Posts from — March 2009

Noah: Hey Ro, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you about.

Rosie: Hang on, I’m having a moment with The Hand.

Rosie: Dude, hands blow my MIND.  Anyway, what’s on your mind Big Bro?

Noah:  Well, you know how you were just born and everything and how now you’re my little sister and I’m your big brother?

Rosie: Yeah?

Noah: (whispering) Well, that’s how it’s gonna be.  For always.  Did you know that?

Rosie: For always?  You’ll be my Big Bro for always?

Noah:  Yep.  You’ve got me and I’ve got you. Always and forever.  To infinity.  Now look at the camera – She’s taking our picture. AGAIN.

Rosie: What’s a camera?

This here is what happens when your baby is not sleeping and spends that not-sleeping time in a general state of loud-mouthed malcontent.  The blog becomes a vlog.  On the downside, it means that I am pretty much copping out when it comes to content, but on the upside, CUTE CUTE BABY OMG NOM NOM.

I realize that this clip veers this blog mightily close towards becoming one of those sites where there are copious hours of footage of a baby clapping/walking/farting/existing with titles like “MY POOKIE POO DOING THE CUTEST THING YOU’VE EVER SEEN!!!!1!!!!!!”  But you GUYS.  It’s totally different than that.  Completely.  You’ll see.

Also – remember back in the day before they shortened “America’s Funniest Home Videos” to “AFV” when it was a show you might actually watch in prime time every once in a while if you’d finished your homework and you just kept thinking to yourself, “Man, this show could be kind of funny if it weren’t for that dumbass Bob Saget and his godawful jabbering commentary”?

Yeah.  This is kind of like that.  Advance apologies.

Rattle champ from racher on Vimeo.

We are facing that age-old Phantom Menace of Babydom: Gettin’ Teef.  Rosie has been somewhat frantical these days shoving whatever she can get her mitts on into her mouth to soothe the ache of the slow and sharp shift of enamel up her gums.  And the drool, oh the DROOL.  Rivers and tributaries and streams of droooooool.  I am considering wearing a preventative poncho when holding her.  I’m only sort of kidding.  Also, there’s the Not Sleeping, which right now is making me feel sort of like I’ve been taken out at the knees with a crowbar.  Just this morning in the shower I attempted a nice deep clean of my face with a slather of conditioner.  On the bright side, now my pores are tangle free!

But poor little poopster, she can’t really do anything to help it feel better, and I know it’s uncomfortable and kind of ever present.  And I’ve been dosing her up with Tylenol every once in a while and offering a frozen teething ring, but then I got to feeling like I could do more than that, you know?  Take it to the next level.  Get creative with the homeopathics.  And what would work better as a nice salve than a little Indigo Girls?  So off to the CD release concert we went.

Waiting for the show (also, remember this picture?  Holy cow, deja vu.):

The Girls, up close and personal:

Rosie experiences (live) IG sound for the first time:

Whoa.  I dig this sound, Mom.

And of course, a sing along.  I didn’t capture it, but Rosie did add her own vocals, as she is wont to do.  Also, notice my zoom in on my friend Jill, whose idea the concert was in the first place, as she is somewhat of an Indigo Girls stalker:

Indigo Girls Live from racher on Vimeo.

Teeth pain ain’t got nothing on good times like these.

Here it is, the highly awaited Oscar-buzzed film of 2009.  I really do love to milk a good accomplishment. And you’ll notice here that “good accomplishment” means “finishing the race on par with half an elementary school and a small yappy dog.”

(I TOTALLY SAW THAT DOG WALK.)

I would also like to remind everyone that this is a big deal to me not just because I’ve never run this far ever, but also because five months ago, I looked like this.  That girl deserves a music video, am I right?

Note: You may also notice some shots of Noah “warming up” for and running his own personal race, the Tot Trot. Though not captured, it should be reported that halfway across the field he bit the dirt. Hard.  We held our breath, hands to our mouths braced for the devastation, but that kid stood right back up and crossed the finish line at full speed.  Later he said, “I fell down.  But I was one of the fastest ones!” That moment? Almost better than all the rest of the race day combined.

The Big Race from racher on Vimeo.

I can’t not post the night before The Big Race, seeing as how it is one of the main things that has kept me away from the computer this week.  Any and all free time I had was devoted to pounding the pavement in the Desperate Attempt Not To Look Like An Ass On Race Day.  As it stands, I have run the equivalent of a 5K twice, both times walking the length of three mailboxes about half a mile from the finish.  You know, because there was this long hill, it was hot, I had a rock in my shoe, my lungs were milliseconds from exploding, blah blah WHATEVER.  Regardless: I call success!

So I’m pumped for tomorrow AM (and by “pumped” I mean FREAKED THE HELL OUT) and am trying to figure out a way not to look all geeky and nervous before a race that some people will just be out to jog in 20 minutes like it’s No Big Deal.  My neighbor, who does these godawful things called “Triathalons” (and sidenote, I’m pretty sure if I died right this second and was seen to be Unfit at the gates of Heaven, St. Peter would point the other direction and say “There’s your bike, the swimming portion is 1 million miles that way.  Have a nice afterlife!”) made some comment the other day about how 5Ks were so casual and no biggie, and I know that’s true when you’ve done one before, but man, for me this is like jumping off the high dive for the very first time.  I’m about to climb that ladder and leap off into space and my stomach, she is abutterflyin’.

I think the main reason I feel like this is because one, I really want to RUN the whole thing, and I am anxious to see if this happens, and two, people are going to witness my Old Man Jog.  Two words about that: Not. Pretty.

Even so, there will be documentation of the momentous occasion that will most surely be set to music for maximum effect.   Unless I am carried off on a stretcher.  Then I’ll probably skip the soundtrack.

Right.  If I’m carried off on a stretcher, you know there will be a FULL ORCHESTRAL SCORE backing that action up.

Cue Chariots of Fire!

*Note: race starts at 9:15 EDT, if you are into good vibe sending.