The life and times of Marina from the perspective of unicorn shoes

Gluttony

Too many of Tia Patty's cookies + lots and lots of toys =

HANUKKAH


HANGOVER

Parent presents

For his birthday, Matt got new pajamas, tea, a board game, chocolate cherries and this:



A two-seater wagon complete with cup holder and sun shade.

And though it wasn't really for him, he was easily the most excited about this.

This is all you get

I know.
There's been a lack of posting.
Again.

It's just that, well, things are not easy right now.

Staying on top of two very opinionated girls, along with the insane amount of work to be done during the day, leaves me totally listless.

But here's an shortened version of what my posts would have been like recently:

Tantrums, peeing in underwear, clingy babies, tantrums, crying, snow!

The Christmas Princesses

We don't celebrate Christmas, but there's no denying that Christmas lights are super pretty. And now that we are suburbanites, I am noticing that people out here are really, really into decorating.
There's this one house on the corner that has the entire blow-up cast of Winnie the Pooh on an actual, moving blow-up merry-go-round.

Sometimes, for fun, I take the girls to get warm milks at Starbucks (whatever, I don't want to hear it) and then we drive around looking at the "beautiful lights." Our favorites are the white lights, especially when there's a matching all-white Christmas tree in the window.

But there's this one house that has a manger all lit up, and the plastic people in that manger scene are wearing purple and blue and pink robes.

So it's totally understandable why I would hear a little voice shouting excitedly from the back of the car:

"Look, Mommy! Princesses!"

Wiped Out

November is usually my favorite month.

Ever since that one Thanksgiving weekend in 11th grade, when I went to a party with seniors and college kids and consumed a lot of wine coolers and "special cigarettes," November's always had a bit of reckless fun to it.

But not this year. November 2008 was nothing but a mess of pink eye, mouth infections, stomach flus and sleepless nights.

Sure, we got a new president and Ella turned one and those were amazing, inspiring events.

Even so, I am just TIRED and worn out. All I want to do is lay in bed for an entire weekend and watch romantic comedy reruns on TNT. And then I think that I probably won't be able to do something like that for another 10 years at least makes me a little extra crabby.

Blah.

Ella and cake: a love story in pictures

Happy birthday, Ellalali.

LIVEBLOGGING 08: The tasters

Though Ella was asleep much of the morning, she woke up for the best part. Tasting.

(Before you look at the photos I have to explain why Ella is wearing "boy" pajamas. Remember the bubble bath night? Well I didn't realize we were going to have a bubble bath night and I wasn't prepared. So we borrowed these and they were so warm and cozy that Ella's been wearing them ever since.)

Here you go:



I decided to eat up little Ella instead of having a fourth piece of bread.



Happy Thanksgiving!

LIVEBLOGGING 08: Thanksgiving Roll-its

Marina is hard at work making "roll-its."
Though she arrived a little late to the process because she didn't want to pull herself away from "Little Bear" on the TV.



The actual "roll-it" part



I am not just liveblogging. I am also listening to Yacht Rock (Supertramp, ELO) and making cranberries!

Second Annual Thanksgiving Bread Live Blogging

It's Thanksgiving and that means Matt makes his annual salt sticks, which is a fancy name for bread rolls.
Unfortunately the early photos are stuck in Matt's phone and all I can show you is this:



But already these things have happened:
A pumpkin spice latte for me.
A trip to Abuelita's house to pick up a rolling pin.
Flour on the couch.
A sister head-collision resulting in a bloody lip for Ella.
And of course, The Nutcracker as background music.

Stay tuned. . .

Europop Inspiration

Ella started walking about 2 weeks ago.

It started out as a few steps here and there but nothing very sturdy.
Until!
I decided to have an afternoon dance party in the computer room and since I had recently gone to see Yelle, I was still very addicted to her songs.

As Ella watched me and Marina dance and spin in circles, Ella got up, walked over to us and started bouncing up and down.

Can you really blame her? There's no way to keep still during this song:

Ella's actual birthday

Today is Ella's birthday.
We had a party for her yesterday that included a lot of cereal that went uneaten and way too much cake being smooshed. But I don't have pictures of that ready to post yet.

