Babies

After reading one of my favorite blogs (mentioned below) and hearing about the documentary Babies, I just had to go and see it. Anything nienie likes, I'm sure I will like, I thought. So today, on this dreary Seattle, perfect movie going weather day, I dragged my husband to see it. Giving him the sound reasoning that, hey we are about 4 months away from having one of those little bundles of joy ourselves, so might as well absorb any and all info we can get...including documentaries (AND I'm not making you go see Sex In the City 2...lucky you!).

Well, about halfway through, I could sense my sweet husband getting restless next to me. Is this torture about to end I thought?? (even though I would never admit that to him).

To say the least the documentary was kind of a snore. Mind you the babies were very cute. And the message was there...babies are babies, the same throughout the world. And every culture has a different way of taking care of those little sweet morsels. But no matter where you live, the most important part of taking care of a baby is the same...with lots of love.

I can't wait to meet our new little girl. Lord knows she is going to be LOVED.

PS - Of course I cried during the previews about another documentary about schools...gotta love those hormones! I hope the 5 other people in the theatre didn't notice. I told my husband next time we go see a documentary we should sit in the back and makeout.

PPS - Thanks Jen for getting us started. I heart both you and Nik. You are both fantastic belles to blog with.

xoxo,

Maria

uncoventional lullaby

"in west philadelphia born and raised - on the playground is where i spent most of my days - chillin out maxin, relaxin all cool - and all shootin some b-ball outside of the school - when a couple a guys who were up to no good - started makin trouble in my neighborhood - i got in one little fight and my mom got scared - she said your moving with your auntie and uncle in bel air...."

recognize this little jingle? that's right - theme song of the fresh prince.

our son is currently cutting three new teeth. yes - very awesome event to consume memorial day weekend.

my husband (ryan) and little oliver went for a very long car ride yesterday to grandma's house while i was busy assisting in shooting a wedding. "daddy" had to break out some lullaby songs to try to ease baby's teething anxiety. he ran out of ideas after several rounds of rockabye baby, hush little baby and the abc's (those are the only three he knows) and decided that since he has every line of the fresh prince memorized - that would have to do. apparently the soothing lyrics put baby right to sleep.

this afternoon when ryan started singing the fresh prince again and little o broke out his perfected stevie wonder dance, i had to smile. very big.

you've got to love the things daddies come up with.

oh how i heart oliver's stevie dance.

Inspired.

what i love about blog culture is simple. it is a massive wealth of inspiration.

i recently google searched "anthro astrid chair (i have been obsessed with this delicious anthropologie chair for months now). i subsequently spent at least 5 hours pouring through over 20 blogs with posts dedicated solely to my one and only. i read posts from at least 10 women whose budgets (like mine) absolutely would not stretch that far for one cute little chair... so they did the admirable budget savvy thing - they created gorgeous lookalike chairs by re-purposing craigslist and thrift store finds... brilliant.

with that, i have been inspired to learn to re-upholster.

a big thanks to jen for getting us started - on our way to returning the favor of inspiring others from our own little corner of the blog world.

nikki

Of Mollies and Mollys.

I can't say I'm new to blogging, because that just wouldn't be true.  I love blogs.  For whatever reason, I love two blogs by Mormon mothers who are also sisters.  I also love the blog of a fabulously real ex-sorority sister who just happens to have four (and almost five) kids and an obsession for Nordstrom.  But most especially, I really really, like super duper, love the blog called Orangette.

And what's not to love about it?  It's called Orangette (more on the orange thing in posts to come).  It's all about cooking, and stories about how to cook each delicious food, but not in an uppity way a la Cooks Illustrated.  Orangette's author lives in Seattle, just like me.  She loves Seattle, just like me.  She has a regular column in Bon Appetit.  She even has a book called "A Homemade Life", which I highly recommend.

So, although I'm not new to blogs, and certainly not new to reading Orangette or knowing about the author, I am new to commenting.  In a post about peas on Orangette today, for whatever reason, I decided to leave a comment.  Hooray me!  I'm clever, I'm funny, I'm connected to the matrix!  I cannot blame it on anything other than blogging exuberance.

Here's what my comment said:

Go Mollie!  Go peas!

I know there are many questions to be answered.  I know that it's not all that exciting of a comment, and not that great of a contribution overall.  It just reflected what I was feeling at the moment - peas!

But here's the irony:  Orangette's author, and my pseudo-Seattle-idol, is named Molly Wizenberg.  Molly.  (Not Mollie.)

Curses.

I think I'm off of commenting for awhile.

You have to start somewhere.

Okay, so I'm in my mid-thirties but I still remember that doing homework was a drag.   

That translates now into everyday life:  projects at work, tackling that messy closet, getting on the treadmill for a workout when I'd rather be eating a cookie. 

Whenever my shoulders slump and my spirit sags, I hear my mother's voice: 

"Honey, you have to start somewhere." 

And so I do.

With that, I formally and very happily inaugurate the Belles of the Blog:  Three women, three separate lives, three mothers, three chefs, three Marthas, three aspiring artists of various arts trapped in their not-so-glamorous day jobs, three friends who agree with Schoolhouse Rock and think that three *is* a magic number - that's us. 

We had to start somewhere, and that somewhere is here.

xxoo,
Jen