Tanning Anyone?

I am pasty-ass white by nature. My shins are almost blue I'm so pale. I'm also the person who applies any version of sunscreen and comes away with streaks, hand prints, and embarrassing lines all over my red and white body. Since I got pregnant my sensitivity to the sun is also much worse. I have a lot of splotchy sun spots and pigmentation issues, so I've about given up on my once childhood crush called the sun.

We are headed to a wedding this weekend, and I decided to remedy my calamity, I decided to book myself an appointment at Elizabeth Arden (darling) to tan me right up. The procedure is called the St. Tropez Body Bronzer. Basically, you strip down buck naked, and let a technician slather you with brown paint until you appear tan. I asked a number of seat-sinker, inappropriate questions as usual, but I had to know how this would effect me. In one hour I was done, and at the moment I left I looked a bit scary. She told me it goes on streaky, and would remain that way until I showered. Last night I looked like I had just come in from off-roading in my dune buggy. It just looked dirty. I went to bed reluctant that this would be any better than the orange striped tan I gave myself from Neutrogena last summer (Corba sisters can attest it was a tranny mess).

But low and behold, after my shower this morning, all of the streaks rolled down the drain, and I looked like I was really tan a week ago, and the leftover but still cool tan remained. You know that tan girls. Can I hear a Heyyyyyy! Anyway, it is the perfect color now, and you can't even tell it's painted on. I am astonished and amazed. Problem is, every day it washes away more. It is supposed to last five days (which seems short to me for the price), which will just get me to the wedding! Blast.

I was not able to take Lyla to swimming class this morning because of it (since the long stay in the water and chlorine work against St. Tropez' wonderous powers). That stinks, but I was secretly relieved not to have to drag Lyla out of bed, force feed her, and speed to the pool for once. Even the boys I work with who didn't even notice my hair cut from shoulder length, to full-on Mia Farrow noticed my color. Steve even said my hair looked lighter (which I had dyed two weeks ago). I would take a photo, but because I am so unphotogenic, I will not open myself up to the inevitable side talk about me that will occur when seeing my pic inserted into this blog!

So, now all I have to do is avoid long soaks in water (sorry bath--I hate bathing in your scum of me anyway), sweating profusely (sorry workouts), and exfoliating (sorry facialist--Miss Arden's orders).

Now to end the grossness of this account, I will leave you with vids of our girl.
The first two are us tormenting Lyla with 1. a heinous headband that came with some outfit someone gave us 2. her sunhat that no longer fits her sputnik head.

The third is Lyla swinging away in the dining room--her favorite pre-bedtime activity. She has begun swinging much more than actually bouncing, but all are equally funny to watch.


P.S. The table is farther away than it looks. We're not so bad.

Going Green Makes Me Blue

Let me just tell all of you that going green ain't easy. We do a bit to prevent Lyla from suffering the toxic effects of plastic, cotton, and bleach, but geez, when I started really trying to make a switch, it is daunting, and frightening. I bought this book called Organic Baby: Simple Steps for Healthy Living, and let me tell you it's worse than watching Dead Ringers (one of three movies that ever gave me nightmares; the other two are The Shining and that freak Lisa Bonet/Micky Rourke movie Angel Heart).

The book outlines all of the toxins in our every day baby necessities like diapers, wipes, toys, and even rugs. I always think twice about the gross plastic excersaucer living in my basement, and the waste of having three bouncer/rockers (at least I gave them away after Lyla was donezo--which the book says to do if you must partake in the poison that is plastic), but across the board it looks like grim! About the only thing simply broken down about any of her toys is their primary colors. So, Lyla goes on sucking away and the impossibly landfill-destined toys, is diapered daily by chlorine bleach dyed, and petroleum-heavy products, and sleeps on an off-gassing toxic mattress every night (we have since ordered an organic mattress).

Now, a word about the diapers. We are big fans of Seventh Generation products, and have tried their chlorine-free diapers, but they fit like a pair of True Religions. They are so low-slung, and barely absorbent. In fact, I think they are made of brown napkins. Then I bought gDiapers, which are biodegradable and compost(able). The first day I had to tell our nanny Jess that she would have to put an outer shell/panty on with an insert of the actual diaper into the nylon inner pocket. Then, when full, she would have to take the diaper apart in pieces, and feed it one piece at a time with a poker (provided courtesy of gDiaper)into our low flow toilet. Needless to say the toilet clogged the very first day, and I wasn't about to ask her to bury it in the backyard. So, we're back on Pampers, but I might try the g's this weekend again just to take a crack at it. If Julia Robert's (staff) can handle them, so can I. And since Oprah loves Julia Roberts, the whole world should use these, since everyone does what Oprah says. I actually think that the gDiaper manual is on her book club list.

