wait a minute-- strike that-- reverse it

ah, isn't it funny how the ego interferes in our lives? in my last post, i closed with this "realization":

"teaching him all of it--what to do and what not to do-- from walking to eating to pulling on the cat's tail. no small task. and i am ready."

how quickly i forget what he teaches me. the pure light which we all really desire to achieve is within him. it is within all of us, of course, but the jaded years of cynicism, the difficult lessons, the fear-- they take a toll.

he teaches me to throw my head against the back of the sofa, let out a laugh, smile until my face hurts, give a round of applause. are there any greater lessons to learn?



*a special thanks to karen maezen miller and her blog, cheerio road-- where would i be without you?

my wild thing is ONE

he is ONE. one revolution around the sun.

here is a flickr set of the month by month development of this person, my child....birth to year one. pupa to chrysalis.

i feel like i am at a high point. the only thoughts that creep into the deeper, scary parts are the thoughts of regression. of going backwards after we have come so far. what if something were to happen? if he slips away and this groove upon my torso where he lays becomes just an empty ditch on my body, unfilled, concave?

these thoughts are few and far between. this is a good thing, because they can be paralyzing. more than this, i celebrate the days with him, and the evenings holding him close, rocking him, his eyes getting heavy, putting him down. watching him sleep. walking into his room in the dark mornings to him smiling and bouncing, gripping onto the rail of his crib. ready-- READY-- to face another day and seek more adventure.

teaching him all of it--what to do and what not to do-- from walking to eating to pulling on the cat's tail. no small task. and i am ready.

does anybody really care?

not me, apparently, because i forgot about my own experiment! the first few days, however, i think i did feel like i was giving more thought and consideration to others. at times, though, this morphed into not being entirely honest with my thoughts and feelings, being dismissive of things that really did bother me. is this less than compassionate? i felt a little like i was taken back to catholic sunday school....to the idea of "impure thoughts".

therapy has taught me otherwise: FEEL and SAY what you MEAN. it is ok to BE less than ok with things that are, frankly, not ok.

this is my new creed, however jumbled. i hope it sticks.

livin' the ten in ten

or: "is anybody really out there? does anybody really care?"

so i had this vaguely weird idea of trying to live the ten commandments as i see that they apply to me for ten days. let me backtrack:

while i am not really sure exactly what i believe (i am a seeker), i can say that i am pretty sure that i remain unconvinced that the bible is the one and only true word of God with a capital G. no offense to readers who believe otherwise, but this is my personal belief or lack thereof.

anyhoo, somehow i got the hair-brained idea that while i DO believe that the bible is perhaps inspired by god and divine in the same way that so many other books are divine, i decided to try to embark upon this little experiment. of course, this required brushing up on what the ten commandments ARE (as i am a little rusty). according to different parts of the bible, there may be some requirements that should be pretty easy to live with, such as "You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk." (exodus 34:26). the verses of deuteronomy from which the ten commandments are partially derived are also not doing such a hot job of convincing me that they are not simply a work of, to put it kindly, inspired fiction and without any bearing whatsoever on my life or that of anyone i know.

but faith is the belief in things unseen, so in a nutshell, let's take a look at the challenge set before me (and we'll add in a couple from the qur'an which i think are important and timely):


1) I am the Lord your God-- You shall have no other gods before me-- while i can't say that i believe that there is one true way with 100% certainty, i will do my best to not join any wiccan covens over the next ten days

2) You shall not make for yourself an idol-- this may present a challenge. i think i will need to abstain from reading trashy celebrity crap for the next ten days, which will do me nothing but good, for sure. i will also try not to put those i love and care about up on a pedestal of unreasonable expectations.

3) You shall not make wrongful use of the name of your God-- this will be a challenge for me. maybe it will keep me mindful of...something.

4) Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy-- in this day and age, i read this commandment as honoring one's need to take a break once a week. honor your self with that much.

5) Honor your father and mother-- i fall short with this a lot. patience, patience, patience.

6) You shall not murder-- easy. and remember people-- meat is murder.

7) You shall not commit adultery-- easy, but i will add flirting to the mix (though i don't really flirt much, truth be told). i will also try to limit the number of impure thoughts i have involving don draper from mad men.

8) You shall not steal-- not a problem. i will include sleep from my husband as well as his thunder under this category.

9) You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor-- as in lying?

