Monday, May 23, 2016

A Proper Pram, but no proper cobblestones.

When I had the first Wee Boy in Edinburgh, Scotland, a dear friend offered me a vintage Silver Cross stroller (or pram or buggy, whatever). I wanted so much to accept -- to wander the cobblestone streets pretending I was royalty, my teeny bairn within the giant buggy, swaddled like a burrito. Alas, we lived in a small one-bedroom flat and it just didn't make sense to accept the giant pram.

We did end up acquiring a secondhand buggy, however, that turned out to be one of my favorite purchases. I loved it so much that it followed us home to America, even though we left most everything else we owned at various charity shops in Scotland. Since the first Wee Boy hasn't really ridden in a stroller since he turned 2.5, it's been packed away in my parents' garage.

Today, we cleaned out the ol' Scottish pram, and I can't tell you how much I'm enjoying wandering the neighborhood with it.

1. It's got proper tires. These American prams, unless you pay a zillion dollars for a high-end jogging stroller, seem to have tires designed for mall-walking, not for actual transportation. Since we are car-free, we need functional strollers.

2. The new wee boy can lie down, all swaddled up if we want, and face me, while still safely secured -- without having to be in a car seat. I can skip about, pushing the pram and still make eye contact with him. It is simply delightful.

I love it. I love having a place to put him for his 28-minute naps, so I can pound out a blog without having him attached to me. I love babywearing, but I need personal space too. But that's another blog... also, it's been 28 minutes apparently.

Also, if you're in the Louisville area, come to this show! It's an outdoor gig, family-friendly and will be loads of fun. My band, plus THE BIRDIES! Get your tickets here ... kids are free.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Matching Derby outfits for the wee boys.

#BabysFirstDerby

It seems native Louisvillians either embrace all things Derby, or they get out of town and claim to not understand the hype. For those who stay in town, the festivities are still divided -- half of the people following horses, trainers, owners and the SnapChat story (snap code Kentucky.Derby), and the rest of the partiers forgetting the whole two-week festival is actually leading up to a two-minute horse race.

I fall somewhere in between all of these. We rent our house out, but we don't dare leave town. It's much too fun to stay. 

The azaleas are blooming, and the liquor store owners are extra chatty. People are generally happy, and I like it that way. I also like bed races, balloon races, steamboat races, parades, and mint juleps (yes - after years of haughtily supposing that no proper Louisvillian actually likes the signature cocktail of the Derby -- I've had a few good ones and have decided they are surprisingly refreshing). 

It's been seven years since I've actually been to the track on Derby Day -- that magical day when I was bequeathed a ticket to Millionaire's Row the day after I sang at the famous Barnstable-Brown Party. Ahhhh, my pre-kids magical life.

Post-kids is pretty magical though too ... the boys got matching adorable Derby outfits this year.

Today the wee boy is 8 weeks old, which means he gets his first shots soon, and I might actually let some of you hold him. 

I'm also close to finishing writing my birth story, so look out for that soon.

In the mean time, check out this video on my Facebook page of me singing, playing piano and breastfeeding simultaneously (or don't check it out if you don't want to see 25% of a boob).

Me and David at the fancy new infield suites at Thurby.
Babywearing at Churchill Downs on Thurby.
We needed the carseat for the Uber, but it was useful too.

Blogging from the chemo lab.

Gooooood Monday morning, y'all! I'm writing from the Norton Cancer Institute where, for the first time in months, I'm able to ac...