. The eyelids get heavy, the feet relax, her breaths become long and deep and then WHACK! Her little arm reaches out from its fake sleep, grabs my lip and twists it like I’m her Claymation Mommy, and digs her nails in deep to mark her territory.
Can babies be declawed? Will PETA get all up in my bidness about that?
It’s just all so shocking! What a faker she is, and what a sucker I am. Here I am thinking I have the most cherubic little lamb for a daughter, and then the pre-nap ritual turns into me rocking a baby who’s suddenly competing with Linda Blair for a movie role, but in real life.
Babies. Psshh. They make us all fat and keep us up all night and make stinky poops and then also have the nerve to physically beat up their moms. I literally had a scratch on my nose for a week that required me to cover it up with makeup! And I swear my hair is full of split ends, not from the dryer or flat iron, but from Madelyn’s tiny fingers pulling my strands one by one. I could make a brunette Barbie doll (is that Skipper?) coiffure with all the hair she’s pulled out. The other day, she bruised my mom’s lip with that twist maneuver she’s got up her onesie sleeve. I tell ya. Ruthless, these babies.
And yet. Sigh. I melt. With all the pain, I still keep running back for more. Even with all the abuse, I know she loves me and I love her.
But revenge is sweet, my friends. She may not realize it, but she’s paying for all that abuse now. You see, I put up embarrassing photos and exploit her on Born Friedman and 30 (yes, 30) years from now, her boyfriends will Google her and see this:
Hi Madelyn! Love ya! Mean it!
She doesn’t mean it…..really, Mommy!
Smooches, Madelyn!!
I can handle all those curiosity-driven pinches & kicks & scratches because I know they will all be over-shadowed and replaced with hugs & kisses & snuggles.
I <3 you Madelyn!
You my dear are brilliant! Love you mean it!!!!
Oh boy I understand!! This is truly one of the sweetest blogs I have ever read. And, I can relate, my first born daughter was competing with Linda Blair daily whenever she got over tired!!!! Glad to know I am not alone!!! Welcome to motherhood.
BBFF
Sometimes I feel like a parent from the old country, making a match for my daughter for her future. In this case, though, it’s not her husband I’m matching; it’s her best friend.
It only seems natural that best friends should be generational, and it’s so special that my best friend, Stefanie, and I have baby girls 5 months apart. BBFF — Baby Best Friends Forever — should be easy for the two munchkins since they both have the same hobbies (putting things in their mouth), tastes in food (Earth’s Best food and Mum Mums), cry schedule (no naps means cranky attitude), fashion style (Baby Gap for the win!), sense of humor (their mamas talk to them in crazy voices and they think it’s hilarious), and — most importantly — types of parents (Stef and I have been friends since 5th grade and we are way too much alike). So, there it is, written in stone — or computer monitor — Brielle + Madelyn = BBFF.
Stefanie and I go way, way, way back to the summers of Camp Alonim where we bonded over hairy kosher chicken, cute (?) pubescent Jewish boys, and complaints about sweat and the nature. We went our separate ways to college and lost touch because it was a [gasp!] Facebook-less era.
But then, only last spring, Stefanie saw a post (because we are now very much in a Facebook-full era) about my pregnancy and reached out to say congrats and that she has a newborn herself. Well, there’s nothing like a mama and a mama-to-be that unites women in mysterious ways. We reconnected and it was just like old times. We missed out on some pretty exciting life events like college graduations, engagements and weddings, and, most importantly, the birth of Brielle, but we are so happy to be in each other’s lives, and, best of all, making new memories with our babies.
During my pregnancy, I learned a lot from Stefanie and Brielle as I watched them team up as the cutest mother-daughter duo I know. A lot of my equipment and tricks of the trade are ideas from Stefanie because she really is a mama who knows best. And Stef was there for me, too. She came to the hospital after Madelyn came into the world and she saw me at my worst during my horrible recovery. She made me feel better about what I was going through, assured me I wasn’t crazy, and supported me through irrational talk and radical feelings. A lot of people in my life did, too, but, until Stefanie, I never really had a girlfriend so present and nearby who was also my rock.
Now that Madelyn is older, she and Brielle interact and it’s pretty much the most adorable thing in the world. They stare at each other and Brielle waves (Madelyn is still working on that trick) and we mamas exchange babies to try to make them laugh. We always succeed. We have fun with our Mommy & Me group and like to go out on great adventures to the mall or lunches with the husbands, too. I know it’s just the start of many years of friendship as families and it’s special that even our parents — the grandparents — are friends. Lunch dates with Mimi and Grammy included are always filled with lots of laughs, and it’s nice to see that Madelyn and Brielle come from a great line of funny women. Stef and I fully believe that laughter is what keeps us going. Cracking up til your stomach hurts — that’s what motherhood is about.