10) You shall not covet your neighbor's wife/ You shall not covet anything that belongs to your neighbor-- easier said than done in new york. we are very much a culture of have's and have not's.

additionally, from the qur'an:

"And make not Allah's (name) an excuse in your oaths against doing good, or acting rightly, or making peace between persons; for Allah is One Who heareth and knoweth all things."

love this. LOVE IT. this, to me, is truly using the lord's name in vain.

-Be neither miserly nor wasteful in one's expenditure-- very important.
-Keep one's promises
-Do not be arrogant in one's claims or beliefs

so let's see how this goes. ten days of not wishing i was kelly osborne on dancing with the stars (have you checked out her moves?), of not being jealous that people like jenna bush will never have to worry about whether they can make their rent or bills, or send their child to a decent school. ten days of keeping my promises, of keeping my arrogance in check. of eliminating even white lies. of being kind and compassionate to my mom and dad.

let's see what we're up against.

good reads

i am on a reading kick. first anne lamott's operating instructions, which blew my head off, and now the mother trip by ariel gore.

ladies, where have you been all my life, or at least for the last ten months of it? in fairness, my sweet beezie sent me both of these pre-max, but as i said before in a lame attempt at an excuse, i have been a little preoccupied reading up on the sleep books, the development books, and the occasional bad mystery/thriller/courtroom drama fluff thrown in for the sake of escapism (i'm looking at you, jodi picoult) .

but oh, ariel gore. you SPEAK to me. i mean, the first page of the book contains this quote (and only this quote) smack dab in the middle:

"One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star."
-FRIEDRICH NIETZSCHE, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

i know that ariel is the voice of the new mamas, the old mamas, the mamas who are finally standing up and saying, "this is crazy."

but really, a dancing star? who is more a dancing star if not master maximillian wolfeinelli? this i ask you.

oh ladies, thank you for coming into my life. anne and ariel and each and every one of you.

grammy in the house

my mom left today. she hopped on her grammy plane and into her little grammy car back to her grammy house.

i am looking around this place that i really do love, how despite the stained mauve 80's carpet, the wood paneled hallway (and not wood paneled in a kitschy, cool 70's way--wood paneled in the same old awful, cheap, dark way), the spots of peeling paint on the ceiling-- despite these flaws, she shines, this old place. it makes me feel like the grinch from the grinch who stole christmas, as i squint my eyes, give them a rub, and peer in to take a closer look:

she came and she scrubbed-- the toilet, the tiles!
she cleaned out the cabinets, the sinks, the files!

she swept and she mopped, washed dishes, made beds!
she held crying babies, walked dogs, kept us fed!

she took us to dinner! she scooped up the litter!
she stocked up our fridge! she dusted! she swiffered!

but seriously, y'all, my mom ironed my comfy pants.

who does this?
love is an action.

more will be revealed...

cryptic title, isn't it?

i have decided to adopt this way of thinking, give it a good home in my psyche. pre-max, my sister gave me a copy of anne lamott's operating instructions, which between sleep books and preggo books and no-need-to-panic-and-call-the-doctor type books i hadn't gotten around to reading.

silly me.

of course, it would have pretty much rendered this blog obsolete, because sweet annie says in her hilarious and infectious voice everything i have been feeling over this last year, but much more eloquently. one of her yummy morsels of wisdom comes from her AA friends (the author is a former addict herself), who remind her that "more will be revealed". how true these words are in the context of, well, everything, but especially so when one is dealing with addiction and loved ones.

what are lies? what is the truth? my husband has spent so much of the last twelve months or so trying to sift through all of this-- trying to catch her in her lies, to trap the rat and make it speak the truth. and in time, over and over again, more is revealed....more ends tied up so that confusing behavior, requests for money, excuses, failures, crises, twisted blame-- all are revealed and more will be to come.

my poor husband. how much he gives and gives until he just can't take care of this phantom whisper of a real person any more. yet he forgives and he tries again. and again.

max is turning one in less than a month. i can't believe it. i mostly can't believe that i am sitting here thinking, "where has the time gone?" when the days i have spent have at times felt like a small eternity. yet this little larvae of a person is crawling around me at the speed of light, laughing until he can hardly breathe, taking it all in and then some. my sister told me once that you can't expect it to be easy, having your heart running around outside of your body.

september song

it's a rainy september 12 and it was a rainy september 11. fitting-- i always feel funny when september 11 is a beautiful day in new york.

