New Shoes

I realized today while getting Juliet ready for our outings, that her shoes consisted primarily of flip flops (pink ones, light pink ones, lighter pink ones and ones with cup cakes on them). Needless to say, the girl was in need of some full coverage shoes that are more appropriate for Seattle weather vs. Southern weather. These are the shoes she picked out; Converse. In pink ... what else?

LA Fitness

The notion of working out with a fitness trainer is ludicrous for a number of reasons. For one, you are completely vulnerable while exercising. You're tired, sidetracked and as good as deaf with your iPod blasting Chris Brown (I love you Chris Brown *air kiss*), and if you're anything like me, after about ten minutes of squats, your legs are like Jello ... you know, the Cosby kind that won't stop jiggling? Just because you're paying $60 plus a session, you are supposed to trust this gorilla juice head (who is basically a complete stranger) with your life. Are they really going to grab that bar before it smashes your pretty little face in? Are they ready to snatch all one hundred and two pounds of you off the treadmill when it's on mountain climb mode and going so fast that you happen to fly off? What if you get distracted by the TV when you should be watching your legs and you accidently squat so low you sprain your gluteus maximus? Yeah, I paid attention in health class. IF your beloved trainer ever did for whatever reason decide to turn on you, it would be so easy. Think about it; while they're saving their precious energy, humbly yet supportively standing at the side of your stair step machine, grinning like an idiot while asking you a number of irrelevant questions when they know damn right you can't talk (who do they think they are, your dentist?), all the while you're sweating like some kind of farm animal and seconds from blacking out; it's the perfect time to strike. And come on ... am I the only one wondering if all trainers really hate fast food and have a deep passion for working out, or do the employees of McDonalds (which happens to be right next door to the gym) actually know them AND their "number six large with fries and a coke" by name? Maybe instead of exercise obsessed, they just happen to be savvy in the weight lifting department and are naturally thin, absurdly good looking former cheerleaders. You decide; you're the one paying them to make YOU sexy. Ok, OK ... correction. I'M sexy and I'M the one paying them.

I met my trainer for the first time today, and he just so happened to be one of the absurdly good looking cheerleader types and to my horror greatly resembled Chris Brown. Now, you would think that would make me thrilled, a little hot and incredibly motivated but it was just the opposite. Now I'm nervous; here I am, hair tossed up, teeth brushed (thank god), not exactly dressed to impress and with little make-up on. I just KNEW my deodorant attempt was doomed to failure even though I had my seven dollar "comes in a box" Sport Active Secret generously applied. But, I got the impression my Chris Brown look-a-like couldn't have cared less about any of that, although I'm sure he appreciated my clean teeth because I ended up smiling a lot more than I thought I would. I was embarrassingly sore from my twenty-two knee push ups the day before during my evaluation, and instead of making fun of me, he was careful not to push me too hard. He was knowledgeable and super helpful. He was a little bossy, making me take water breaks constantly. Of course I never considered the fact that I might get thirsty, so resorted to drinking out of the gym water fountains. It brought me back to grade school and I couldn't help but wonder if my trainer was checking out my butt while I was bent over drinking; I chose the highest of the two fountains and gulped fast JUST in case.

So I AM excited about my twice a week training schedule ... and yes, I have complete faith that Mr. Brown (aka Marcus) would indeed catch that bar before it got a chance to smash my pretty face, maybe even while quietly humming "forever."

Little Flower Girl

Hard to believe Violet will be seven weeks old tomorrow. She's such a good baby; a great sleeper and eater. She's healthy, solid and smiles all the time. It's ironic; we worried so much throughout my pregnancy and as it turns out, she is so much stronger than Juliet ever was at this age. Over all, she's pretty awesome ... but hey, maybe I'm a bit bias.

Overcoming Fears

Being the brave girl she is, Juliet finally decided to succumb to her two lastest fears; heights and vegetables. I can't even remember the last time she sat in a chair by herself and don't you even dare utter the word "highchair" in her presents. She's taken to either eating her meals while standing, or talking some poor sap who can't say "no" into sitting in their lap only to result in both plates of penne pasta & broccoli (minus the broccoli on Juliet's of course) on the floor. You can forget trying to give this kid anything green that by your standards falls under the "edible" category; maybe you can get lucky on a good nap day and get her to eat a pickle. I knew she'd get over it and this day would eventually come, I just didn't expect it to happen all in one sitting. Since it may not happen again for a while, it has now been documented.

So thank you Target for finally getting your act together and selling cute minature packages of carrots with equally cute individual ranch dips to accompany them. Your carrot prices are rediculous, but you did get my daughter to enjoy vegetables once again. And thank you Apple for making my daughter an iTouch addict which was responsible for the distraction that got her up in a chair. Now, if we could only loose the diapers and binkie.

Rockin' Out

Well, it happened again; I caved at Target. Juliet is now the proud owner of a disney princess ipod that came with none other than tiara headphones.

Buds

It's so nice to finally have a sidekick.

Deep In Thought

Facing the window and watching the curtains float in the breeze ... good entertainment for at least fifteen minutes.

It's Bumbo Time

Hard to believe my baby is getting so big. She's seeing the world from a whole new angle in the comfy seat of her pink Bumbo. Which is all fine and dandy until she remembers her diaper needs changing.

Girls Only Allowed

The girls had a play date with Miss Avery and Miss Savannah this morning. Violet slept (big surprise), Savannah sat and looked beautiful (with a little crawling here and there) and the "big" girls played in Avery's awesome play house and of course in the pool. The fact that Avery's Mommy had to add boiling water from the kitchen to the pool to keep it warm enough cracked me up ... a little different than summers in the south where you almost need to throw in a couple ice cubes after accusing someone else's kid of peeing in the pool because it's uncomfortably warm.

Juliet is unusually sweet on Avery; it's so refreshing to see her get along so well with someone her own age. In most cases, she's landed herself in time out after about 5 minutes with another toddler. They were so cute to watch. Someone FINALLY understands what the heck Juliet's saying and speaks her language. They were super good about taking turns going down the slide into the pool and cheering for each other once they hit the water. Ahhh, sometimes the less boys the better.

Sneak Peak: Big Sister-To-Be Miss Violet Beckman

My first official photoshoot was this evening with the lovely, bright eyed and soon to be big sister, Miss Violet Beckman. She was such a joy and talk about a DOLL! This is pretty large for a "sneak peak" but this being my first photoshoot, I was thorough ... and when I say thorough, I mean I snapped 694 photos in our hour and a half session. More photos of the adorable Miss Violet and her glowing expectant Mommy to come this week. Thank you so much Beckman family for being my first. It was such a wonderful experience.