And anyway, today is the real birthday, so it's more authentic to show you photos of today, a day where we wound up having a crazy, unexpected party with Marina's playgroup.

I will spare you the boring dance party/finger-painting/jumping on the bed details because all you really need to see is how it ended:



GROUP BUBBLE BATH!!

Oh, wait.
Where is the birthday girl?

I couldn't very well have two slippery babies in the tub AND take a picture, so you get to see Ella pre-bath, with a carefully placed smidge of black paint on her nose. You know, because she's such an arty goth.

More bad

We've been having pretty horrible nights around here.
Marina woke up screaming last night and stayed awake for three hours. Matt ultimately had to sleep on the floor with her.

Today we were all exhausted. And though Marina was fine most of the day, the crying started again at bed time.

This is new for us. We have always been pretty good about bed time. We read books, tell stories and she drifts off to sleep. Plus, I basically only get two to three hours to myself and those hours are now being taken up by worrying and stress over the constant crying.

I'm not really handling it well. I don't know what to do.

Grown up parties = life changing

First: I know, I know. I failed the blog a day challenge already. But I will continue on as if nothing happened, so ssssh.

This is the story of how Marina gave up diapers.

Last week, Kyle and Erin had a BBQ at their house. A grown-up BBQ. Matt was all tired and crabby so I decided to leave him at home and just take Marina. There was a treehouse there, afterall.

For some reason, Marina decided she wanted to wear underwear to the "grown up party." She never wears underwear. She fights me about it all the time.

So, uh, okay. Underwear. I brought extra clothes and we went.

I took her to the bathroom soon after we got there and she was very impressed with how pretty it was. There was a candle in the bathroom! And flowers! Wow! So very grown up!

And that was it. She gave up diapers. She doesn't even want them to sleep, which is its own stressful issue on my end.

But I totally didn't expect it to happen like that. I thought we'd be fighting all the time. That we'd have to go through a Pull-Ups phase. That we'd have to rent the Elmo Potty Movie a bunch of times.

I mean, we've been trying to potty train for a while, but I wouldn't exactly say we were trying trying.

Also, for those moms who are going to hate me, I'm not saying that she is totally potty trained, either. She's just given up diapers. That's a HUGE difference.

We have plenty of accidents. Enough that I had to buy two 10-packs of baby Fruit-of-the-Looms.

But they are grown-up accidents, not baby ones. And that's a whole new adventure for us.

Diaper-free crying

Today Marina cried for THREE hours. THREE!
Do you even understand the concept of crying for THREE hours? Non-stop crying that included many bouts of screaming. Not even Dora or Diego or DJ Lance could save the day.

At one point I even grabbed a beer hoping it would calm my stress, but I had three sips and now I have a headache.

Marina had a fever. After a dose of Motrin, she snapped back to normal. It was so odd to see her screaming and then, like, minutes later, something went off in her brain and she switched back to sing-songy Marina as if nothing happened.

So, whatever those Twitter moms have against Motrin, they are insane. Plus, wearing a baby is fashionable, I know I invested plenty of money in having cute baby carriers.

That was a weird tangent. Sorry.

I'm taking a very long time to say that even after the worst night in the world, Marina decided she wanted to sleep without diapers!

More excuses

I am going to the Twilight movie screening tonight! And then I have to write the review immediately after, which means a very late night for me.

So once again I can not write fun stories about how Ella is a little walker now. Or how Marina is wearing underwear to school.

I promise to share those tales, along with the one about how we almost gave cousin Ezra pink eye, just as soon as I get back to normal.

In the meantime, please reminisce with me to a Halloween before Beans or Bells.

Just Kickin' It, Kickin' It

Wouldn't you know. The day after I make a promise to the internet, I get hit with Pink Eye Day.

Ella and Marina stayed home from school because their eyes are leaking boogers. And it's disgusting. Plus they hate getting eye drops, so it's that much more fun.

On top of Pink Eye Day, it appears that I've walked in to Sore Throat Evening.

You can tell how sick I am feeling because I'm making up stupid names like Pink Eye Day and Sore Throat Evening.

But a promise is a promise. And here I am.

Unfortunately, I am too grumpy to tell any stories.