max is a little man of many teeth (five and counting), a crawler, a drummer, a smiler, a hugger, a CLIMBER. we are starting to deal with the heart-wrenching and all too frequent occurrences of head bumps, falls, and overall dangerous behavior (like standing in the tub, slipping, and busting tiny rosebud lips on ceramic soap holders). yet he soldiers on and lives to explore another day.

i am learning as he learns. it is my job to teach him everything. i am learning that i need to let go. that a great mom is a flexible mom, and that i have no choice to be otherwise if i want to be happy. i am learning that love does not always equal happiness, and that is ok. love can equal loneliness and isolation, but you love those little ones so much that you just do it. you do it all anyway and somehow it just makes sense.


(my boys swimmin' this summer:)

i never knew love like this before...

despite the positive title, this is not an easy post to make. the wolfeinellis are wading through a lot of muck these days, and while so many areas of our lives have improved DRASTICALLY (like, where we live, for example: our biggest issue is having to talk with the older people on our block when we;'re in a hurry), other things have unfortunately taken some pretty sad turns.

brian's dad suffered three ruptured brain aneurysms, and while he is (thankfully) recovering, it has been quite the ordeal for the wolfe's. this ordeal has been piggybacked by ANOTHER ordeal, which for the sake of privacy i don't feel comfortable elaborating on. i will say that addiction is a selfish beeyatch. it destroys, it lies, and it keeps coming back for more. it is trying to pick away at my husband. to occupy his thoughts, to constantly fill his head with lies, to exhaust him, to deplete his resources. it is so sad. so very sad. it is really hurting the wolfeinellis, and i really fear that we don't have the resources to deal with it.

however, we are dealing with it so far. we are trying to do our best most of the time. i am failing at that some of the time....i think it is easier for me to step away and try to encircle my family, shield them. i can't hide my anger when i feel unable to do this successfully.

max is almost ten months. he is a light. he has four teeth with more on the way. he clings to me when i pick him up, and gives me little pats on the shoulder as if to say, "it's alright mama. breathe. i love you." he is the happiest baby on the block. he wakes up and (usually) goes to bed with a smile on his face. he snuggles up to me in the morning and nurses, i think more for my sake than for his. he has thigh chub. his eyes are a kaleidoscope of greens, coppers, grays. he has more exuberance, joy, and life force than any being i can ever recall knowing or sharing in their company.

day one

just got back from my annual beach trip, and i have been so inspired by my ladies that operation baby fat is in effect. for three weeks i am going to:
-cut out sugar
-cut out processed crap
-reduce carbs (esp after 3 pm--i was going to cut them out entirely after 3 pm, but i am concerned about milk supply issues)
-increase water
-control portions
-exercise hardcore 5 times a week

the idea is that this will become a habit. today was day one. exercised very strenuously at mccarren park and almost bit the dust. plus, i think i am detoxifying from my sins of overindulgence at the beach, so i have been a little headachy. still, it's the Right Thing To Do no matter how crappy my out of shape butt feels at the moment. i am really tired of looking and feeling schlumpy. plus, i need to take advantage of the tail-end of my breast feeding metabolic boost!

in max news, the boy is waving. it is just the cutest thing. he looks like his tiny little hand is milking a cow, and it cracks me up. i missed him on my first trip without baby, but not so much that i didn't have a fantastic time. so glad we have reached this point-- i never thought we would. beaching it with the girls always feels a bit like a new year to me, with resolutions and a sense of renewal and possibility. puts me in the mind of the zombies song:

"this will be our year
took a long time to come."

two chest pats and a fist extended to katherine. you're my girl. xo

learning

the professional implanted this nugget into my seeping brain last week, and i hope it's there to stay.

judgement.

when we judge, we tend to cut others very little slack, yet we give ourselves a lot more leeway for similar transgressions (or so sayeth the professional).

he's right, of course.

how i hold on. and on. and on. i hold a grudge with the best of them, and i am not really sure where it gets me. does it ensure that i will not be hurt again? of course not. and even if it did, would it be worth the energy that it takes to keep track?

how many times have i had a slip of the tongue, inserted foot into mouth, or just been plain old mean? how many times have i blamed it on low blood sugar pms exhaustion anger annoyance hurt feelings (and hurting back) stress hormones lack of sleep

you name it.

so i move on, forgiving myself and knowing that "i didn't mean it".

