It's that creepy time of year...

Our apartment is haunted...and the ghost has an uncanny resemblance to Allie.


Holga prints have been back for a while, I've just been too busy/lazy (take your pick) to scan them in. Thank goodness I work in the art department and have access to a film scanner. Unfortunately, it's putting a light line about a quarter of the way up on each of my pictures. Phooey.

Queen of Hearts

I was going to save this for next { Fresh Photo Friday }, but I just can't. Plus Grandma is a whiner and complained about last Friday not starring Hudson.

Valerie is Hudson's favorite gal. That's perfectly okay with me, and I totally understand--Val is everyone else's favorite too. For serious.

Our modest, three-bedroom apartment can now be referred to as the palace, castle, whatever royal residence you choose, just make sure you bow before entering. Introducing, University of Noneofyourbusiness Homecoming Queen 2008:

Okay, okay, that's Huddy. And he couldn't be more delighted to serve his peeps.

But really, here she is, her royal highness (she's going to kill me if she reads this), Valerie!

That's right, Hudson and I are super high-rollers, ballers, whatever you wanna call us. We live with the real, live Miss MyUniversity 2008. You might say I like to surround myself with royalty--Hudson's dad was a former homecoming king and Phil from my C.A. staff last year was last year's king. Can anyone say good luck charm?

Your friends are going to think you're the shit when you're a teenager, Hudson. Just look at you:

This is how you spend your evenings. The Queen gets on the floor for your amusement. And it's only appropriate that the Top Female Pilot aka Allie (who received three trophies in last week's competition) controls your aeronautical movements. Can anyone say, your mom's the underachiever of the apartment?

More photographic evidence to show off to your high school buddies:

Sorry, had to throw that one in again.

{ Fresh Photo Friday }

Hudson got a new blankie off that wonderful thing called etsy. It's vintage-fabulous and came from Hawaii. It coordinates perfectly with his other blankie.

Don't you love how different colors can be in photos? The second picture is a more accurate representation. I'm thinking these will be the colors of his future room. You know, when he gets fed up with me and tells me we can't share a room anymore.

New neighbors

So the boys next door love to leave their trash outside on their porch. You know who also loves it?

The raccoons.

With Hudson sleeping soundly in his crib, I thought I could quickly sneak out of the apartment to check the mail, which has been neglected for three or so days. However, I opened the door and was greeted by a very guilty looking, masked fuzzball next to an overturned garbage bag. Since I was eager to go get the mail, I decided to be brave and take a few steps forward. The coon must have thought I was either coming over to make friends or to steal his loot because he also was feeling brave and meandered down the steps toward me.

As I'm not so trusting of these clever scavengers, nor am I completely familiar with their propensity to be agressive, I hightailed it back inside. I peeked out a couple more times to see if he had gotten the hint that he wasn't welcome, only to find an additional raccoon at the site each time I opened my door. And closer.

I'm going to stop opening the door before I overpopulate the neighborhood...and our deck, for that matter. A group of raccoons is called a nursery, in case you were wondering. I do feel much safer knowing that we have a nursery of guard coons.

This might explain the two empty water bottles I found on our doorstep yesterday. Turns out they know where to take the recyclables.

Trash-sorting guard coons. I like it. Now if I could only teach them to retrieve mail...

Hot Baby

Hudson had to come home from daycare today--poor boy had a temp of 100.7. When the daycare center director called I thought she said 107. Needless to say, that was a heart attack that didn't need to happen. I told her to articulate better.
I'm not sure what the deal is, however. He seems fine: happy, smiley and a little bit more cuddley. Another new toother, perhaps?

I had to miss one of my classes to take a nap with him and shower him with TLC. I'll have to miss work tomorrow since he has to be out for 24 hours after a fever. This is my first official experience with a sick baby. Thank goodness he's not really sick as far as I can tell.

Nevertheless, keep Huddy Buddy in your thoughts. He'd sure appreciate it.

{ Musical Monday }

Don't tell me this doesn't make you want to get up and shake your rump. It seems like this plays on a local station every day after class and totally destresses me.
Enjoy:

State of the Domain

I don't know which pregnancy hormone it was that turned me into a crazed, domestic fanatic, but nowadays I'm spending my time day (and night) dreaming about my future domicile. Every now and again I get a beyond brilliant idea about something cool for my home/apartment next year and type it into my phone for permanent keeping, lest my idea magically pop out of my head as quick as it popped in.

I think this is a syndrome--kind of like how some girls have their weddings all planned out in their heads at the age of 11. I, however, am still determined that I'm not the marrying type and don't want anyone coming in and disturbing my domestic bliss. I like the glassware I have picked out in my head and certainly am not going to compromise for anyone. I have a great wedding invitation idea, but it's mainly just so I can frame it and use it as wall art for my house later. See the depth of my insanity?

