Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The House

For Sale: 1800-sq. ft. Victorian Co-Op Apartment. 2 bedrooms. 1 bath. River View. You know you want it.
Most rooms recently painted. Crown moulding throughout. Baby toys scattered throughout not included. Unless you want to clean them up twice a day.

Living room.

Bedroom. Currently used as nursery... obviously.


View.



Kitchen. Appliances included. To the right, butler's pantry and dining room. Through the door in the center is a laundry room that was originally the "servant's quarters."


Inner Stairwell. 3rd floor.


Front entry and hallway to dining room. Notice the hardwood floors throughout.
Husband doing dishes in the kitchen not included. Sorry, he comes with me.

Dining room. Cat not included.


Where the magic happens. Room proven to increase fertility. Fantastic river view and built-ins.


Said built-ins.
If anyone knows anyone looking to buy something like this, give me a holler!

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

The end of an era. The curls.

So, for some reason, Owen started pulling his hair out on the right side of his head. I have no idea why. Just started twisting his finger in his curls as he sucked his thumb, and then pulled out what he had twisted. It was just confusing at first. Through last week I started getting worried, as we would find him with clumps of hair in his hands. In exactly a week, this is what he had done to himself:
I started to freak out, thinking he has Trichotillomania, where people feel compelled to pull all their hair out. It's a type of compulsive disorder. It can present as early as one. His pediatrician said to only let them know if he reacts like he's in pain or if he is fussy all day. He seems fine otherwise. So, with a heavy heart... we decided to get his hair cut, ugh.
We figured, if his hair was short enough, there wouldn't be anything to pull out. If you know me, you know how attached I was to these curls.
I think Owey was pretty attached to them as well. He didn't like the poor girl cutting his hair. He did pretty well though, didn't squirm too much. I sobbed through the whole thing. I sobbed when I sat in the drivers seat of our car to leave, and I turned around to look at him, and he's rubbing his hands all over his head as if to say, "Where did my hair go??" Clint had to drive. Owen and I were crying too hard.

The only remedy was vanilla soft serve.
And a trip to the playground.
















He's still adorable.
But I miss the curls :( I kept them all in a baggy for his baby book. There is no way I would have cut it if he hadn't pulled out half of his hair. He had the right side of a mohawk down.
Stay tuned for more exciting updates.