So here is a picture of the girls being all white trash, kicking it in on their lawn chairs the driveway. It's titled: Just Kickin' It, Kickin' It, which is how Marina says it:

Daily Show

From reading other blogs, I gather that this is the month where bloggers are supposed to post something every single day.
NaBloPoMo? Is that right?

Either way, it feels like a challenge. I know I'm coming into this halfway through the month, but what the hell. I'll give it a shot.

Does this count as a post?

Minnesota shout-out

I apologize for not posting in a while.
This time, my excuse it that a friend at work recently let me borrow her copy of Twilight and I got completely obsessed with my new vampire boyfriend, Edward.

But I wanted to put up a few photos from when Grandpa Doug came to visit. Unfortunately we did not get a picture of Marina doing the Grandpa walk.

And since Matt told me that I have quite the loyal Minnesota fanbase, I thought I'd dedicate these to them.

Hi guys!

Here's Ella and her old man.



And sisters looking serious.



Barnaby and Grandpa Doug and Marina.

The longest day, ever

I hate it when the clocks go back. The day just d r a g s

So, because I do not feel like thinking of words as I have two articles to write tomorrow, here is a photo journey of November 1.

After making hand turkeys at Emmanu-El, we went out for a bit of sport. (Please notice the rainbow unicorn Vans Marina picked out and has worn everyday for two weeks.)



Ella, who has been totally crabby and ill and miserable this week, finally got a bit of her spark back at my grandma's house. (See that orange and brown rug? I used to ride that thing down the stairs like a sled.)



After a long day of eating green guavas and licking lychees, Marina got one of those rolling backpacks and a pair of new pajamas. All in various shades of purple.



Good night!

En Espanol

For the last three months, I've been really lazy about speaking to Marina in Spanish.
I think it's because she has such an amazing vocabulary in English and we have actual conversations, so I just want to talk to her all the time.

"How was your work, mommy? Did you have a good work?"
"Yes, I did, thank you. How was school today?"
"Good. I played with my friends."

But lately I've been noticing that Marina's understanding less and less when I speak to her in Spanish. She only can say individual words, not sentences or even active verbs like "eat" or "play" or "run."

So I need to stop that, and not even because I want her to be able to communicate with her family. I mean, come on, pretty much everyone in the family is married to a gringo, and Spanish stopped being the main language a long, long time ago.

I just want her and Ella to have the advantage of being bilingual, of being able to have a bigger world view.

It's not easy, especially since I tend to only speak English when Matt is around. But this is my attempt to start fresh.



Orale.

BFF

I apologize that this picture is crooked, but I just couldn't pass up posting the cutest moment in sister history.



They are in their car seats. Holding hands. Because they like each other.

(Or because Matt is driving and he drives like he's from Boston and they are terrified? KIDDING. KIDDING.)

Ella says hi

An unlikely ending

"I want some ice cream, please."

"We don't have any ice cream, Marina."

"YES. ICE. CREAM."

"We don't have any."

"I'M LEAVING!!!"

(opens door and walks, arms flailing, to the car.)

"I want to GO!!"

"Uh . . . No. We're not going anywhere."

"I WANT TO DRIVE! I'M LEAVING. I WANT TO DRIVE!"

"You can't drive. Driving is for Mommies."

"NO. DRIVING IS NOT FOR MOMMIES. IT'S FOR ME."

"It's for Mommies. HEY! How about a cucumber??"

"A pickle?? OKAY!!"

Problem solved! Healthily!

Nothing a bit of frosting can't fix

I had a craptacular week. Let's break it down.

Monday: One of my articles caused a shit storm.

Tuesday: Dealt with the shit storm, which included speaking with an overly opinionated cop.

Wednesday: Got sick. Spilled hot coffee on myself while driving Diana's super clean Lexus. Went to the wrong movie screening. Thought about my sins for Yom Kippur.

Thursday: Felt even more sick. Mom got vertigo while Marina was sleeping over. Went to the right movie screening. Told stories to Marina at midnight because she was still a little freaked out by the vertigo incident.

Friday: Forgot my glasses because I was overly tired. Moped.

But yesterday, I came home to find this:



Marina made it for me. (With Diana's help, of course. And thanks to the Samloff's tradition of sending me a confetti cake every year.)

It really was enough to make the rest of the stuff seem inconsequential.