I would share my list of fabulous ideas with you by simply copying and pasting it from my Treo, but I'm worried that one of you three readers out there (or Better Homes and Gardens, for that matter) will steal my ideas and in effect make them null and void. I operate off a platform of oddity and unique-ness, dontcha know.

Etsy.com is not helping this affliction whatsoever. You can find absolutely anything you desire to purchase there in fantastic handmade quality. Because it's really, truly handmade, it's likely to be one-of-a-kind. And if you can't find exactly what you're looking for, you can get anyone, anywhere in the world to make it for you.
(What am I doing? This isn't an ad for etsy. End etsy pitch.)

Anyhoo, although I aspire to be completely unaffected by consumerist wants and desires one day, I figure that this is the time in one's life that it is okay to consume. I have to get pots and pans and stuff in order to live, people!
As you can see, I have tremendous eco-guilt. Buying nonessential, mass-produced junk is killing the earth and it's hard not to be a part of it. The obsessing over design choices is also heavily influenced by my obsession with earth-friendliness.
Teflon frying pans or cast iron? (cast iron) Conventional cotton bath towel or a bamboo blend? (bamboo blend, duh) Carpet or hardwood? (hardwood) Ack!!

I'm eight months out from having to find another place for Hudson and I to live and have numerous other things to think about and do with my time. I'm completely convinced that this preoccupation with the home is another quirk of motherhood. Where was this in What to Expect...? I must have missed the chapter titled, "You Thought Nesting was Bad?: Losing Your Damn Mind to Thoughts of Window Coverings and China Patterns Post-Pregnancy."

Fellow moms, don't you even think about writing in the comment box that you aren't this crazy with thoughts of throwing the last 60+ years of feminist thought out the window by conforming to the stereotypical gender role. I'm struggling enough with apron choices as it is. (really)

For the record

I started this blog for two reasons: 1. to make sense of all the thoughts and emotions going through my head when I found out I was pregnant--and "wasn't allowed" to tell anyone I was pregnant yet, and 2. in hopes that someday I will be able to show little Hudson what the beginning of his life was like, for me and for him.

Here and there I have posted completely random things that neither pertained to my thoughts/emotions nor Hudson's development (e.g. my photography interlude). But that's because this is my little place of the web, and I can do with it what I want.

My posts have been sporadic and unfunny lately because I have started to feel like posting has become a job, or like homework. I'm putting off posting just as I do my homework. I have a list of post ideas on my PDA like a to-do list, and I hope to get through all of them soon.

Today, I'm going back to my journal-esque style of writing and frame of mind. I'm going to do my best to forget that I now have an audience and therefore relieve myself from the pressure. I'm not going to worry about if I make too many bullet-style posts or post too many pictures. This blog is for Hudson and I...and if you want to follow along and check in occasionally, well that's okay too.

So, for the record, my super duper baby Hudson is now a member of the roly poly club. Sunday (yesterday), at a little past 5 a.m., the wiggle worm finally twisted his little body in such a way that he rolled over, back to tummy. Quite pleased with himself (and the groggy kisses and cheers from Mommy), he practiced nonstop until nap time at 8:30. And practically every minute thereafter.

In addition, the smart little devil learned that there isn't only one way to get around. Today, while having tummy time on his mat, he learned just how far you can tilt until you plop over on your back. He definitely scared himself a bit when he went from staring at the floor to staring at the ceiling in a very ungraceful way. The back-to-tummy roll seems to have an edge on the tummy-to-back when it comes to the gentleness of maneuvers.

In light of these recent developments we are planning on steam cleaning the carpets tomorrow. 1. Because they're nasty and were "cleaned" by the landlords before move-in with some mysterious substance that left the carpet crunchy. It turns your feet black when you walk on it--definitely not something I want Huddy ingesting. 2. Because...well, I forgot what number 2 was going to be and that's just fine. This is all part of my renewed outlook on blogging.
Completely nonsensical sentences add to the fun and authenticity, right?

And just because I can, here are some pictures:

Dinger Doozy

How do you tell a four-month-old little boy that his attempts to "help" during diaper changes aren't really of much assistance? And that the protruding thing below his belly button isn't a handle? And that toys don't belong down there either? And that e.coli isn't just a fun grouping of syllables?

Encouraging him to find his nose or the rail of the changing table instead of his tallywhacker just isn't working. I think I'm going to be stuck with my distraction and hand-holding techniques for quite a bit longer.

Oh boys.

Is it nap time yet?

This is totally how my day goes...

{ Fresh Photo Friday } The eyes have it

You can say it...

Awwww

Doctor's appointment went well today. He's only 17 lbs. That's the 90th percentile for weight and 98th for height. You're getting so big, baby boy. He'll be ready for rice cereal soon. Yipes!