i need to be this way with the other people in my life. we are none of us perfect and i really do wonder where my impossible standards come from?

california dreamin'

it is simply PATHETIC, my lack of blogging. it feels like so much has happened over the last month! most importantly, i have found my self again. just typing that sentence gave me pause: am i being all "bad mama" by saying that something about ME is "most important"? no. this-- my state of being-- is important. it is critical. i am no good to max or anyone else for that matter if i am all scrambled up in my own head.

we are in L.A, right now, as bdub is playing drums for mandy moore on the tonight show this evening. yes--mandy moore, the pop princess of the britney/x-tina/jessica simpson class of the late nineties. mandy is, of course, all grown up and trying to go in a new direction and all that jazz, but it sounds silly and defensive to even write that so i will just let it be what it is: a pop thing. with a really nice girl. on national tv. an american institution. tonight!

i am so proud of my bdub. he works tirelessly on his craft, and this marks a big milestone for him.

too much other stuff to catch up on in one post: we moved (goodbye, 92 hawthorne!), the boy is eating solids with gusto, and life is good. pictures to come.

it's a new dawn, a new day, a new life for me...

...and i'm feeling....good?

yeah. maybe i am. it's about f@&#ing time.

my boy is six months old. whatta guy. here is a brief list of his likes and dislikes:

max morgan wolfe likes:
cuddles
being "surprised" (with a "boo!" or rolling one's "r"'s, or "motorboating")
the biscuit
bouncing
sucking face (literally)
music
beats
infant tylenol
putting anything and everything in his mouth


dislikes:
teething
bedtime
the inability to control his own body temperature (thus, his latest nickname "sweaty head")

and that's about it as far as the "dislikes" go. this guy is happy as a clam 99.9% of the time.

lucky, lucky, LUCKY me. for reals. and i will stop now thus i nauseate the reader with my crushing, sloppy, sickly sweet love for this little person.

five something months

and i still don't recognize this person. not max-- max is max, an adorable creature who is wholly himself, replete with his own distinct giggle, voice, dimples, and tiny little fingernails that can pinch and scratch the living hell out of you.

i am talking about me. i don't know where i got the idea that growing a whole other person would not leave any physical, mental, or emotional scars. i look at my doughy belly, my saggy boobs spouting off (and i used to really love my boobs. really), and i don't recognize myself. i don't know why i thought something magical would happen to me at six weeks out, three months out...like i would be able to have sex and exercise all the time, and therefore would turn into some work-out crazed body-building nympho with a never-ending supply of energy (and milk, for that matter).

it's frustrating. not even so much to me, as to the people around me, i'm sure. like bdub. i find us in this cycle of bad day--then good day--then rolling with the "good day" which turns into, "so now that you're feeling better, let's go do something completely anxiety-producing to 'get you out there'"--which turns into "i feel pushed"--must retreat--i wish i didn't have to retreat--i feel bad about that--bad day...you get the idea (i hope).

i feel like i don't have any reserves left...of patience, of emotional stability, of sleep. i am tapped out, and i am afraid that anyone except for those who are the absolute closest people to me do not understand this. after all, it's been five months, and so what the hell is my problem, anyway?

much love to ya

how do i love thee?

my bdub
-do you know what it does to a woman to anticipate a greasy, sticky, enchilada-y mess in the kitchen, only to walk in there and find the dishes done, the stove wiped, the ingredients put away and the pan soaking in soapy water? you rule.
-thank you for being patient with my neuroses. and for being so kind to me, even when i don't deserve it.
-you rule for being forthright with the Professional. i appreciate that you are 100% committed to us.
-the late night/early morning feeding. have i mentioned that you rule?
-you are so cute when you come to work with max.
-you are so good with everything you do with the boy, for that matter.
-thank you for working hard to take care of us (even the poopy work).
-thanks for cracking me up on a daily basis, several times a day.

my boy
-i love you: your milky smiles and gummy grins, your tiny hand clutching me, your coos... irresistible.
-how did i get such a good sleeper?
-thank you for minimally fussing. really.
-you are so much fun! thanks for proving to me that this does just get better and better.

lil' hug

isn't it amazing how the tiniest detail can spark a memory?

i was strolling with max during yesterday's unseasonably gorgeous afternoon, when i spied an empty little hug container on the ground (i have recently found out that these are also referred to as "quarter water" in some parts. these were never more that a dime when i was little....i am old).