Family Portrait

Dear Marina,
Tonight we were supposed to take a family portrait because your teacher sent us a note that said you were the only kid in class who did not have one.
This could partly be blamed on me because maybe you haven't realized but I've had two kids in two years and that makes you get all puffy and tired, so I've avoided cameras for a while.
But today we were all set to take one. Then your dad decided to go running at the gym, and guess what? The Red Sox are on and the game is all tied and I know he's just standing on the treadmill, dead tired but not able to move from his spot for fear of jinxing anything.
So when you go to school tomorrow, instead of a picture of me and you and Ella and Daddy, you might as well just take a picture of the 2008 Red Sox team. Make sure you pick one that spotlights JBay or Big Papi, because for the next few weeks, those dudes pretty much are our family.

A typical day with an opinionated two-year-old

"I don't want to go to school. School is broken."

"I don't want strawberries. Strawberries are too big."

"I don't like socks. Socks are too tiny."

"I don't want to wear training pants. Training pants are broken."

"I don't want to go to Playhouse Cafe. I am sleeping."

"I don't want to go to bed. The bed is closed."

"I don't want milk. Milk is too big."

Bed time and a picture unrelated to bed time

It's just before 8 p.m. and Marina is in her bed. Whining.
The last few weeks she's been doing that thing where she tries anything to get out of bed time.

First she used to say she was hungry. And that was a good card to play because she never eats, so we're always really sensitive to food issues. So she'd be all, "I'm hungry." The intelligent part of my brain knew what she was trying to do. But the mom part was like: maybe she is really hungry and if I don't feed her I will be starving her and causing her body to rot. Obviously that side wins and I take her to the table and she just sits there staring at her food, sometimes doing her dramatic thing where she covers her mouth with both hands.

Then she started saying she had "a poop." She never did.

Lately we've been having arguments about the light in her room. She has this light ball under her bed with a dimmer. If she doesn't get to dim it to her specifications she will scream in her bed until I come in and let her move the dimmer thing (and I only come in because I don't want Ella to wake up, not because I'm a pushover).

Last night she actually dimmed it all the way off, so we were both happy. Tonight, she turned the light on full blast.
"Not a little bit of light, Mommy."

Of course, I turned it to the appropriate level of sleep light. And that's why she's in her room, whining. Oh, actually!! Not anymore!!

And just for fun, here is a picture. Well, it's actually a re-post from Facebook. But most of the familial readers do not have Facebook accounts and they are the ones who care most about this stuff.

Getting ooooold

This post is dedicated to Kim Stoutamire for nudging me into updating . . .

I'm going to be 35 in, like, 3 weeks. Thirty five. I think that's the first time I said it out loud. Or out loud on the computer, whatever, you know what I mean.

When one is 35, they are no longer young. They aren't just 30 or early 30s. They are straight-up mid-30s and next comes late 30s and after that is 40 which = middle age. You want to know how I know this? Whenever you fill out a survey or questionnaire they have those boxes that ask your age and you can pick 18 to 24; 25 to 34; 35 to 45.

Do you see my new category?? It's not good.

I can talk about how I've done a lot of cool things in my life, like going to the Oscars a bunch or being able to score great seats at concerts. But there's no denying it now. Come October 15 I will be old. And none of those aforementioned cool things will change the fact. Not even my intense knowledge of Gossip Girl and The Hills will get me out of this one.

Tradition

I once saw some comedian on TV who walked on stage and immediately sang:
"Sheket Bevakasha"
A few scattered peoplein the audience responded with, "Hey!"
Then the comic made a joke about how every single Jewish person in the room just outed themselves. And it was hilarious. Because any Jewish kid whose ever gone to Jewish school or camp learns the
"Be Quiet Please."
"Hey!"
call-and-response song.
You can be having lunch or playing tennis or reading a book and suddenly some cool type authority figure will sing out "She-ket Be-va-ka-sha!" which literally translates to be quiet, please.
And it's instinctual to respond, "Hey!" no matter what. You can't NOT do it. It's coded in Jewish genes. (Same for the Shabbat Shalom song.)

Now that Marina's in preschool, she's learning tons of new tunes. And every day I hear some random version of one. Like the fish song goes something about "Fish, fish, fish in the water. OH NO!"
Or there's the pizza one? "I am a pizza, please eat me." Maybe?

