The Raw Diet (With Modifications)...

Here's the story, people. Remember how I lost all that baby weight? Yeah, me too...good times. Well, I can't run so much right now because I hurt my hip (side note: I've been running a looooong time and I ALWAYS get hurt. Its like my body knows how much running sucks) and as a result that weight has been creeping back little by little. I'm not like the mom from "What's Eating Gilbert Grape" or anything...in fact, I'm still pre-Finn weight...but its a pride thing.

So, being the super grown up, responsible adult that I am I decided to go on a raw food diet. You know, where all you eat are uncooked vegetables and fruits and stuff. That one. Sounds gassy, doesn't it?

Here's how good I am at even considering diets.

My thought bubble: "Raw food diet! Except at breakfast...and dinner...and possibly dessert...Yeah. That sounds good."

Basically, I need to right a diet book titled, "Have a Salad for Lunch and Call it Good"

I think there is a market for that. Lazy dieters...also known as 90% of all dieters, I'm sure.

Anywho, today I was all pumped up and ready to go. Salad materials had been bought and I had an apple for breakfast. A raw apple at that! But then my brother offered me macaroni and cheese for lunch and I couldn't help myself. And then we went to the bookstore and I got a cookie. And then a Chai tea. And then I decided to start tomorrow.

You think that's bad dieting? I also brainstormed ideas for expanding the foods I could eat on this raw foods diet. They include: Raw cookie dough, raw cake/brownie batter, raw cheesecake batter...the list goes on but you get the point. Best diet ever? Yes. But, shamefully, that officially makes me:

The. Worst. Dieter. Ever.


NOT me :)

Recent Conversations...

We're still going at this "Crying it Out" business...or as I like to call it, "Letting Finn Discover Himself While Alone In a Dark Room While I Turn Up The TV to Drown Out His Wailing". And it seems to still be working its sleeping magic on the wee one. Last night he hardly cried at all before he passed out on his stuffed bulldog with his arms wrapped around its neck. Cuteness. And then he slept until 730. Shuper shweet.

Anywho, he's a little reticent to "Discover Himself" (I think he needs a self-help book but there seems to be a gap in that market) and as a result the poor guy is gettin' a little clingy. Here's how our recent conversations go:

Me: "Hey Finn, I'm going to go do my makeup so you just stay here and play...mmmmk?"

Finn: "Nooooo....you're going to leave me to cry for half an hour like you always dooooo! Heeeeelp" *dials protective services on his play phone*

Me: "Nope. I'm just going to go into the bathroom"

Finn: "Wait for me! I'm coming with you!" *Madly crawls after me to the bathroom....sees the bathmat and proceeds to try and eat it before I notice*

Me: "Ugh. Gross"


Thank goodness I found you!

But with all this separation anxiety I use it to make him follow me around everywhere instead of carrying him so that he gets more exercise. I'm like the Jillian Michaels of moms. Seriously.

And he also claps and waves at anyone who comes into the room. Its so cute that my heart is all melty. And he's also eating finger foods like a boss. And now you know. Update complete.

We've Got A Mess On Our Hands...

...and legs...and arms...and feet.

Confession: I am as white as a ghost. Or as white as the flag I used to surrender my tan when I moved to Utah.

Confession: I hate tanning booths because since losing my tan I burn like a lobster.

Confession: I HATE being pale.

I seriously used to have the darkest tan possible for a white chick. Running + Stables+ tank tops and shorts= Brown Brittany.

But I digress...frustrated with all the aforementioned confessions I headed to Walmart and bought my self some self tanner...thinking it would both work its magic AND be easy to apply.

Wrong answer, Brittany...wrong freaking answer.

It would be different if I could see what I was doing...but the damn lotion doesn't dry for like, 12 hours (aka right before I'm about to leave the house), and only then will it reveal what a mess you made of yourself. Thanks a lot L'Oreal Sublime Bronze....thanks a lot.

So, as a result, I currently look like a blotchy oompa loompa. Thank goodness my hair isn't green because Willy himself would be here in a heartbeat to take me away.

Not that I wouldn't mind living in a chocolate factory, though...

Anyway, lesson learned: You can't fake what you don't got. Or used to have. Or dream of having.


Yup, that's my leg.


And those are my toes. Apparently, unbeknown to me, it dripped.


And that's my arm. Sigh. Fail on EVERY part of my body...

