Getting Geared up for Baby

My good friend Elissa came over yesterday to review her baby registry and to figure out what to buy for the arrival of her son come February. And, not until she filled a legal pad of paper with two columns of stuff, did I realize that holy cow there's so much to buy for a kiddo. For a newbie on the scene it is an overwhelming task. It got me thinking about my preparation for Lillie. Beyond the bottles, nipples, pumps and so forth the best gifts I received and the things I use most were not the practical items.

Expecting parents certainly need all of the gear that comes with bringing life into the world. I'm sure my mom thinks I'm crazy for having a wipe warmer, bottle warmer, diaper genie, vibrating chair, automatic swing, all the things that they didn't have when we were growing up. Honestly, it makes things easier and gets you through those tough first weeks. But, the things I cherish most beyond my conveniences are those gifts that last longer, have more personality and show a little love. This is why we started Two Blue Peas.

Sarah and I hope that friends and family can go beyond the Babies r Us registry and find that one item that a little pea will keep forever. A sweet duck lovie, monogrammed blanket, or precious outfit that can be past down to a sibling. I know it seems like shameless self promotion, but it truly is why we do what we do. So, the next time you are standing at our friend the big box shop, think about Two Blue Peas and how much Mother's appreciate that one special item given with love.

Mama Needs a Vodka

After hearing the gory details of Helen’s 24-hour labor and my sister-in-law’s cracked tailbone/vacuum extraction extravaganza, I’m officially terrified of childbirth. I know, I know, most mommies you talk to a year after their experience will say it’s all worth it and you eventually forget about the pain, agree to take off your imaginary chastity belt and jump back in the sack with your pleading husband. I guess I’ll just have to feel it to believe it. Whoo whoo, heeeee. Whoo, whoo, heeeee. Kill me now please.

If you didn’t hear the story yesterday, brace yourself for a real nookie annihilater. A 43-year-old Russian woman gave birth to her 12th child. Not just her 12th child, but her 17 pound, 1 ounce bundle and a half of joy. And the first 11 siblings weighed in at 11 pounds or more. I guess they sure know how to grow ‘em in Russia. Note to self: when finally pregnant, lay off the potatoes and stroganoff.

Thank goodness for that poor woman’s nether regions it was a cesarean section. But birth aside, I can’t imagine what it’s like to tote around a 17 pound bowling ball in your belly while caring for 11 other needy kiddos.

I always pictured our family to have 2 children – like mine growing up – or maybe 3 if we’re feeling brave. I have no interest whatsoever in creating (much less birthing!) my own little community. Although I have to admit, her older children probably serve as great built-in babysitters, diaper changers and carpool drivers.

How do we get this woman on the Two Blue Peas pea-mail list? At the rate she’s going, we could survive on her baby showers alone.

Bachelor Brad

If you are a trashy reality TV watcher, just like me, you will know that the new season of The Bachelor on ABC started this past Monday. I usually watch this show, begrudgingly, because I have a tiny little hope that these people are really looking for love in a world where its hard to find the right person. But, come on really, are they going to meet "the one" on TV and in 6 weeks - probably not.

This season I am especially invested because Bachelor Brad's identical twin is my neighbor. Yes, you read that right. I am one door down from a reality TV star's brother. Not only his brother, but his IDENTICAL twin. If you did catch the episode on Monday you will have noticed that they are just a little gorgeous. I am sad that my neighbor and I share lawn service and I don't get to see the twin out there every so often working up a sweat. Sorry, honey, no offense, you are equally as gorgeous outside and in, love of my life. But, really, they're a good looking pair.

The best part about the Bachelor's twin living next door, is that I can get the real scoop on what happens. I will be hanging outside more just to see if I can catch Chad or his beautiful wife long enough probe them with questions. And, find out if Brad has actually found the love of his life. Or, if its just one big PR scheme. Secretly, I hope he does find someone, because they are by far the nicest most genuine people on the planet. And, I'm not just saying that in case they read my blog. :)

Listen Up, Humidity Haters

My once beloved, bathroom-drawer-dedicated, never-travel-without-it flat iron was laid to its final rest about a year ago. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been part of the stick-straight or die brigade whose motto was something along the lines of: “If it ain’t smokin’, it ain’t straight enough”.