i was immediately reminded of trips to the grocery store with my dad, and the bribes he would use to get me to go: little hugs. i got a little hug upon completion of our trip (either to Kroger or Super Cheap, the other grocery store in our part of morgantown at the time). it occurred to my 35 year old self that despite years of believing that my dad really, really wanted my company (sometimes he would practically BEG me to go with him)....perhaps he was just getting me out of my mom's hair for a while? after all, i am one of five.

so i sent him this email:

subject:
quick question

hi dad,
something occurred to me today that i had to ask you about:

when i was little and you used to bribe me with a little hug (remember those?) to go to the grocery store with you, was it because you really wanted the company or because you wanted to do mom and favor and give her a break?

it's ok if it's the latter, of course, because i always only thought the former and never suspected otherwise until today. i guess that is what being a parent does to you. :)

so anyway, job well done (but please do answer me honestly).

xo
nowlzie

and here is my dad's reply:

Interesting question, Noe. It was a little of both, but mainly because I wanted you to tag along. As I recall the bribe sometimes went beyond a hug to a candy bar.
Thanks for the wonderful memories. It made me misty.
dad

favorite things: new mama edition

in the same vein as last year's favorite things post (ala oprah), i give you the new mama edition! these are a few of my favorite things which i could not have lived without during the first few months of new motherhood, many of which i never would have suspected would become so indispensable.

the happiest baby on the block dvd (harvey karp)



ah yes, the five s's: swaddle, side, suck, swing, shhh. it's hard to know what to do as a new parent of a screaming babe! at the first viewing of this dvd, bdub started to cry. he felt so empowered. best of all, the techniques work! i think an amazing baby gift would be a copy of this dvd, a swaddle blanket (see next item) and a couple of pacifiers (see item after next).


the miracle blanket



organic cotton. no snaps, pins, velcro, nothing. simply the best (though i also really like the stretchy swaddle blankets, too). as an aside, doesn't the baby in the above photo look just like max?


soothies pacifiers



accept no imitations. these do tend to take some getting used to, appearance-wise. since you can see into the baby's little mouth, bdub claims that they kind of look like something out of a marilyn manson video when in use.


sophie the giraffe




the french classic. here is what ecobabygear.com has to say about sophie:

"Sophie the Giraffe, full of discoveries and activities to awaken baby’s senses!

Sight: The dark and contrasting spots all over Sophie the Giraffe’s body provide visual stimulation and make her easily recognizable to baby. She soon becomes a familiar and reassuring objet.

Hearing: Her squeaker keeps baby amused, stimulates his hearings, and helps him to understand the link between cause and effect.

Taste: Sophie the Giraffe is very flexible and has lots of parts for baby to chew (ears, horns, legs). She is perfect for soothing baby’s sore gums when teething and is completely safe. Made of 100% natural rubber and food paint.

Touch: Sophie the Giraffe is perfect for baby’s small hands. She is very light and her long legs and neck are easy for baby to grip. She is very soft to touch, just like baby’s mummy, stimulating soothing physiological and emotional responses.

Smell: The singular scent of natural rubber (from Hevea tree) makes Sophie the Giraffe very special and easy for your child to identify amid all his other toys. "


cotton zip up pajamas



so great when it's the 3 am diaper change and you don't have to fasten a million snaps. surprisingly hard to find, especially in cotton (we avoid fleece; as our friend mags warned, "nowlze, it's a pressure cooker.")


jj cole pacifier pod



such a simple thing: a little purse for your pacifiers! just the right size to hold two. keeps 'em clean and velcro's to any bag.


clip-on mobile



this has also been a lifesaver. clips to the shelves that hang over the changing table for diaper changing distraction. clips to the side of the crib, to the car seat, to wherever! max loves this thing and rarely fusses when he has his diaper changed.


mustela products



i got tons of this stuff as shower gifts, and i will use every last drop of it all. the foam shampoo for cradle cap is fantastic. the diaper cream is super-concentrated, and the lotion is heavenly. the entire line smells incredible: light, yet blends well with that perfect, natural baby head smell.


bebe au lait nursing cover



i resisted buying this for a long time. i mean, i should be able to nurse wherever, whenever, right?! other peoples' comfort be damned! that may be all well and good in theory, but there are certain times and places where popping out my 40 DD's (yes, that's what i am rockin' these days, lord help me) is less than ideal. like in therapy. or when i go to hear bdub play at church. church and boobs just don't mix. the bebe au lait is a necessary evil, and i am always happy to have it when i need it.


