It's A . . .

Boy, were we excited to go to the doctor back in December to find out the gender of our little bun in the oven. Unfortunately, the doctor was way backed up, so we twiddled our thumbs in the waiting room for approximately 62 minutes, then in the exam room for another 27. As we waited, we hoped that the baby would cooperate and manifest him/herself to us clearly when the time came. Finally, after we were ready to boycott all doctors offices entirely, in came the man himself. The visit was standard: we heard the heartbeat, he took our questions, and then he started to bustle out the door.

Wait! Weren't we going to do an ultrasound? I hated to put such a demand when the workday had already gone so late, but I just couldn't manage to wait another two weeks for the official sonogram. Dr. Y had said at our last visit that we'd find out today.

So instead we were ushered into another exam room. Out came the goopy gel and up slid my shirt to expose the ample (and growing ampler) midsection. It took not long to find the little one, and even less time to determine which way the wind blew.

Not Even the Chair

There comes a time in every American's life when she wonders, "Does Neil Diamond still got it?" Ladies and gentlemen, HE DOES.

Our first act of any significance in 2009 was to drive down to Las Vegas, sans kid, to see the legend at the MGM Garden Arena (James' Christmas gift to me). It was a Friday night.

We arrived at the venue somewhat travel worn and weary, but starry-eyed. I was unsure what the appropriate dress for a Neil Diamond concert was, so we went as we were, in our jeans and sneakers--it was in an arena after all, and the man does say, "forever in bluejeans, babe." After determining that all of the restaurants near the arena were more than we wanted to spend on a dinner, and not wanting to go too far afield, we opted for the food court.

Two slices of pizza, one hot dog, and one well-drenched caesar salad later, we joined the throngs of pedestrians seeing and being seen. It took not long to observe that we were quite under-dressed for such a pastime in such a location. I had honestly thought that the art of dressing up had been lost--or at least that there was no one public place/event that one could go to and reliably find the majority of his fellowmen dressed to the nines. Apparently a Vegas weekend is such a place, at least at a moderately fancy casino. Sequins, silk, feathers, and cleavage abounded. I ached at the missed opportunity to join my sisters in at least the first three ingredients of a fancily-dressed Vegas experience. Ah well, once we got to our seats in the bleachers, I didn't feel so bad. Stilettos and stands don't mix.

People-watching before the show rendered some interesting results. We were removed from the majority of the crowd by several generations, though there were a few other youngsters smattered about. There was a twenty-something indie kid who brought his mom, a young family of four, a few frat boys, and lots of older ladies dressed much younger than their age. 'Course we were in the nosebleeds, so the crowd may have been very different down on the floor.

The show was AWESOME. Neil struck a pose at the end of each song--no really, e-v-e-r-y song ended with all stage lights cutting except for one or two trained on him in some dramatic stance. He opened his set with a lively rendition of "Holly Holy", a really lively rendition--then proffered other classic hits such as "Cherry Cherry," "Love on the Rocks," "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," "Forever in Bluejeans," "He Ain't Heavy," "Brooklyn Streets," "I Am I Said," and of course, "Sweet Caroline." Neil was a gracious host, affable, personable, and totally in tune with what the majority of his fans were there to see: the old stuff, and he gave it to us with gusto. He did do some songs from his new album, which got less of a rise out of the crowd (not that most of the crowd was rising to the occasion of seeing NEIL DIAMOND in CONCERT, the guy next to me didn't stand up once during the entire show).

He ended the first set with "Hell Yeah," which was absolutely perfect. Of course, the minute he started to make his farewells, folks were on their feet filing out of the arena (Gotta beat the rush!). SERIOUSLY?? He's still talking to you, and you turn your backs on him? And besides the appalling rudeness of it, you really aren't going to stick around for the encore????? You don't deserve to be here--you don't deserve to LIVE!! Nobody turns his back on Neil. Every one of those geriatrics rushing home for overdue bedtime got the hairy eyeball from yours truly.