Even onesies are cotton which is bleached with harsh chemicals unless they are made of organic cotton, which I try to get as much as possible, but they're certainly not at Janie and Jack my favorite haunt. They know me as Mrs. Walter there. Sad.

Curtains, those crunchy ends of toys that kids love, every plush toy: made of polyester, worst offender.

Oh, your upholstered chairs, same fibers as your death mattresses.

New furniture, hardwood floors? Coated with harmful varnishes. This is the one time having antique furniture has helped us! Now all we have to worry about is the splinters and lead paint it emits. Ha.

The list goes on...and as I made mine, it was pretty long in the catastrophic categories of my delightful new book. Hooray green...

Points Against Us
1. Anything plugged in her room (humidifier, baby monitor, iPod player)
2. More plush toys made of polyester than you can think of
3. Exersaucer, play mat, dinosaur with plastic balls, high chair
4. Disposable diapers
5. Dr. Boudreax's, Johnson&Johnson shampoo, Mustele Barrier Cream all contain phthalates (cut out lotions and never used powder)Didn't know this at first, so they are now bannedHowever, I blame all of those reading this blog for giving me these items at my shower! Damn you mothers!
6. Diaper Genie-Need I say More?
7. 80% of her clothes are not organic
8. 50% of her sheets are not organic
9. For the first three months we used Pampers Diaper wipes
10. All paint in the house has VOC (Ralph and Martha didn't get the memo from Al Gore yet)

Points For Us
1.Curtains made of bamboo or linen (renewable fabrics)
2.Everything Lyla eats is organic/50% is homemade
3.Aquafor is what I slather on her sensitive bottom 90% of the time
4.50% of her toys are wood, or organic cotton...and we try to limit the number of toys (as my book says, live simply)
5.The rug she sits and plays on every day is flokati (sustainable, animal and environment friendly product)
6.BPA-free bottles, sippy cups, and bowls
7.Organic wipes, detergent, (now) shampoos,and maybe we'll give the g's another go
8.Awareness

Ok, #8 is weak, but I try! So, our minuses outweigh the plusses I can think of, but we're working on it. Geez.

Lyla Goes to the Pool

So, this morning was Lyla's first day at "Get Wet" at Meadowbrook Pool here in Baltimore-- Home of Michael Phelps for any of you keeping score. I was frantic at the house trying to get her there, and for the first I felt like one of the Moms in commercials and movies that is running through her house with a bottle in one hand, the baby in the other, keys everywhere, stuff flying all over the place. I swear, when my nanny got there, she was probably like, what the H E double hockey sticks (cuz she would say that) happened here? The reason is, the lessons are at 11. Lyla typically naps from 9ish to 10:30 or later. Today, I took her for a walk to help my big fat ass, and of course to bond with my daughter, and we didn't get home until 9:20. So, I flew upstairs to put her down, and she zonked. Well, she wasn't even close to being up at 10:15, so I was trying to make noise to wake her up without waking her up! She eventually did wake up, and I had to feed her ASAP. Now Lyla is a girl who likes to take time with a meal. She looks around, take the bottle out, puts it back in... all at her leisure (pronounced lezzzhhhure). She's not trying to chug it by any means. Today was no different, she was bent backwards, laughing, watching Filo, and all sorts of non-drinking bottle type stuff. We got through half the ba before I had to get her ready.

Of course the bathing suit I got her just fits (9-12 months and she is 8 months next week). So, I'm trying to pour her into it, and get easily taken off clothing on over it. Well, she takes a little dumper right then, and I have to re-start, then reorganize the swimmy diaper, the suit, the whole nine again. By this point I'm sweating. I whiz back downstairs, give her another five on the bottle and roll.

I get to the swim club at 11:05 or so, and meet Trent. He is in charge of videotaping the event, and I am in charge of actually exposing myself in a bathing suit, mingling with the Moms, and ensuring Lyla's life aquatic doesn't end in disaster. I've obviously missed the intros, and any sort of direction on whether I need to ease the wee child into the water, or just take the plunge and wing it! I just take the steps in, and Lyla immediately loves it. She starts kicking her legs like nuts, and smiling all over. She couldn't have been happier. This is very good. I popped into the circle of parents and kids (ages 6 months to 3 years old is the range they allow), and I was right next to a Mom who's son was seven months. This made me feel better since all the other kids were older. I thought she was going to be my new best friend, but she just stared at me most of the time, and didn't offer much in terms of fun or conversation about this blessed event. Plus, she had some weird "Mom" bathing suit on, and maybe a bun, so I knew we could never be BFFs. She's the one in the vids next to me. Lurking. Maybe because Lyla is about three times the size of her son, and she can't believe they're the same age? Who knows. I even brought some cards to give to all my other new friends at class, but it seems they all already knew each other, and they definitely didn't associate with the newbie who didn't know EVERY verse to the swim club remix of Wheels on the Bus, or any child outside their kid's age bracket. Whatev.