american apparel hoodies and onesies



finding plain, unadultered clothing in solid colors is nearly impossible. thank god for american apparel. great colors, nice cotton, sweatshop-free. plus, max and his dad can match! cute!


diapers.com



several friends recommended diapers.com to me, and young grasshopper that i am, i have passed on the rec. to other new moms. diapers.com rules. they have free shipping over $49, their diapers arrive in two days or less, and they are WAY cheaper than anywhere else. they don't just sell diapers, either. they sell EVERYTHING. in fact, i'd bet you could probably find every item of my favorite things on that website! you also get credit when you recommend people, so if any of you dear readers decide to order from them, tell 'em nowlze sent you.

THIS is it

finally, i can put into words what it is i am missing....the missing piece that has been plaguing me, even as i emerge lil' bit by lil' bit from my fragile bluebird-like shell.

i miss being carefree. even in my pre-babe bleak days of depression, i still was never a worrier. maybe i was ho-hum, but i was still ho-hum on the fancy-free side of things, if that makes any sense. i guess what i am trying to say is that my dreary days were more "fuck it" than "omg, i am totally worried about the state of things and therefore depressed".

but here i am, worried about the state of things. aside from a constant, nagging worry that i may be screwing up a fresh as snow little person who is thus far perfection, i am finding myself to be worried about the other stuff: the small stuff and the big stuff. regretting decisions made. wishing i had behaved differently. rationalizing. tangentializing (if that's even a word...). wishing away feelings, wishing away parts of my self. swamped with anxiety (ok...so maybe not swamped for the most part any more. but more often than not, feeling a little too overwhelmed to truly enjoy the moment).

and even when i am less-than-worried, i still can't seem to get a grip enough to be that carefree girl. and i loved that girl. i loved holding hands in the city, popping into this store or that cafe, hopping on and off of the train, not a care in the world. i long to be that girl again, with stroller and babe in tow this time, but i can't seem to get a foothold on that feeling again. what's missing? why is everything a minefield? an obstacle? something not to be dealt with (because i feel, maybe, that if i have to "deal" with one more thing i will just lose it, for real)?

what is the cure for this? time? i ask the mamas out there: do you ever feel truly carefree?

small victory II

the zen buddhists believe (or so i have been told) that one cannot multitask; that multitasking is, in effect, just trying to do several things at once and not giving your full attention to any of them...thus, doing them all badly. i tend to agree.

however, this morning i was forced to let out the biscuit and take care of baby simultaneously. baby who skipped his mid-morning nap. uncomfortable baby, red-faced crying baby who for some reason i chose to dress in a sweater vest and cords, complete with belt (??).

step one was to stick crying baby in crib, slip on my boots, and fetch the biscuit, who was collared and leashed. red-faced baby was changed out of ridiculous get-up and slung to mama in his pouch. i tried several futile attempts to select an item of outerwear that would be able to zip over both myself and the pouch of slung baby, but to no avail. i then unslung screaming babe, stuck a hoodie on him as gingerly as i could, re-slung baby, grabbed the essentials (umbrella, keys, cell phone) and headed out the door.

the biscuit skipped through the slushy puddles, the baby hushed himself, and all seemed right with the world. that is, until the biscuit had to go #2. i let him into our mess of a front yard (his pooping domain), where he walked around quite a bit before finding a suitable spot. and then, one of the worst possible scenarios occurred: the biscuit had a hanger-on. (how can i put this delicately? sometimes the biscuit ingests too many of my stray hairs--by accident, of course-- and tends to have some poops that literally hang on by a thread). by the grace of god, i had a plastic bag in my pocket.

the boy and i entered the yard, nearly slipped several times, and bent down to break the biscuit free of his hairy predicament. baby clung closely to me, closer than the hairs clung to the biscuit: i set him free and once again, all is well in wolfeinelli land. i am considering penning a letter to the makers of the kangaroo korner adjustable fleece pouch, letting them know how well their product performed under the pressure of these adverse conditions.

small victories

first of all, how awesome is our new president? i am so inspired.

more personally speaking, i found the following blog-worthy: the other day, i ate pasta (fettucini, to be exact, which requires twirling) with my non-dominant hand. while breast feeding. i spilled not a drop on maximillian. now that's progress in my book.

here is max, obamacized:

we've got giggles, people