Today after school, Marina sang "Sheket Bevakasha" in that familiar singsongy melody.
I immediately did they "Hey!" fist pump, thinking it would be, like, some inside joke with myself.

Turns out, though, that age 2 is not too early to be indoctrinated. Because at the exact same time that I said "Hey!" I look in the rearview mirror and Marina was doing it too. Fist pump and all.

Hair

Every now and then, it gets kind of annoying that Marina has a cooler haircut than I do.

Trust me, if I had such amazingly straight and golden hair like hers, I'd go out and get "The Marina" this very minute. But I don't.

And, like, every time we go somewhere, I get comments about how great her hair is and I have to be all, "Yeah, I know, she's way more stylish than me."

Even the alternative-looking girls at the Children's Museum recognize Marina's potential hipsteriness and take a special liking to her. These are girls with similar haircuts and dangly earrings and skinny jeans that I would want as my own friends, but I'm just the dorky mom with the too-clean Chuck Taylors.

But I would like to remind Miss Marina what her hair used to look like back in the 06s.



Though some would argue that a natural-born mohawk sort out-cools anyone in the land.

The CW

I have not been writing because three out of my five week nights are occupied by programming on the CW network. It's actually really embarrassing that I'm this immature.
To make it worse, on Mondays, not only do I watch Gossip Girl, but then I switch over to The Hills. I think I am one of the last 34-year-olds on the planet that still watches MTV.

This is what I do instead of capturing the precious moments of childhood.

But OMG, can you believe Chuck Bass can pull off wearing a white tuxedo? And why am I the only person who loves the new 90210?

A new year

All the teachers at school were super nervous about Marina starting "real" preschool. They said she was used to being the boss of the baby room and it was going to be a rude awakening to be surrounded by other kids her age.

And the first day I took Marina to her new class for a 30-minute warmup, these predictions came true. She hardly left my side. She looked at the new kids and their sticky hands and play-doh-stained t-shirts and wanted nothing to do with any of them.

But then on her first actual day she saw her new room had a kitchen! And books! And live frogs! And no cribs! Or high chairs! And it turns out she loves school now. She sings songs and has friends and takes naps on a cot, just like the big kids.

Her whole attitude's changed, even at home. Kind of like she just grew up in one week.

Like today, when we went to a birthday party at the beach. Instead of being terrified of the waves as she was at the start of summer, she ran full-speed into the ocean. I tried grabbing her hand but she wanted nothing to do with me and I was like, oh no. Is this how it starts? I had a vision of her in drama class or something going to her plays and her being all, mom, can you just go?

But then a big wave came and Marina ran back to my arms. So at least I get her for a few extra years.

I would have taken a picture but she was always off doing her own thing. So here's a picture of Matt and Ella. Ella discovered that sand is a really remarkable snack:

Freeze it and they'll eat it

I haven't written because I'm working on a major fashion shoot for work and my days are spent picking out the most beautiful clothes in the world for a magazine we're putting out.
Seriously. I actually held Prada Lace in my hands.

This means the girls have been spending this week of their vacation with Matt. On their first day together, Matt took them to Sea World AND the Zoo. On the first day!

So both of us have been pretty exhausted.
Do you really want an idea just how tired we are?

Somehow Marina got a hold of a bag of frozen corn. And, of course, it spilled all over the kitchen floor.

Picking objects off the floor and putting them in her mouth happens to be Ella's most favorite thing to do. So imagine! An entire kitchen floor full of cold yellow things!

Before we even had time to clean the mess, both girls sat on the floor as if I'd just presented them with a glorious feast. They ate every single piece of frozen corn and then demanded more.

And Matt and I looked at each other and were all, "Well, at least it's nutritious."

That's what sisters do?

Over my week-long vacation with the girls, our best days were those that were totally planned out.

Tuesday: Library, naps, Play House Cafe
Wednesday: Restaurant day, naps, pool party
Thursday: Children's Museum, nap, Zoo

But after the megadose of Thursday's activities, I had no energy to plan anything for Friday except putting our hair up and torturing Ella in the jumpy.


Untitled from Nina Hall on Vimeo.

Vacation, day four

The new Children's Museum = best place, ever!



We climbed pillows! We painted cars! We ran around! Wooohooo!!

No nap Wednesday, a tale in photos

Notice how Marina's "guys," normally squished at the end of her crib, are now carefully arranged throughout her sleeping space.



And she's feeling so very clever about this plan.



Now she's just been cheeky.



This only explanation for this look is that I let her read Vogue. Obviously it makes an impression.

No nap Wednesday

Right now, Marina is in her bed "napping."
She's been in there for an hour, talking to herself and playing with her dolls and animals. "Hello Hippo! You taking a nap?"

Marina is doing everything one can do in a crib except sleep in it.

I think it's because she was super busy "working" and now she's all jacked up.

Paper crazy

You thought I was kidding about Ella's obsession with paper?


Paper from Nina Hall on Vimeo.

Vacation, day one

The girls have many, many days off from school and I am taking care of them this week.
Yes, I'm terrified.
Here's our day one summary:

Sea World Shamu show. It was hot. The whales were acting all lazy and not splashing anyone. (BTW, the more I go see this show, the more I sympathize with that Free Willy movie.) Then naps. Then backyard time.

Most terrifying moment: Marina's post-nap tantrum in which she ran around the house yelling, "NOT YOUR SHAMU, ELLA. MY SHAMU." As Ella followed her around, crawling and sobbing. And then I got a call from work.

Happiest moment: Watering the grass and making water messes.

When Marina is a bratty teen, I will tell this story and she will be mortified

We're starting to test the whole potty training waters.
Which basically means that every now and then Marina gets to run around without a diaper and if she happens to tell me she has to go, we run inside to the potty. But she hardly ever says anything and before I can do anything about it, there's puddles on the floor.

The other night, I had to water the front lawn and Marina likes to hold the hose and drink from it. And I let her because she looks like a kid from the olden days, like when kids would cool off by the fire hydrant or something. But inevitably this causes her clothes to get wet so I let her strip naked. In the front of the house. Where neighbors could see.

I figured if she had to use the bathroom, she'd tell me. Even though, as I said, this only happens in my imagination. A few minutes after I removed her Cookie Monster diaper, Marina comes running with something brown in her hands.

"Put this in the potty, Mommy," she says not at all grossed out that she's handling her own poop with her BARE HANDS.

"MARINA!!! ARE YOU TOUCHING YOUR OWN POO???"

"Put it in the potty!" she repeated all proud of herself.

So, well, what could I do? I had to rush Ella inside while screaming "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING" until we were able to dispose of it properly.

And while it was gross, I secretly applaud her for maybe, possibly mortifying the mean neighbor lady from across the street who already thinks we're a bunch of low-class renters.

The Queen

Marina's been pretty bossy lately. And if she says she's going to stand on the table she is GOING TO STAND ON THE TABLE and there's nothing anyone can do about it.

The fever. Olympic fever.

For someone who isn't very athletic, I'm surprisingly into the Olympics.

Maybe it's because my Aunt Nancee took me to the 1984 Equestrian Event. Or because my grade school best friend, Samantha, her dad had 1984 Olympics personalized license plates and we were all in awe of them.

So I was super excited for the Opening Ceremonies, which is obviously the best part of the entire games.

The bummer is that Matt was going out and the babies would be asleep and I'd be stuck watching it alone all night. No fun.

Instead, I told Marina that on this one day, if she was good, she could stay up late and watch Olympics. She has no idea what Olympics means. But stay up late? Watch TV? On Mommy's bed? Hellsyeah she's gonna be good.

We cozied up under a blanket, five pillows propped her up so she could see the TV. Every few minutes she looked at me and whispered "Olympics!" like we were sharing something secret.

And then they started. With all those Chinese drummers playing at the same time. It was amazing. Marina was mesmerized.

This picture is dark, and sideways. But here she is imitating the drummers:


The spectacle and the lights left such an impression that I think I found my lifelong Olympic buddy.

(Next time, she'll be old enough to stay up for the Parade of Nations, aka global fashion show. Woohoo!)

Ella, Ella, Ella

This has been a crazy Ella week.



OK, so first the kid learns how to crawl. It's only been a week and she already crawls on grass! Down steps! On tile! And across the hall fast enough to poke her head at the door when Matt comes home from work.

