friends

Zachary,
You have a friend named Efren. He was Mommy's friend first, but now I think he likes you more than me. Sometimes when we are talking I can totally tell he isn't really listening and then will admit, "sorry, can't focus; staring at baby."

He gave you lots of gifts before you were born, but my personal favorite was this enormous orange and gray striped t-shirt. It hangs in your closet patiently waiting for you to turn five and finally fill it out.
I didn't know what the 5T meant was Efren's defense to the somewhat odd baby shower gift that unapologetically took its place amongst tiny onsies, knit booties, and little pants with waist circumferences that seemed impossible.

One time when I was dropping Efren off after a Bachorlette viewing party (us grads like to get together to watch bad reality TV.....I think it helps us deal with our superior intellect), you were, huge surprise here, screaming your head off in your car seat. Efren cued up Adele on his phone, put in your hand right by your chest, and to my utter surprise, you snuggled up to that smooth deep voice and drifted off to sleep.

When I started to get that familiar itch to create work, and wanted to see if it was possible to have rehearsal with you as choreographer's assistant, Efren was my first dancer guinea pig. We all congregated in the kitchen for our first rehearsal, mixing dancing to Harry Chapin with eating raspberries and showing you how do a proper IMS crawl. (cause we all know what they say about those kids who skip crawling) After we worked until we could work no more, we piled in the car (limo as some call it) and got some donuts.

I don't know how productive the rehearsal was, to be honest you are pretty high maintenance for an assistant, but Efren kept reassuring me that he had nowhere else to be, and that rehearsal could last for an indefinite amount of time. This was reassuring, as a first time Mom I am still clinging to the idea of me as being able to do everything I used to be able to do, and as someone who also just got an MFA in modern dance, I knew exactly where he was coming from with having nothing to do, or nowhere to be.

So Zachary, this is a little story of one of your friends who is good to you. When you and Efren first met he did this really excited enthusiastic animated face that freaked you out to the point of tears. Now a days there aren't any tears when you see each other, which I think is a combination of you getting used his enthusiastic faces and Efren toning it all down a notch.

It is the give and take, the change and acceptance that all good friendships are made of.

sleeping baby

cali pics

This is Z after a beach day. I really think he liked the beach. He has a mixture of avocado and sand on his face.

This is Z empathically explaining to Grandpa Mac why he has suddenly become a Momma's boy. It is a very complex theory.

And this is Z with Grandma W. It was so great to see family.

baby moves

Zachary loves to move. In fact, he never sits still. Clint blames my genetics, and is probably right. A couple nights ago he took a break from his constant twisting and turning and pushing up on his legs and cuddled into my chest. I was thrilled!!! Maybe this was a new chapter and we could sit and snuggle and read books and sing songs and play quiet lap games and just look at each other and smile........and then Zachary lifted his head and vomited chunks of blueberry and breast milk down my shirt. And then he was off to moving and grooving again. And I was off to take a shower.


So this is Z doing some sort of crazy sumo split stretch. He gets his leg too wide, tries to pull himself up to standing, but for obvious reasons has some real difficulties. I vacillate between helping him out and laughing in the background with my camera ready.

One morning he was reaching into the above ottoman and became perfectly perched on the edge, rocking back and forth, on the brink of diving in head first. Again, it was a really hard choice deciding whether to help him out, or to grab the camera. On that particular occasion I decided to help him, a real Mother of the Year moment.

vacation

We recently spent two weeks in Southern California. It was heavenly. No cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and if I (accidentally of course) left my laundry it would magically become washed, dried, and folded to perfection. I feel like I should probably be growing out of this soon (I am going on 30), but there is something so wonderfully refreshing about mooching off of my parents.

And my mom is seriously the best laundry folder. Clint, who is not the most observant type, even noticed her origami underwear masterpieces. While he wistfully stared I threw him a look that said: Don't get any ideas buddy. I'm not that type of girl.

I'm more the Jackson Pollock type with my colors and whites, while my mom is Botticelli or Michelangelo. They both have their merits, right!??






We spent as much time as possible at the beach. Corona Del Mar, Blacks, Scripps, and a night of beach camping at San Onfre. Clint and I rekindled our love of body boarding, and went out several times while kind family members watched Z snooze on the shore, or try and eat sand.




It was so fun to be out with Clint catching waves---I felt like we were eighteen again. We rode a wave together and then he reached over and held my hand...totally something out of a Zac Efren movie. We finally came to terms that there is no beach,and no waves in Utah, and so we left our wetsuits and fins in California for next time. I cannot wait. I love being out there.

Surfing the Big One

HATS

I was intrigued by all the wild, high fashion hats at the royal wedding. What is the process/evolution of taking something super functional like a hat (blocks the sun and hides a frizzy head of hair when lazy) and rendering it completely useless?

It begs the question, what makes a hat a hat? Is it its purpose and functionality, or is a hat simply anything that rests atop a head?

Zachary too has been grappling with these same questions. He asks, If a hat can be a completely useless object that sits on the head, why can't the everyday object serve as this accessory?

Here Zachary explores the hat as everyday object with the lid to a Cafe Rio Pork Salad with pinto beans, and yes please the creamy house dressing.

And here Zachary wears the top of a chicken burrito with black beans and mild salsa. At first he thought that maybe the lid was wearing him, but ultimately said I am fabulous and went for it.

And here Zachary pays homage to the source of all these musings with a very English tip of the hat and Top of the morning to you, Cheerio my lady.