Anyway, Lyla was a joy, and I can't wait to see what we do next week. Today we dunked under the water a few times. As you can see in the vid, I just pop her under, but Miss Annie held her under longer. I was scared stiff to do it, but Lyla didn't seem to mind at all. The teacher was much more at ease. Daddy was very proud!

The Blog is Back!

Due to a popular vote, the Walter Bean is being resurrected. Now, I can post Lyla's photos on every free site on the Internet including this one. Well, I'll try to stick to videos and the "best of" photos for this spot, and keep my spam to photos only. How's that? If you wanna know what's happening in our crazy little world, you're just gonna have to visit every week.

Anyway, it's been since July since I posted. It's crazy that I was talking about having the baby, and feeling big and uncomfortable and all that crap. Now, I have a baby, and am still talking about being big, just for other reasons (more on that topic in a later post).

Lyla is now almost eight months old, and I cannot believe how time has flown. I'll sum it up by saying she is a dollface, and I just adore her. She sleeps, she eats, she poops (but not too much), and she thinks I'm the cat's nightgown. She laughs at me, I laugh at her. We talk about boys, our favorite pureed fruits and veggies, and reducing our carbon footprints. We've really become quite the BFFs. Although, she is currently in love with her father, which is just fine too. She lights up when he comes in the room, and this is also a joy for me too. I love the love.
She plays yuck yuck with his nose (Trent rubbing his nose on her belly then says yuck yuck while he wipes it all off on her belly) and this causes an eruption of laughter. It happens to make us laugh just about as hard. She's also been climbing over the couch arm as of late where she proceeds to rock in downward dog, and lick and blow raspberries on the leather. Another odd, yet comical act of hers.

She's been doing so many things that amaze us (which is everything since we've never had a kid before, so everything new is so new!). She has been doing some G.I. Joe style crawling the last few weeks, which has started going into a hands and knees rock, and this morning that rock turned into a few crawly steps. We were freaking. Lyla crawling means us baby proofing our very antiquey, very splintery furniture and furnishings. Our deathtrap cocktail table in the living room is being replaced in about two weeks, and the string of low hanging mirrors in the dining room is next. Lyla has also been suprising us with her blocking the monitor during naps. We used to see a nice, small sleeping baby in there. Now, it's her sitting up with her "HUGE HEEEEED" in front of the lens. Scary as well. She's also been doing a lot of yapping. Last night she said Bob. Not intentionally of course. Just came on out. She most says random stuff, and a lot of, "Da da da da da". I like to say I taught her this a few months ago, but it is the sound most kids make all the time, so whatev. We would also like to say it is Da da, as in father, but it sounds more like Dah (rhymes with Fa, the note). She also only whispers this, never says it out loud. Very funny.

We take lots of vids, which I don't always email, so I'll post them here is I can remember. My memory is that of my 96-year old grandmother. Maybe worse. She is able to remember the shopping list of things she needs (like Nips, Sambuca, individually wrapped tissues, etc.), whereas I cannot. It is really, really bad. Actually, worse than it was when I was pregnant. I have NO idea where I put things five minutes ago. I have started taking more notes than anyone you'll ever know. I have Outlook, a date book, five note pads, post-its all over my desk at work, and then I leave it all there, and have no idea what I need to do. I've been on two conference calls this week 30 minutes prior to the scheduled time, I lost my keys once (they were in Lyla's stroller), and I've left my coffee in its handy travel coozy on the table by the front door twice as well.

On the same note, my awareness is off too. I was telling Trent how I was on the phone with the Audi dealership for about ten minutes yesterday trying to figure out why my recollection of maintenance visits and mileage didn't match up to my car, when she finally said to me, "You are referring to the 2006 Audi A4 Avant, right?" This is when I realized I was not actually talking to the Volvo dealership.

Otherwise, life is grand! Ha. We're busy bees, and the spring is no different. So, until I start updating "My Life as a Mommy" entries, I will leave you with this vid of LCW doing her thing.