Liner Notes 5/7

Revi climbed her first stair over the weekend. She's been following me around the house like a snake and yesterday I went up a stair so she went and pulled herself up and BAM, was suddenly... up... a stair.

I cheered, "hooray!" before thinking, oh fuck, because, oh fuck.

Bo is still moving rather slowly. She gets up on her knees, crawls a couple of paces and then flops back on her belly. It's all very slo-mo and not at all intimidating.

Revi? Is terrifying.

She's the fastest army crawler in town and she is FEAR. LESS. I need to have eyes on her at all times, which wouldn't be a problem if there wasn't another baby that needs to be supervised. I'm going to need to purchase a corral, apparently? Then again, Revi would clearly find a way to climb out of one. She is THAT child.  (I didn't even have to childproof the house with Archer and Fable because they never got into anything. Maybe because they were such late crawlers and had matured past the rebellion stage?)

I don't even know what I'm going to do once Bo picks up the pace and starts running her own amok.

"NYC"

Babies take Manhattan

In other baby news, Revi got TWO new teeth this week. TWO whole teeth!

Bo, on the other hand, is still my toothless wonder.

"huh?"

This week I got to enjoy some major dental work because of a stupid almond which I chipped my tooth on, like, two years ago. I took a picture of my giant numb lip post tooth-sanding-down-fire-mouth because I thought it looked awesome and went on to spend spend my day making faces at myself in strangers' sunglasses. Because, come on. It's not every day one gets to spend the day with
numb, swollen
lustrous, pillowy lips. 

Of course, two hours later they were back to being their normal selves. That's okay. They'll put my crown on next week and then I'll get to experience another day in paradise. I'm so pumped.

We drove home from San Diego last night. We were there for the weekend to attend my friend, Theresa's wedding. Theresa, who I've known since I was six. She was Fable's age when we became next door neighbors and for more than a decade was like my little sister. I taught her to ride a bike and swim and every weekend we would make music videos to our favorite songs. (I once chained her to a chair for a lovely rendition of Duran Duran's. I was the "man". I was always the man in our music videos. And our homemade commercials for Levis. (She'd hit a pile of jeans with a baseball bat as I narrated, "Levis jeans. The only jeans you can't beat". Except for some reason, I had an Australian accent? And spoke in a low man voice. Because... that was what... I did.)

Anyway. We had an incredible childhood together but of course, as one often does, we lost touch over the years. I hadn't seen Theresa in years. I hadn't seen her brother in nearly a decade. Her brother who was my first kiss, my first love and heartbreak, the boy who launched a thousand Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul stories and arguably, my career.

So when the music swelled and B.Jay (Bart as he's now called) came smiling down the aisle, I burst into tears. Not because I hadn't long recovered from the heartache of my youth but on the contrary. I had long recovered. It has been years since I loved him. And in a way, for a moment, I missed that feeling. Of being young and mortifyingly naive. I missed having a best friend who lived next door and how we'd spend the summer in wet bathing suits, playing Marco Polo well into the night as the pool lights illuminated our chlorine stained hair.

As she came around the aisle, arm in arm with her dad, I lost it. For obvious reasons, her beauty, happiness, the look on her father's face, but perhaps, selfishly, I also cried for us. For change and how different we used to be. How simple. How young. How the last time I attended a wedding with Theresa, it was for our Barbies.

At the reception, buzzed from the cocktail hour, makeup smeared from the ceremony, I went to find her and with tears in our eyes we hugged and sang Come Undone at the top of our late twenty-something early-thirty-something lungs. Except this time? I didn't tie her to a chair with my bike chain.

She has someone in her life (far more handsome than I) to play the man in her music videos. Godspeed to both of them. May their life together be full of love, laughter... and dancing children.

GGC