Fat Tuesday.

Marco did a trial run at daycare today for a half day while I cashed in my Mother's Day gift - massage and facial! Marco partied at daycare for about five hours and enjoyed TWELVE OUNCES of his soy cocktail. What what?

The ladies were very sweet with him and he loved all the attention. There are eight kids (seven of them boys!) and when I got there, one of the boys delivered my bag from Marco's cubby. They are a very sweet group and we're very happy with our decision. Oh, and we're taking donations via PayPal. Next month, another boy starts who is the same age as Marco. Guess what his name is.... Marcos! HA!

I thought I was living the life at the spa, but it was Marco who was rocking the all-you-can-eat buffet. Next stop, chubby baby.Cue my family: Is it just me or does he look like Nick when he was a baby here?

Have yourself a very merry Mother's Day.

Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers. We've had a great day. My Valentine's Day was so special (Marco and Jeff brought me breakfast in bed) I didn't think it could get better... but then Jeff and Marco brought me homemade bread and breakfast in bed! Yes, Jeff is at it again and his bread was perfect this time, perfect consistency and perfect salt. Yummers.

Marco sported this fabu "MOM" shirt today. (Thanks Julia and Jackson!) I mean, really, could you die? Check out his chubby thighs! ha. I just can't believe how big he's gotten in the past couple weeks.

Saturday, we hosted Grammy Pammy and Gr-Grandma Alice for a luncheon. Jeff made dim sum and I made a thai chicken salad, but we couldn't find the camera, so you'll never know what the dumplings and egg rolls looked like.

Sunday we headed to San Francisco to see G-ma Cecchin and the cousins. Tim and Sara hosted a delicious brunch and I didn't want to make them feel bad so I had seconds. Mmmmmm... after all, it was my special day.

Marco on bongo drums. Meredith insisted that Marco play the guitar in our fantasy Partridge family band and that Tommy stay on drums. She even went so far as to call Tommy "Ringo."

Jeff and Marco got me a spa treatment, so Marco will check out daycare for a half day this week before I head back to work.
Jeff and Marco enjoy the afternoon sun on our deck.

And speaking of our deck... here's the "before" picture of our backyard. I'm hoping to post an "after" pic in approximately two years. Stay tuned.
Cheers you mothers! It was a great day and I'm glad to be part of the gang.

Disaster Strikes.

A couple mornings ago, Jeff had to work early, so much to my dismay, when Marco and I awoke, there was no coffee ready. WHAT? I don my robe and head downstairs to make my own coffee, when (gasp!) I open the cabinet and there's NO COFFEE AT ALL. WHAT, again I say?

So, I got dressed and we walked down to Starbucks. I assure you there's nothing that wakes you up like a half a mile walk to get coffee. Marco loved it staying awake and talking the whole way there and napping on the way back. He often opts to roll directly in the stroller now, not using the car seat attachment.

While we were down there, we ran a couple other errands. If Marco told you that among those errands, there was a custard-filled chocolate bar, he just doesn't understand grown up things.

People stop me on the street now or in line at Starbucks to show me pictures of their kids. I'm still up in the air, but now that I have a kid, should I care about pictures of stranger's kids? Please let me know so that I can behave accordingly.

In Trader Joe's a woman stopped to ask me how old he was, "Three and a half months!" Cooing to him, she says, "And obviously he's a boy..." and I think she's going to say something about his adorable blue pajamas (no coffee, no clothes) and she finishes "...with that big square head..."

I'm sorry, WHAT? &*$%!

I do not think so! Who lets these people talk? It's like people that ask you when you're due when you're not pregnant. Or the people who ask how old he is when "he" is wearing a pink dress. I was about to insult her back - and trust me I had plenty of material - when she made it a little better, "And what gorgeous blue eyes and a handsome smile." Lucky woman. Marco nearly witnessed his first street brawl.

Good walk, good times. Here he is looking very chubby and grown up in his stroller, although not on the actual walk in question.

Tick tick tick. Five more days before I'm back to work! I can't wait! Funny how you can't read sarcasm.

Soy Boy.

This week's task was trying soy formula. You want the good news or the bad news first?

Well, the bad news is that Marco has QUITE the discerning palate and does not like the taste of soy. He scrunches up his nose, turns his head and basically lets it fall out of his mouth. And really, who can blame him? It's horrible, no matter what they say. And it smells. Like, really badly. Like fish oil. And the only time I have fish oil is when it's masked by a million other chinese ingredients inside an egg roll and chased by a Tsing Tao.

But I digress, onto the good news. Yesterday we tricked him into taking an ounce by masking it with three ounces of Marco Milk. It stayed down. Wahoo! So, we are calling him "milk intolerent" for now. More on what that means after our doctor's appointment in two weeks. Today, we went half and half soy formula and Marco Milk and although he did nose scrunching and milk spitting, he skeptically succumbed to the force feeding and all is well.

My son is an Oakland-living, hippie-dippy soy boy who rocks fire engine pajamas. Go Marco.

Oh yes, it's Grammy night, oh what a night.

No, not the statuette, the grandmother. Marco spent the evening with Grammy Pammy Friday and Jeff and I had a double date with the Woods! We met Gina and Patrick for a laughter-filled evening. We had cocktails (mojito) and appetizers (crispy zucchini) amounting to a fab adult dinner out.


Although Marco sports skepticism here, you're just going to have to trust that he liked staying with Grammy. He was an angel according to my mother (phewf), drank his milk, passed out some smiles to his fans and hit the sack.

Accomplishments:
White pants
An actual purse (no diapers or pacifiers)
Dinner and drinks in dark swanky restaurant

Us:Them:And Marco wakes up in the Moses basket (thanks Jack!) at Grammy's all smiles. He loves waking up. And he doesn't even drink espresso. Weird.Thanks Grammy! Thanks Gina and Patrick! I guess I should thank the Woods' babysitter too. Thanks Lynn!