In short, I would like my laptop back. And maybe some stability in general.

Due to technical difficulties and logistical challenges, I'm typing this on my smartphone. My laptop is having issues-procrastinateable issues because I'm at my parents' house with my mom's laptop. However, mine holds extremely precious photos of Hudson's first year of life on Planet Earth and such (that I was going to backup on discs this week) that I will need eventually. My laptop also has an SD card reader-the only current way I can get photos from my camera to my computer--and what fun is a blog post without pictures? (see previous post for a boring example). My boy is gorgeous and you simply must see.

More about Midge. I have acquired a (green) fridge in addition to a washer and dryer. Hooray for appliances! However, my bathroom still doesn't have a floor and the shower is unbelievably nasty. Trust me on this. AND even after some hot and heavy work with the carpet cleaner, the kitchen floor is still ridiculous. I don't even want to think of what caused such an atrocity.

It really is killing me to not have an easy way to upload photos. Today, for example, Huddy Buddy and I enjoyed a picnic in the perfect Iowa weather. And--get this--the kid is still gorgeous! You would have loved to see. In addition, I have acquired even more vintage Pyrex and Fire King that I just know all of the nerds folks with refined taste that read my blog (maybe one, every few months) will love.

In other news, Hudson says a few syllables that we take to have meaning. And, just a few days ago I got him to combine two goodies. "Hot" + "mama = "hot mama!" I love this talking stuff.
Fine, so it was a trick, but I'm just positive it came straight from the heart.
Just like this super deep post.

Chchchanges

You guessed it, folks, it's time for a bullet post.

• Hey. Y'know what? We moved. Sure did. Hudson and I are now back to my home state, north of Missoura aka Misery.
• We may or may not be moving into Midge. The uncertainty comes from the sheer nastiness that is Midge's interior. I will be painting and cleaning as much as I possibly can in the next few weeks in order to make it habitable for the little man and I.
• Hudson has been spending a lot of time with Grandma and Grandpa lately so that I can work on Midge. I can't tell you how great it is to have the nanny service. Hudson would be eating a whole heckuvalotta dead bugs (and possibly live ones too) if he had to hang out there for very long.
• I will surely post pictures of Midge's interior...as soon as it's fixed up. At it's present state, someone will call family services to ensure that Hudson will not be subjected to the horror.
• I'm still unemployed and perpetually working on cover letters and resume updates...when I find the time somewhere between getting a place to live and feeding and rearing my rambunctious toddler.
• As you can imagine, it's a pretty hectic life when you're mid-move, still not unpacked, trying to find a job, daycare, set up doctors appointments, still have a life outside your immediate responsibilities, etc.
• It kinda stinks waiting for things to fall into place. It will happen eventually, right? Right?
• Things to look forward to when I come up for air and can craft a non-bulleted post: Hudson's trip to the airshow and his first encounter with the not-so-great-outdoors. With pictures.

End update. Over and out.

Bring on the rain

Within the last few weeks, little Huddy Buddy's fears have developed. As evidenced by the balloon-o-doom, some things, even traditionally jolly things, have started to make the big fearless boy crawl back to his momma. The time has come that something in that oversized, barely-toddler brain of his has made the connection that some things just can't be trusted.

It was a warm June day in Missouri and the apartment was getting stuffy. I thought it would be great to release the monster and let him frolic on the deck. The catch? It was precipitating.

I admit that I was a bit curious to see just how wild the wild man would get in a mild summer shower. Clad only in his all-in-one cloth diaper, the little dude was in for his first playin'-in-the-rain experience. Here's how it went down.

Normally, the sound of the door knob turning sends Hudson wobbling toward the great outdoors, and this day was no different. However, as soon as I shut the door behind us...

he was a little apprehensive. He has seen rain before, no doubt, but never have I been so willing to let him freely explore the heavily condensated atmospheric water vapor. Sorry, I mean "wet stuff."

After giving a few quick glances between me and the rain, he was able to part himself from the door.
Where he started the stare-down phase of uncertainty.

So that stuff is coming outta the sky, and landing right abouts there on our deck. If I coordinate my movements approximately 915 millimeters south, that liquid precipitation will be in my peripersonal space.

Needing to examine it further, he cautiously inched toward a different viewpoint.

Once in my peripersonal space, there is a probability that my core body temperature could drop in response to the evaporation of cool H2O on my epidermis. In addition, my developing coordination, likened to a state of intoxication, puts me at risk for an ungraceful splash.