We, of course, remained faithfully at our seats, though standing and screaming ourselves hoarse through the entirety of the encore and until we were quite sure he was not coming back for a second. That was a sad moment. Out we shuffled with the masses. We were electrified; I couldn't stop smiling. James didn't get his voice back for at least four days. It was a good concert.

All Hallow's Eve

There have been those who have expressed an interest in knowing how we followed up last year's spectacular fancy dress. We considered not doing anything for several reasons: who needs all that candy? Jonah wouldn't remember it anyway, and how can you top the King?

James' creativity juiced up, however, and he really got behind the idea of a robot. Jonah, however was not. On Hallow's Eve Eve, my parents came over to accompany us over to the ward Trunk or Treat. Jonah had had a screwy nap day and was cranky. He refused to get into his costume, so after many strategic attempts we gave up (we have quite a clump of video documenting the process which we had planned to put together into a clever little clip, but the best intentions...). We didn't make it to the activity and still have a clutch of sugarbombs lurking around here somewhere purchased to hand out to eager little mouths.

On actual Halloween we got invited by some friends to join them in taking their two little boys around Grandma Allred's neighborhood in Holladay. We hoped that their oldest, who Jonah adores mightily, could possibly coax Jonah into his costume. No dice. He wore the hat, though, and twenty-seven glowstick armbands, and achieved the look of a Tron Hershey Kiss. We toted the real costume around with us just in case.

Three days later, while James was at work, Jonah finally discovered how awesome his costume was and wore it around the house off and on all day.

The Rabbit is Dead

Pooor Wabbit.























ETA June 4, 2009.

Loving the Point

While we were in Monterey/Pacific Grove, we lived quite close to the beach--a ten minute walk, in fact. Lover's Point was our favorite for sandy sunbathing--very un-crowded and un-buggy (Monterey is home to copious kelp forests, which I hear is magnificent below the surface, but which brings a lot of seaweed to the beach, which brings a lot of bugs). Many blissfully toasty mornings and afternoons were spent on these sands. Just around the point were rockier beaches, ripe with skipping stones.

The Angels

Labor Day weekend found us enjoying the golden rays of Los Angeles with dear friends.

BEACH
Saturday, was, of course, spent at the beach. Luke and Chrissy have a little angel of their own, Naomi, who is just a little younger than Jonah. So between the two families, we had more than an adequate number of beach toys; but no amount of toys could help me build a sandcastle. My efforts were completely fruitless--each perfect rampart that emerged from my overturned bucket was immediately crushed by Jonahzilla. He did not seem to derive any pleasure from this activity, he just coldly and methodically decimated my every creative attempt. Eventually, I left him to his own devices, and he spent the next ten minutes moving water from one bucket to the other and back using a plastic shovel. He would have gone on longer in this very important endeavor had James not dragged him along to play in the surf.

This was when Jonah found out he loves the ocean. The water there was warmer than it is here in the North, additionally the weather was warmer, thus making the cool water a relief instead of a torture. He giggled and squealed, etc.. It was very cute.


TUB
Back at the house, Chrissy and I decided we were honor-bound to begin the motherly duty of creating and compiling embarrassing blackmail material on our offspring. So up to the tub with babies and cameras we headed.

Jonah was immediately enthralled by the wealth of bath toys (we didn't bring any with us to California, since he is usually quite content to just play with a cup), and promptly turned his back on Naomi. Naomi, however, was dismayed, nonplussed, aghast that there was an intruder in her tub, and that he seemed to be equipped with different parts, as it were. She spent the entire bathtime quietly observing Jonah and looking at us like, "What is this?"


ACCESSORIES
One evening Uncle Luke brought out a riding horse toy for Jonah to try out. Our little monkey hopped right on and thought that life just couldn't get any better. Then Luke plopped a cowboy hat on his head and it did. Jonah loves to wear things: hats, jackets, hoods, the kukui nut lei that James received from co-workers in Hawaii, and those brightly primary-colored plastic stacking rings always end up on his arms. When I told Luke this, he went and got an Angel's wrist sweatband and put on Jonah's arm. It didn't come off. Later, as we were preparing to return home, Uncle Luke said Jonah could keep it. It was the perfect end to our angel weekend.

The Life Aquatic...