Maybe the lazys kicked in with my new work-from-home situation. Sorry Dear, I promise I’ll start wearing makeup again one of these days. Or perhaps I just became comfortable in my own skin – I guess I mean, hair. Either way, I finally decided to embrace my God-given waves and find a way to work with them rather than battle against them every day.

Partly due to the lack of makeup, but mostly due to the lack of knowledge on how to tame my tresses, I looked like something my husband pulled out of the gutter. I tried going to sleep with it damp, diffusing it, braiding it, you name it. I’m under control now and feeling more fabulously bohemian than ever, but the first few months of my newfound lock love would have been a lot easier had I known about the ladies over at www.naturallycurly.com.

These two curly Sues wanted to create a place where others could come celebrate their likely hated-since-childhood ringlets. I’m not saying you won’t still have the occasional bad hair day when the humidity spikes to 90% and you’re headed for an outdoor Saturday afternoon wedding. They’re not magicians. But I bet they can offer a better solution than finding the right brown paper bag to match your dress.

Naturallycurly.com offers tips and product suggestions by curl and hair type, down-to-earth columns by real women and huge communities to connect with others. Turns out there’s at least 25,000 others in the same boat trying to wrangle their waves into a style they can feel good about – as they should!

So before you go shave it all off Britney style, check out www.naturallycurly.com. I bet they can talk you out of it.

Off she goes...

Teetering between her father and I, Lillie took her first official steps as a toddler this weekend. She had taken 2 or 3 in between us before, but that was mostly lunging and falling. She has been getting more and more comfortable with walking, but this was the first time it was deliberate and intentional. My insides were shouting, "Hallelujah, I'm a parenting success!" Of course since those glorious moments, the only walking she has done is with me holding her hands. Which, by the way, is starting to really give me back aches.

I had heard of walking wings before, but never thought twice about it. Now, I think I'm going to reconsider. Crawling has become secondary mode of transportation next to walking with assistance. And, honestly, if its going to be 3 more weeks until she's independent and not walking like a drunken sailor, I think I'll need my own walker.

For all you parents bending over 8 hours of every day, here is the product for you: http://www.onestepahead.com/catalog/product.jsp?productId=488759&parentCategoryId=85183&categoryId=85215&subCategoryId=86204
I know, I know, it looks like a kiddie leash and it is in the same category as those horrible restraints, but this one promotes freedom and exploration doesn't hinder it. My mom-friends swear by it, and I think I'm going to have to throw down the $24.95 on it and save the $100 masseuse visit!

So, fingers crossed Lillie overcomes her falling fears and starts to really cruise. And, I can feel like a parenting success for longer than just a brief moment, bad back and all.

She's Crafty

It’s one thing to run your own business. As much as I love it – and I mean LOVE it – I won’t deny Two Blue Peas is a lot of work. I’ve certainly spent a fair share of my Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday… nights this year cropping images and (over) analyzing stats on how our little site is measuring up to the competition. But it’s a completely different ball of wax to actually create the products you sell as well.

When we first set out to find the hippest, most unique baby goods out there to carry at Two Blue Peas, we made sure we obviously included some of the big hitters. After all, moms tend to gravitate toward what they know and trust. They have enough balls in the air as it is without worrying about testing the latest “it” thing on the market. But being mompreneurs ourselves, it was very important to us that we still look a little harder to dig up other undiscovered work-at-home moms trying to make it in the biz.

To our pleasant surprise, finding these amazing ladies was not the tough part. The real chore was forcing ourselves to practice restraint and not blow our entire budget on kitschy, irresistibly-cute thingamabobs. We were overwhelmed by how many brilliant artists were channeling their creativity to what was relevant in their lives at the time – their little ones. Now I’m no David Hasselhoff, but I’ll go on the record any day to say these gals have got talent!

Lucky for us (and for you!), we were finally able to whittle our wish list down to what we think are the best of the best. All handmade with love – and probably some blood, sweat, tears, drool and spit-up – here’s our picks for the top female/entrepreneur/wife/artist/mom-made goods on the market:

Hilary and her Lilly Bean Play Food – Ridiculously clever, adorable and poor table manners-proof felt food. Our favorite dish? The felt sushi set (pictured above).