Nothing And No One Is Safe...

Finn seems to have come to the same famous answer as George Mallory to the question "Why do you climb Mt. Everest?" ("Because it's there.") Though, for Finn it seems to apply to climbing up every piece of furniture in the household as well. Because it's there. And don't think you're safe because you're not furniture. Nope. Those hands grabbing your leg isn't that creepy guy from work...its just Finn.

Oh heeeey...

He's a real Edmund Hillary, this one...enough Everest jokes? Not possible!

The couch and people were just fine in my books...no biggie. But now the crib. WHY THE CRIB?! Like I didn't have enough to worry about at night (Eight months into it and I STILL go and check to make sure he's breathing. Paranoia or vigilant parenting? I'll let you decide)...but hey, if he wants to make a break for it and find a better place to sleep where, you know, he'll actually sleep. Fine by me, Finn. Fine by me. In any case, this is what I walked in on during quiet time today:

We even lowered the mattress down 2 holes...oy vey.

(On a side note, we've started the "Crying it Out" method at night and it seems to be working. But I'm ever wary of anything that promises me sleep by this point.)

And that's the newest developments around here...Exciting? Riveting? Pulse pounding adventures at every turn?! You know it!

On (another) side note, you know you have an exciting life full of blog-worthy material when your husband emails you and says, "You should write about my belly button lint in your next post." That actually happened.

Seriously though, its a wonder any of his shirts have thread left in the belly button area, I can tell you that much. Its like his belly button needs lint to sustain itself.

And on that note... :)

Eating Books...

Every Tuesday me and the madre make our way down to Borders to read the magazines (without buying them! Shhhh!) and drink some coffee/chai tea...thankfully our location shift to the west coast has not proven a shift in our routine. Oh no...no, no, no. That would be tragic.

Except this was the first time we let Finn lose out in the kids section. He had a freakin' blast. Brightly colored books to chew on? Check. Ample crawling space to explore in? Check. Perfectly heighted chairs to pull up on? You betcha. Plus, it was good exercise for the kid...even if we were disturbing the sparse amount of people who wandered by. This is Orange County after all...people get disturbed easily...especially if there's someone (literally) drooling over the merchandise.

This post is more for Luke who has been missing out on these things for the past week and a half; but in any case, here are some picturas of the lil' man burning his way through the bookstore. P.S. The lighting makes it look like he has red hair...never fear, Luke, he has not turned into a ginger since we left...phew! :)

lookin' all scholarly and stuff

pullin' himself up like the stud muffin he is...

Ocho!

That's right, EIGHT months OLD. The most depressing part about this isn't that Finn is one month closer to the big 1-2 but that I honestly, really and truly can't go around using the "I just had a baby excuse"...yeah, I probably hit that place a few months back but hey, I milked it :)

Its actually quite surprising/amusing/alarming how much this boy learns how to do in just one month. For all y'all that care out there here's the run down:

He went from making primitive guttural "noises" to a constant flow of ra-ra-ra-ba-ba-ba-la-da-ba...he's a regular Paul McCartney in the making because next its going to be ob-la-di-ob-la-da. I'm sure of it.

And then there's the crawling. Oh, the much anticipated crawling. I fondly remember writing a few posts ago about how he'd mastered the hands-and-knees big boy crawling and was going from point A to point B...well a week changes things and now we're going from point A to B to C to D and through the alaphabet...We'll be to Z by next week. I really am excited about it (I swear!) but I didn't realize how greatly it would limit my already limited freedom...like, I can't even walk out of the room because in T-minus 2 seconds he'll be chewing on wires or something equally as dangerous in the next room.

And now he's pulling himself up on furniture...at this rate I'm going to be sleeping in his room by nextweek to make sure he doesn't make a break for it out of his crib at 2am.

Sigh. Life.

Still no teeth, though. I'm gonna be putting his birthday cake in a blender, I just know it.

And for the finale, he can now hold his bottle by himself!...with one hand!...while holding his foot in the other! Talented boy. At this rate he's going to be prattling off the first 100th digits of Pi by next month :)

Count 'Em....

100 posts, baby! I'm gonna venture a guess that the majority of those 100 blog posts are about the little man screaming in front of me (its naptime and he's not taking it well...) But hey, whatever. I love him. You love him. Everybody wins.

So, in a departure from my usual Finn-related posts...here's a celebratory Napoleonic Panda...enjoy!: