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?

The day we all broke down

I'm a big talker about how much I like toddlers and how I'd rather handle a room full of them over spending time with a newborn. But holy holy is Marina testing me on that theory.

Today Marina saw a Dora blanket. And she "needed" it.
Have you seen these Dora blankets? They are bright pink and pukey purple and feature a Dora with creepy eyes. Hell no, sister, that is not coming in the house. So instead of throwing herself on the floor as usual, Marina smacked my nose and pulled out my hair and screamed so loud I had to remove her from the store.

A few hours later, Ella's leg got squished by a chair and she screamed harder than she did when she got shots.

And before all this, I had to deal with an awkward situation that I will not discuss further because if there's anything I learned from Dooce, is that one must never, ever blog about what goes on between 8 a.m. and 4 p.m.

Working Mom

This last week has been very intense.
See, I had to make a decision. A life-changing decision. And it took a lot of introspection to get to my answer.

So basically I was offered a job as the editor-in-chief of a local Jewish magazine for a teeny, tiny bit more money than I was making. But really it was more involved than just the money. I had to decide who I was.

The magazine is a monthly. So my hours would have been shorter and I would have had a few extra hours to spend with the girls each day. Plus I liked the idea of coming up with story ideas and delegating and writing a column.

But then there was the issue of going from a very very big publication to a much smaller and specialized one. And it's not like I was unhappy where I was. I mean, I've been able to travel and write about music and put together fashion shoots.

I had to decide: was my ride over? Was it time for me to be more of a mom who still gets to write, but on a smaller level? Or do I still have that "fire," as they like to say.

Turns out, I still have it. I'm not ready to leave.

Right now it may mean that I spend an hour or two less with the Beans and the Beela but I hope that overall, it means I will be a happier parent. And sure, it's hard right now since I can't really go out and cover local music if I'm in bed by 10 p.m. Hopefully those things will work themselves out in time.

But I hope that when they're old enough to know, they can see that they don't have to sacrifice who they are to be happy. Because I almost did. But those little girls inspired me to be true to myself.

Warning: this is about poop

So, you would think that if a baby poops in the bath tub, it's a pretty ideal situation. I mean, they poop, they're already in soapy water so all the cleaning is done for you.
Today I found out it doesn't work like that.
One of the girls showed me just how mistaken I am about this theory. (I will not name names to avoid future humiliation. Also eliminating any chance of retaliation in the form of going to seedy Revolucion nightclubs in order to dance and drink away the pain because everyone knows she pooped in the tub.)

Yeah, so has a piece of poop ever touched your body? No? This is what it's like. You're just sitting there putting soap on babies, singing songs, making shampoo sculptures with hair AND THEN a little brown thing rolls on your leg when you lift up the child. You're like, is that . . .? A toy, maybe? A piece of soap that broke away? But deep down you know. Because as soon as it touched you, your entire body shuddered and felt very, very wrong.
And let me tell you that part of the reason one feels the need to think it's a toy or a piece of soap is because the sooner you realize what it is, the sooner you have to go through the cleansing process. The cleansing process involves Clorox, Clorox and those disinfectant wipe things. And that's just on my leg.
After that, you must clean the tub and all the toys and anything else within five feet of the poo.

All that and I still don't get to sleep in.

Fun!

I am not afraid of age 2 even though most people say I should be.
But, just look, this is what happens now. How can I not be excited for this next year?



OK, so this happened on her birthday and she still has sticky areas where the gunk wouldn't wash out. And maybe Marina is a bit crabby. But everyday I keep remembering I DON'T HAVE NEWBORNS ANYMORE! and none of the other stuff bugs me so much.

Happy Birthday Marina

Yesterday Marina turned two and we had the party I've been imagining since she was born. I mean, you can't have a baby on July 4 and not imagine throwing a birthday in the backyard with hot dogs and hamburgers and water splashing all over the place. Well, so, we didn't have the BBQ part because we don't have a grill. But everything else was perfect.



She had the most amazing time in the kiddie pool, which is comforting considering her aversion to ocean water and fear of the neighborhood pool. And while I was watching her play with her friends, I didn't think back to the day she was born. (Because with back labor, why conjure up such painful memories?) But I did think a lot about right after Ella was born and how mature she reacted while we all adjusted and suffered through the newborn phase. She's just always been so kind and caring and I guess that's what I reflected on as she ran around naked in the yard.

The party was great and lots of her toddler pals showed up. Besides the pools we had a coloring station, a sticker station and a sidewalk chalk area. We also had a cooler just for chocolate milk.

Is it appropriate to say how awkward it feels to be writing about Marina as "she" instead of as "you?" I think that's why I haven't posted in a while. I tried writing twice before only to delete it. So bear with me while I get used to the format change.