Norah and her Sheriff Peanut designs – Vintage-inspired, quirky laminated bibs (to protect baby’s Two Blue Peas duds of course). The piggy is the favorite at our table.

Christina and her cuddly Cuddlebee™ bib/burp sets – Fashionably practical sets that are a sure fire hit at baby showers. They monogram beautifully.

Kudos ladies! You could certainly run circles around us, and probably all while pureeing your own baby food and hosting this week’s play group. We’re proud to partner with you and can’t wait to meet more of your kind…

Herbie the Love Bug

My mom and stepdad made it down for the 1st birthday celebration with a large wrapped box in tow. I wondered what kind of present this could be, Lillie has practically every large toy we can think of. At the party with the frenzy of present opening going on, we unwrapped the large box. To my surprise it was a red plastic buggy that little ones ride in and parents push along. I had never seen this one before, it looks like a red version of Herbie the Love Bug, big googly eyes and all.

We took Lillie on her first ride in the neighborhood and it was giggles and smiles the whole time. She held on tight to the steering wheel, sat up straight and had the breeze in your hair and proudly waved hi to every person or car she could. I thought this is genius! We have a little Mario Andriette on our hands. And, we've just made walks around the block one hundred times more fun than that plain ole stroller.

Flash forward to day three and four of the buggy. I made the mistake of parking Lillie's first car in our foyer for easy access. Admittedly her stroller was in my trunk, so this was our mode of transportation for walks, because I am too lazy to get the darn thing out of my boot. Anyway, my little one has become obsessed. If we're playing in the house, she is sitting in that buggy ready for me to take her on a ride. She practiced for about half an hour yesterday getting in and out of the buggy on her own. Which she mastered, smart child, I know. If she goes out of site for more than a minute, I can walk to the front of the house and there she is sitting her buggy ready to go.

Lillie and I highly recommend this little love bug for walks. But, please take my advice and store the darn thing in the garage. Or else you'll become a personal in-house taxi service with child in buggy. And, there are only so many routes around the living room and kitchen, and they usually don't even leave a tip.

Paging Dr. Crocker

Of course my husband and I are sick. At a ripe old 28, maybe we’re getting too old for three straight days of scorching heat, brain-thumpingly loud music and 3 A.M. Mac and Cheese snacks with our weekend houseguests. “Houseguests”. That makes them sound so tame. What about getting together with the old college roommates makes us think we’re 19 again and have the stamina to party like its 1999? (Yes, I’m embarrassed to say that’s a direct Prince reference.)

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t trade this time for anything in the world. Until it actually kills me, I plan to keep hitting the Austin City Limits Music Festival every year together just as we have the 5 before. Thank God for the work-at-home schedule a la Two Blue Peas and for my trusty, cure-all tortilla soup recipe.

I can’t believe I’m about to do this – for two reasons actually. Firstly, because this recipe is my secret (read: easy) weapon. I cook it for sick friends, brand new parents and hung-over houseguests. Secondly because this must mean I’ve crossed some sort of rite of passage into true womanhood. I’m swapping recipes for Pete’s sake. What’s next? Wednesday night bunko and wine spritzers?

I guess it’s worth it if any of you are sick or even just looking for a tasty recipe to spice up your chicken with wild rice rut. I can't take full credit though. It’s a Betty Crocker original with my own Texas twist. Bon appétit, ya'll…

1 T vegetable oil
1 c chopped onion
2 cloves finely chopped garlic
3 c chicken broth
2 T chopped fresh cilantro
2 T lime juice
1 t ground cumin
½ t dried oregano
¼ t Tabasco sauce
¼ t salt
1 can lime and cilantro Rotel
1 can white corn
1 can great northern beans
1 can navy beans
½ c chopped squash
2 c shredded (cooked) chicken breast

Cook onions and garlic in heated oil over medium heat until tender. Stir in remaining ingredients except chicken and heat to boiling. Reduce and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes. Add chicken and simmer 5 more minutes. Top each bowl with cheese, tortilla chips and fresh cilantro. Then kiss girlhood goodbye for making a recipe someone posted on their blog.

Footed Jammies Make Me Smile

There is nothing sweeter than a baby in a footed jammie. You can take the the most ornery of children put some footed jammies on them and your heart just melts. They fit so snugly that there little bellies poke out and squishy diaper butts balance the belly. And, their chubby little legs look like something on a pixie, thin with a funny socked foot. It's probably one of the highlights of my morning watching Lillie teeter around in her footed jammies.

Footed jammies come in many styles and Two Blue Peas happens to have some of the cutest ones. Weather is getting cooler and covering those toes at night is important stuff. My favorites are the Cars and Trucks jammies by Kumquat, Pixel footies by Zutano and Goldfish Kimono jammies by Kumquat (pictured here). Adult pajamas could only wish to be so fun.

So, next time your little one has got you at your wits end. Throw some footed jammies on that kiddo and I promise you can't help but smile.

Keep On Rockin' In the Free World

Technically its not actually free. I pay dearly the other 362 days a year by eating many a TV dinner alone and sometimes going to bed curled up with Django (who, on the bright side, is softer and takes up a lot less space in bed) instead of Kevin. Thankfully the hefty price comes with a pretty big reward. While poor Kevin is running around for three days like a roasted chicken in the sweltering heat trying to make sure the Austin City Limits Music Festival is everything festival goers dreamed it would be, I’m basking in the shade with my fancy little spouse wristband that grants me access to a musical experience unlike most fans could ever imagine.

First there are the portable restrooms. Yes, restrooms. Not the blue water, squatting room only port-o-potties of yesteryear. These things are air-conditioned, have floor-to-ceiling private stall doors, hardwood floors, running water and a mirror to check my smile for any free catered food that might have gotten caught in my teeth.

Then there’s the hottest, or shall I say coolest, commodity in the park – abundant shade. Unfortunately for the 65,000 other brave patrons, Austin’s Zilker Park is practically devoid of trees. If I start to break a sweat while rocking out to the Indigo Girls from the front row, I can head off to a private oasis of trees, misting fans and an endless supply of ice cold water.

The biggest reward of all though is when Kevin finds the time to sneak away from his duties long enough to take me on stage and hold my hand while we witness the sights and sounds of what makes this stressful time so very worth it. As a diehard music-loving couple, few things top seeing our favorites perform live from such an incredible vantage point. Add to that a blissful crowd, a beautiful sunset and an Austin skyline backdrop, and suddenly the occasional night alone with Django and a Lean Cuisine doesn’t seem half bad.

1 Year and Nostalgic or Hormonal, One of the Two

This weekend we will be celebrating Miss Lillian Grace's first birthday. It has been an amazing year - becoming a mother, raising this little person, hoping she survives despite my craziness. And, even though I have smothered her with love and kisses, tried to hold her every minute of the day, she has learned to eat, talk, crawl, play and very soon walk. She's growing up and certainly becoming an independent toddler.

I have found myself getting very nostalgic thinking about this time last year when we went to the hospital to bring this little person into the world. What a struggle that 24 hour labor was and how much I went through to get her in my and her dad's arms. And, I think about how my mom must feel the same way about me every birthday year. If only we had this insight about our mothers when we're 13, 14, 20.

I'm not sure how I did it. And, I'm certainly not special, millions of mothers make it through the first year just as I did. But, what an amazing sense of accomplishment I have. A smiley, happy, healthy little girl who loves to say "cheese". What more could a girl ask for?

Wii like it a lot

OK, so Cy came home the other night with a sheepish grin and a bag from Circuit City. Now, this isn't the first time things like this have happened in my house, but since we have the ridiculously enormous flat screen TV, Xbox, DVD, computers, etc I couldn't quite figure out what he had purchased. He brought home something that I hadn't heard of before a Nintendo Wii. For those of you that are not hip on all the gadgety stuff, like myself, this is Nintendo's new gaming system that is much more interactive than the regular joystick of old (yes, I'm referencing Atari, that's how hip I am).

Nintendo Wii has a remote that you hold in your hand and just with the motion of your arm you can play tennis, bowling, golf and boxing. Sounds like fun, but I have to give it the cold shoulder because its just another electronic toy in our house. Do we really need this right now, probably not.

I watch as he happily sets it up that evening making emoticons, ok that's kind of fun, and gets his first game going. Trying not to be interested, because I can't support this behavior, I watch as he swings his arms around, jumps, laughs and makes a fool of himself. Could it be that this looks like actual fun? I really don't like video games at all, but shoot, I'm going to have to try. Round 1 tennis. I'm a pro. Must be all those lessons my stepdad paid for back in the day. Round 2 bowling. Again, I'm an ace! If only my friends could see me now.

After working up a little sweat, I couldn't show too much excitement, or else we'd end up with every gaming console known to man. However, I have to admit Sarah and I found ourselves playing tennis and golf the next day. We won't tell Cy, but I think he found a winner this time.

Home Sweet Hotel

I love crisp white linens, bleachy-fresh towels and a constant supply of fun little shampoo samples as much as the next guest. Guest being the operative word here. But usually by about day 5 of the world’s tiniest coffee pot, $19.00 room service cheeseburgers and the must-be honeymooners next door, I’m ready to pack up my suitcase and head back to the homestead.

Well how about 5 plus 7,295 days, give or take a few? I just read a story about a British couple in their 70s that’s been calling a Travelodge hotel “home” for the past 20 or so years. Talk about a hefty bill at checkout. At first I thought this was just hilarious. I started picturing the Mrs. slowly working her own doilies and homemade potpourri into the room’s décor, and the Mr. passed out on the lobby sofa watching old Matlock reruns.

But then I realized these looney old lovebirds might just be onto something. We’re talking the Travelodge here, right? It can’t be more than $75 a night. And I bet there’s some sort of discount offered for booking multiple night stays... say, 20 years.

In my hefty mortgage is included, well nothing really. Just the humble abode and the grass my husband has to mow. There’s no maid at my beck and call to bring fresh towels and sheets. The breakfast is not continental, and has to be cooked by yours truly. Our electricity bill is through the roof and the garbage is only picked up once a week. And never once have I come home to a magically made bed with a mint on each pillow.

All these things together plus a free gym and pool membership, not to mention an onsite watering hole, make for a pretty sweet deal. Honey, I think its time we went house – er, I mean Inn – hunting.

Every Little Thing He Does is Magic

My husband is quite dreamy, but I’m actually talking about my new boy on the side, Mr. Clean. Gold hoop earring, white t-shirt, shiny bald head and all – I’m completely smitten. With seven guests on their way to my house this weekend (that’s 9 butts total and only 2 bathrooms), it’s time to break out the supplies and start the scrub-a-thon.

I have a confession to make, Mom. That Mr. Clean Magic Eraser you sent me 6 months ago has been collecting – not cleaning – dust under the kitchen sink since I pulled it out of the box. Every time I reach for my tried-and-true cleaners, I pass right over it and think to myself that I need to throw the stupid thing away. Being the skeptic I am, I assumed like any other product labeled “magic”, this one would be no exception to the infomercial rule. It was sure to be a totally over dramatized, overpriced, too-good-to-be-true flop right? Boy was I wrong. And magic is actually an understatement. This thing should officially be named the 8th wonder of the world.

I started with the soap scum in the shower. Round 1, Magic Eraser. Then I moved onto the wall scratches caused by sloppy vacuuming. Round 2, Magic Eraser. That one was too easy. Alright Mr. Clean, how about the baked-on, flame kissed, black as night spatters of old spaghetti sauce on my white stove? I’ve tried everything in the books to remove them – bleach… Brillo pads… you name it. The stains at least fought back on this one, but in the end it was no match. Round 3, Magic Eraser.

Run out and get one (or use the one your mom sent you) and by all means let me know if you find something it can’t obliterate. In the meantime, I’ll be writing to Mr. Clean asking when I can expect to see a beauty version that will magically erase my crows feet and stretch marks. I’ll keep you posted.

Kumquat, Not Just a Small Citrus Fruit

I like clever names for retail lines, companies, products. I can't help it, I am as you know a blue pea not a green one. There's something about the clever, less obvious name that makes me smile and think...now that is smart. You could name your adorable baby clothes line, Cutie Patootie Clothes, or you could go for something fresh and different.

Enter our good friends at Kumquat. A truly adorable children's line that certainly keeps up with its name. A Kumquat, as you may or may not know, is a small citrus fruit. And this line is made for small people that like to keep it fresh ( aha cleverness made apparent). Kimono tops, bloomers, tees with great graphics and cargo pants, this line does not disappoint.

For being loyal readers and to give you a treat for putting up with Sarah's and my blabbering, we're offering 25% off everything Kumquat! Just enter coupon code Kumquat (not a clever coupon code, I realize this but Lillie didn't nap today so I have an excuse) in the coupon/e-gift card section and voila extra savings for you.

Cheers to a clever name and to a great line of clothes! Check them out here:
www.twobluepeas.com/m-23-kumquat.aspx

A new Chief of Fashion Police?

Let me start by saying that I don’t condone young ladies wearing skirts shorter than the ones sold at Two Blue Peas. And heaven knows how much I loathe the whole thong above the ultra low rise jeans thing. But is it really anyone else’s business to lecture a 23 year old woman on proper dress for flying the evidently not so “friendly skies”?

In case you’ve been buried under a floor-length skirt and turtleneck all day, Southwest Airlines pulled a passenger from a flight because her outfit was too revealing. Sure her choice of clothes was not the first thing I personally would have grabbed from my closet to wear all day on a plane, but I bet something I’ve worn at one time or another has made someone else think the same thing.

That’s beside the point. Since when was Chief of Fashion Police added to the SWA employee roster? Unless someone’s fashion faux pas is directly threatenting my family’s safety, I’d prefer flight attendants and airport staff stick to the really important stuff. Say, checking to make sure all my 1 oz tubes of lip gloss are securely packaged in a Ziploc bag. Or practicing the monologue of cheesy pre-flight air jokes that threatens the safety of my sense of humor.

P.S. – Last time I checked, high-waisted pleated khaki shorts paired with a collared polo shirt is a direct violation.

Best Friends

I think there is nothing better in the entire world than best friends. The person you can tell anything, share your thoughts, dreams and goals without judgement. Make laugh, cry, think, believe and promise. I love my best friends, they make being me so much better. Big shout outs to Eeimee, Say-rah & Duey.

Guide Me, Timmy

September. Time to pack up the white capris, to hand my husband over to Kirk Herbstreit and the ESPN boys, and to make my schedule for the Fall sweeps lineup. There are a handful of newbies I’m looking forward to checking out, but few shows have me even remotely as giddy this season as Tim Gunn’s Guide to Style. After last year’s melodramatic and predictable – don’t even get me started on the sci-fi afterlife episode disaster – Grey’s Anatomy, I think I’m ready to hand in my scrubs for a more polished look.

Project Runway may very well be the greatest show ever created (hey, I never said I wasn’t melodramatic), but if I have to wait another month to hear Tim Gun tell the up-and-coming designers to “make it work!” in season four, I’ll settle for watching Mr. fabulous go to town on eight lucky women seeking his guidance in fine tuning their own personal style.

Aside from making us smile with his adorable little accent, perfectly pressed designer suits and almost frustratingly polite constructive criticism, it sounds like he’s going to teach us how to find our inner style, how to shop and how to find the right fit, plus tell us the ten pieces our closets should not be without. You think my schleppy grey jogging pants are somewhere on that list?

Move over McDreamy. McFabulous is moving in. The season starts tomorrow night at 9PM Central on Bravo.

First Class Only, Please

Well, we did it. We traveled with child on Labor Day weekend and survived with only minimal damage. Now, I haven't flown since pre-Lillie (BL) days about a year or more ago. And, being mostly a business traveler I usually didn't require much customer service. Board with your group, have a beverage, land and leave. Well, we all know that flying with children, car seat, stroller, diaper bag, etc requires a little more attention. Thinking back to the times I flew BL, I had memories of people pre-boarding with children before anyone else. Seems reasonable and a very nice thing to do.

So, Cy, Lillie and I are standing at the front of the gate waiting to pre-board (like I had seen in the past) and the announcement comes for first class passengers. Hmmm, there must be some mistake, maybe they pre-board children after first class. We saunter up to the gate agent tickets and gear in hand and ask to board. The agent quickly glances at my tickets, sees boarding group 5, pulls his mic to his mouth and says "Boarding first class passengers only please, any remaining first class passengers." "Pardon me, but do you not pre-board children anymore?" I ask. "Not anymore, it takes up too much time."

Interesting theory from American. It takes up too much time to allow parents the extra 5 minutes to strap in the car seat and settle all their gear before take off. At least now I know and can lower my expectations for the airline that I have traveled with most of my life. Guess I should have flashed my gold member card for a little respect.