Then I saw it click. The "what the hell" came over him, if you will. Just. do it. baby.

I'm doing it I'm doing it I'm doing it I'm doing it

He kept going.

I'm still doing it I'm still doing it I'm still doing it

And he liked it.

Quite pleasing to the senses, if I do say so myself.

He was splashing around in the tiny puddles in no time at all, like a newly-minted one-year-old should.

Baby luv da wain.

Hudson showed me that he isn't turning into a big sissy face, just getting more diligent about weighing his options first. It just so happens that cuddling with Mommy is a pretty darn good option sometimes. Verdict: playing in the rain rules.

The best year ever: Happy Birthday, Huddy Buddy.

Dear Hudson Sage,

How do I begin a post about your birthday--your first ever birthday. There are so many ways to say I love you and I'm glad you're here, but none will be perfect enough to truly let you know how much I appreciate your tiny little self and how much your presence has been a gift to me.
"It's been real..." is my style, but probably doesn't convey the importance of such a milestone.
"It all started when..." might be interesting, but will probably be a better story later on.

How about, "I. Just. Love. You." There it is. It's really all that needs to be said. You are the most perfect, precious thing to hit this planet, and I am thankful you made the treacherous journey down my birth canal 365 days ago.

As we know, I thought I was far too young and completely not ready to welcome a little human like you into the world, much less keep you sustained until your first birthday. But guess what--we're soaring. Our first moments together are representative of how our first year as mother and son have been--you loudly enter the world as the tears flow out of my eyes, you smack me right in the face with your slimy little hand and I laugh 'til it hurts. All is well.

Right from the start you were a cuddlebug--not pleased in the least bit unless you were snuggled upright, tummy-to-chest with a comfortable person who absolutely had to be walking around. You have kept everyone on their toes, literally. For quite a while the only way to calm you was to bounce and move and move and move--the definition of a bouncing baby boy. You were a hefty little thing, but what is more special than a chubby, cuddly newborn stud muffin?

You are such a strong, stubborn and hot-tempered little creature. Your persistence is admirable, though exhausting most times. You are oh-so curious, out to explore and taste whatever you can reach. Your smile is contagious. You are so happy to see absolutely everyone, every time. Everyone we meet is your new best friend in your eyes, and they are hilarious and endlessly entertaining to boot.


You are the biggest, most impressive man at your daycare and probably a three-county area. Not that I'm biased, but your shiny blonde locks and toothy grin also make you the most handsome. It's true that you are the sweetest in those rare moments when you are sleeping.




To summarize, I give you this:

This has been the best year of my whole entire life, as I am positive it has also been yours. It has been the most challenging for me, but like most things, the sheer joy and purpose you have brought to my life trumps all of the sleepless, frustrating nights. This is life, baby, dig in.





Happy one year of existence, lil dude, Mommy loves ya.

Meet the balloon of doom

Such a jolly day, that birthday bash day was--until a little something snuck its way inside.

Turns out, Huddy Buddy isn't such a big fearless explorer afterall. In fact, I have finally found the ONE thing that will keep Hudson away from no-nos.
Am I unethically cultivating his fear for my own benefit? Probably so. But to be fair, Roomie Val and I have given it a good faith effort to acclimate Hudson to the new big scary thing.

What is this thing, you ask?

I present to you, the scariestmotherfunkinthingonplanetearth, according to Hudson Sage:



Tah-dah! It's an absurd cupcake-man adorned birthday balloon that even plays a whimsical birthday tune when tapped (at least 50 times, it promises). Crazy and a little tacky, I admit, but nightmares are not made of these. Hudson remains at least 10 feet from the thing at all times. I may or may not have strategically placed it at the end of the hall, standing watch over the bathroom doors, our room doors, and this cabinet-o-fun that had been completely irresistible to the tot before cupcake-man made his debut:



Notice how the bottom shelves are a little more bare than the top? It wasn't always this way. Hudson has been working on this for a good month now. I know that they make door stops to attempt to "babyproof" cabinets, but this piece belongs to Roomie Allie, and such an undertaking is probably not worth my valuable time since we will be moving at the end of the month anyway.

Here we are, three days post-party and the big happy balloon of doom is hovering a little lower to the ground. Eventually, my baby deterrent will meet the fate of all helium balloons and will have to be taken to a better place. Question is, will I shell out another $10 at Wal-Mart to keep Hudson in line, or will I be a good mommy, $10 richer, and continue to endlessly chase the turd out of the pretties?

*sigh* The complexities of motherhood.