Then.

The other day while Marina was off seeing boats with Mima, Ella and I grabbed the Bjorn and went on a walk to Windmill Farms. Anytime someone walked by us, Ella waved at them. She waved with such confidence and charm that it felt like I had the mayor of Del Cerro strapped to my body.

Later, we got home and I was like, Ella, you're so nice to everyone. BRAVO! And what did the kid do? I swear to you, she clapped.
And then she got another teething biscuit for her efforts.



I realize that this mundane stuff is only interesting to me and maybe her dad and grandparents. (And you too, Kim! Squirrels Forever!) Sometimes, though, I just gotta brag.

Speaking of bragging, my genius child also sprouted her first teeth.

Watch out, Marina. You're about to be smooshed back. And smooshed hard.

Mornings

Matt sent me this just now.
I don't know why I find it so hilarious.



Maybe because the girls are doing their own thing. And they are each so focussed on what they are doing, they don't even notice each other or even how the house is a wreck. It's the most accurate picture of what happens in our house all day, however.

Mischief

A typical weekday afternoon, smooshing Ella.



Or watch it live:
(P.S. We were playing necklaces. They don't usually wear stuff around their necks, so I don't want to hear about choking hazards.)


Smooshing from Nina Hall on Vimeo.

If you read to the end, it will mention Marina, I promise

I had to work at Comic-Con this week.
I've lived in San Diego my entire life and I've managed to avoid it all this time. But my little rouse was up and I was assigned to go and interview people walking around the convention center.

I don't like huge crowds, but I'm no stranger to them. I've covered Coachella and Street Scene and Fashion Week on the West and East Coasts. So me and crowds? We do all right.

So, yeah, I knew it would be crowded and that there'd be people in costumes. But I didn't realize the magnitude of the Con. Plus I didn't recognize anything besides: Superman, Ghostbusters, Mario & Luigi and Pokemon. And those were the minority.

The people I met were actually really nice but I just did not understand most of what was coming out of their mouths. One guy told me how this one video game changed his life because it had subliminal references to Jung and Nietzsche. And he started crying about how it really helped with his anger issues. Um. OK?

Plus, the longer I stayed in the crowded exhibit hall, the more it smelled like sweaty boys and farts.

Today I didn't get coffee before getting there. Plus I got yelled at by all sorts of people, including the ones I was trying to interview. Then I stood outside with masses upon masses of people waiting for the convention center to open. And when it finally did, I went to the only Starbucks that served iced-coffee (30 minute process) and when I gulped it down I instantly got a migraine that didn't go away even after three Alleves, french fries, a giant, sugarey Coke and a nap in the women's lounge at work.

I hope to never, ever go back there again.

The only reason it was worth it was because I found Marina a Totoro doll complete with a little sack of acorns. And when I gave it to her she was so, genuinely excited to be able to hold Totoro. She kept looking into his eyes and saying "I'm gonna watch you!"
And as we passed big trees on the freeway, she turned little Totoro to look out the window and said "Look, it's your tree."



So thank you, Comic-Con for that. And that only.

Not that different

Since Ella was born, I've been saying that she's got my personality and Marina has Matt's. Marina and Matt are easily frustrated and they're always sobusydoingstuff it's hard to keep up with them. Ella, however, loves to just kick it and be mellow.



But now that she's bigger, (8 months tomorrow!) she's showing a new side to her easygoing personality. She is just as - if not more - intense than her dad and sister combined. Um. How did this even happen? Is it because I leave for work early in the morning leaving her in the care of her father for two hours? Because I drank coffee while I was pregnant?

Ella seems to be really focussed. Especially if it involves a piece of paper. When she has paper in her hands, the entire world revolves around it - especially if it comes from the pages of Vogue or Runner's World. She touches it and licks it and bangs it on the ground and does things I didn't even know could be done with paper.

Of course, eating paper isn't exactly something babies should be doing. Especially ones with no teeth. So I take the paper away. And little, sweet, mellow Ella tenses her whole body and turns red and screams. And that's followed by a high-pitched grunt that escalates to a tantrum. ALREADY.

And I just watch her. Shocked and terrified. And immediately return her piece of paper. Paper's made out of nature anyway, right?