Utterly Amazed

I am completely gobsmacked that eleven years can go by so quickly. Eleven years ago, at this very hour, I was strapped up to fetal monitors at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, watching the telemetry machine track every breath and heartbeat of the baby that was inside of me. Eight hours earlier, I awoke to make what I thought would be a routine trip to the bathroom, only to discover that the wee little person taking up residence in my belly was plotting to arrive into the world four weeks ahead of schedule.

Fast forward, at a very rapid pace, eleven years. And that wee little person has evolved into a sweet boy ... or, dare I say it, a very young man.

I am in awe of his kindness, his empathy, and his character. He is smart, funny, and at the drop of a hat can exude physical comedy that would put Jerry Lewis or Jim Carey to shame. He is a musician, an artist, an activist, a jock, and a friend. He loathes being one of the smallest boys in his class, but uses his petite frame to his advantage, especially in flag football and cross country.

I can't believe how much I lucked out. I get to be the mom of David Thomas Hastings. And for that, I am endlessly grateful.

Happy birthday, my sweet David! Thank you for making me the happiest mommy on the face of the planet eleven years ago today. 

So little to report ... and that's actually a good thing

What makes tonight's blog post so extraordinary - besides it being the first in four months - is that it is being written on my brand new MacBook Air. Really, keyboarding on this magnificent instrument is a thing of beauty.

And yet while I take a moment to compose my thoughts for all 12 of my followers to see, I realize that there is both very little and a whole lot upon which to muse. Elizabeth and David finished another year of elementary school. David, my little man who, just yesterday was small enough to pick up with one hand for a diaper change, is 10. I continue to be amazed by the self-assured, kind, easy-going young man he is turning out to be. Elizabeth has rightfully earned the title of Academic Princess Diva; she's whiz in school, a fashionista, and a confident and sparkling little girl. Everyone is her BFF.

For my part, I am a darned lucky mommy, and I'm married to an incredibly smart, handsome man who also has the world's kindest heart.

So, now we embark upon our first summer vacation where I am working at Foothill Country Day School and the kids are on campus with me. The ebb and flow of the summer days just feels more ... mellow, more laid back. Earlier last week I read a wonderful article entitled, "10 Ways to Give your Kids an Honest-to-Goodness 1970s Summer,"and I could almost smell the familiar scent of twilight air that used to blow past my face as I peddled furiously on my little red Schwinn (with training wheels) all around Greengate Street and Locust Avenue. I watched tonight with great contentedness as David and Elizabeth splashed around in the pool of our dear friends (who are getting married this weekend! Yeah for marriage equality!) until way after the sun had gone down, and was so grateful not only for the California climate but also for the relaxed feeling of a Wednesday summer evening.

We expanded our family to welcome yet another kitten (say hello to Eclaire!) who is a miniature version of Grace, whom we adopted in December. I love waking up in the morning to find both cats curled up at the foot of our bed, quite often spooning with each other.

And, of course, there are the sweet dogs.

The simplicity of it all, at least for now, is at it should be.

First blog post of 2014!

I would be more horrified about my lack of due diligence in keeping up to date on my blog missives, but given the fact that I only have 12 official followers, I'm not too embarrassed. Yet.

But, here we are - 2014, and already half-way through its second month. February. The month of the Ground Hog, Presidents, Cupid and, this year, what would have been my grandfather's 105th birthday.

But, let me rewind a bit to muse just briefly on how there is, in our house, always enough love to go around. Consider, if you will, Grace and Remy Hastings.

Grace (foreground) and Remy (background) ... and Glen's legs

Grace and Remy were the result of a long-winded discussion that Glen and I had in December. We were mulling over the complications of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Well, actually, we were just asking each other, "what do you want for Christmas?" I responded: "I'd like a puppy and a kitten, please." After Glen realized that I had not entirely lost my mind, he agreed with great enthusiasm. We concurred that getting two babies that have fur and walk on four legs would be much simpler - and much less expensive - than getting the human type. That factory is closed. But that's a blog post for another time.

So, within a week's time, I began searching on the wonderful web site that is petfinder.com. That's www.petfinder.com. This site links families seeking to open their hearts and homes to stray, rescued and fostered pets to their perfect, four-legged companions.

The first contestant to pique my interest and steal my heart: Ricky.

At the time, Ricky was a 12-week old Malti-Poo, being fostered in our hometown of La Verne. To see his sweet face, big eyes, and overall fluffiness was to instantly fall in love. The kids and I arranged to meet him that night. It was love at first sight. We were done for.

The little guy made himself instantly comfortable in David's arms

Yep. I'm irresistible.

After a brief interview with his wonderful foster family, we sealed the deal, and agreed to pick up the little guy the following Saturday.

Then came the matter of finding a name for him. Look at him. Does he look like a Ricky to you? Nah, didn't think so. Do not get me wrong; Ricky, short for Richard, is an adorable name. But not for this fellow.

Lager, of course, was named after a specific beer style. But, a Malti-Poo just doesn't have that "beer" vibe. A Malti-Poo is a bit too ... fluffy ... delicate ... foo foo. And, over Yahoo Instant Messaging, Glen proposed the name: Remy - after the chef/rat character in the food-themed Pixar film, Ratatouille. Done and done.

Here are a few photos from Remy's first minutes at his forever home ... our home. There is little doubt in my mind that Remy was sent to us by Spike, my lovely Bichon who crossed the Rainbow Bridge in 2012, and whom I still miss to this day (and always will). Remy evokes the crazy, zany buzz that Spike did in his younger years, and it could not be a more perfect fit for the four of us.

Kissing up, literally, to his new big brother, Lager

Instant BFFs

I think I'll like it here just fine.

Meantime, in between meeting Remy, naming him, and bringing him home, my search continued for a kitten. Originally, I planned to look for a white cat - again, evoking the memory of sweet Honey, who was called to the Rainbow Bridge last year. My search on www.petfinder.com yielded a little beauty with the temporary name of Arya. However, this kitten was being fostered just a little farther from home ... in Huntington Beach. Undaunted, the kids and I traipsed out there one weeknight for our first visit with this little sweet girl. Arya was 16 weeks old when we first met her.

Getting comfy

Nose rubs!

Again, it was time for a choice of name. Glen and I could not come up with any food-themed names that seemed appropriate for this dainty little girl, so then we began thinking of key phrases that describe what makes us the most happy, content, and grateful. And, thus, Grace came into being. She brought grace to us before we even brought her home ... and bring her home we did!

Say hello to my little friend!

Two little ladies

Safely tucked in for the car ride home!

My puppy-kitten fantasy included visions of these two little creatures growing up together to be life-long friends. They'd share couch space together, rub each others noses, sniff each others butts, and spoon. They would be such an inseparable mass of fluffiness that it would be hard to tell where one began and the other ended.

Well, it hasn't exactly been that simple. Grace still playfully growls when Remy comes up to her demanding play time. They tangle over bed and couch space. Remy wants nothing more than to be adored by his feline big sister. Grace insists on bonding on her terms. But, over the weeks, Grace's growls have clearly just become "bluff and bluster." She secretly adores playing tug-o-war with Remy's stuffed toys. She'll gladly come up to Lager and give his gray muzzle a soft rub. She remains unconvinced that she and the dogs are friends, but indeed they are.

How, you may ask, is Lager faring in all of this? In short, having two new friends at home has given him a new lease on life, a spring in his step, and an undeniable smile on his face. He adores his companions, as evidenced herewith:

You complete me.

Sorry. I work alone.

Okay, ONE photo. JUST ONE.

Okay, TWO. JUST TWO.