And today is even more special! It’s Brielle’s birthday!! It blows my mind that Stefanie has a one-year-old. That means that Madelyn’s not far from that big birthday, herself! Each time I see Brielle, she has a new skill, facial expression, and sound. She’s been so fun to watch throughout this year and I’m so glad that she’s Madelyn’s BBFF. Happy birthday, Brielle!!
Seven Months!
Between a drought of creativity and a robot who hacked the back end of this here bloggy-blog, it’s been a quiet few weeks here on BornFriedman. Oops. Madelyn has been keeping us busy and active parents as she seemingly grows eons every day.
On March 9th, she turned 7 months old! Seven months is more than halfway to twelve months, twelve months is a year, a year is basically a toddler, and toddlers quickly turn into kindergartners who go on to college thirteen years later, so yeah, Madelyn is basically a sorority girl already. Sigh. I can’t even handle how fast the time flies. I sound like that old lady in Macy’s who looks into the stroller, sees a baby, makes the tsk-tsk sound of nostalgia as she nods her head and then says to me as if she’s my therapist,”It all just goes so fast.” Yes. It does. Lady is right. There I said it. Now stop telling me, ladies!! Salt. Wound. And all that.
As quickly as it all goes, each stage is my favorite. Just when I think the previous month was as good as it gets, the next months has me all warm and fuzzy, full of beaming love for my kid. I can’t help it. She is pretty awesome.
This month, Madelyn…
Month 7 has a lot of fabulous events to look forward to and it’s going to be so fun living them with her!
Okay. That’s it. Madelyn is definitely the cutest baby in the world. I just love the closeup – and the tush shot. OY!
My Yummy Valentine
Valentine’s Day 2006: Sixty miles away from home, after a fun day at the aquarium, a romantic gondola ride with lots of kisses under bridges through the canals of Long Beach with a perfect Italian dinner in a cute little ristorante, dressed in our best date night threads.
Valentine’s Day 2012: Zero miles away from home, after a long day of work and parenting, a yummy dinner from the condo kitchen, followed by mediocre sugar cookies and “Chopped” on TV, dressed in our best couch couture.
Yeeeeeeeah, I’d say things have changed a lil bit. Yup. This much.
No complaints here! Yes, the era of extravagant outings and making a big deal of Hallmarkidays is over, but I kind of like the cozy concept of enjoying our home, doses of Madelyn, and snuggles with Princeton. Oh, and each other. So, it was only natural that our Valentine’s Day 2012 was low key, but special. All we planned to do was eat a delicious meal created by Bryan. It couldn’t be created by me or it would not have been a delicious meal. And our fire insurance would have to be validated.
Bryan whipped up a peppercorn filet mignon that made me want to fly higher than Bette Midler’s eagle. It was sosososososososo good. My man can cook. And bake. Then he had the audacity to present me with a chocolate souffle. Take that, Bette. And your eagle.
Meanwhile, back in Baking Land, {bee bee bee bee boo boo dooooo} I tried to find my inner Mrs. Fields. Or Sara Lee. Or Betty Crocker. I don’t discriminate against chicks who can bake; I’ll take any one. So, Keyword: Tried. I threw together some sugar cookies, cut them out with my new heart cookie cutters (thanks, Ma!), and then attempted to make royal icing. Confectioner’s sugar and regular sugar is the same thing, right? WRONG. Attempt to make royal icing #2 went better when I used the correct form of sugar and I even got crafty with the gel food coloring. I learned, though, that royal icing basically has PMS all the time and is a temperamental decoration, so I think it’ll take a few more trials and errors until I perfect the right consistency.
My icing didn’t come out as shiny as I would have liked, which was mean because it looked shiny as I was applying it. What a royal tease. Overall, the cookies tasted fine. They just weren’t as purty as I would have liked.
After we shoved dinner and dessert down our throats, we decided to shove ourselves down Madelyn’s throat. She’d been upstairs sleeping (a romantic dinner AND no babysitter?! Score! for having a date night at home!) and, really, what’s Valentine’s Day without our itty bitty Valentine? Our own baby Cupid? But, with no bows and arrows because we’re Jewish and don’t own weapons.
Madelyn joined us, took a visual — VISUAL! — liking to the sugar cookies, and we exchanged some presents. We said we weren’t doing gifts this year because Madelyn was our gift {cheesy “awwww”}, but my rebel husband decided it would be acceptable to surprise me with an a.dor.a.ble and so-Alison, petite heart necklace (thanks, Krystal!). I girl-squealed at that one.
A few weeks ago, Madelyn and I made a ceramic hand and foot print keepsake. It was ready for pick-up only last week, so I held onto it to show Bryan on Valentine’s Day and he adored the finished product of Madelyn’s little prints. We can’t wait to display it in her room to look back on as she grows.
Shortly after our mini gift exchange and before we settled onto the couch for a usual night of iPhones in our laps and eyes on the Food Network, we put Madelyn back to sleep and our little baby Valentine looked so peaceful and beautiful in her crib as she slept, probably dreaming of filet mignon and actually-good royal icing.