Trade!

I need someone to take portraits of me. Real portraits, before Cooper is born.

I would be ever-so-grateful and show my appreciation by taking portraits of you.

I am looking for a photographer, not a friend with a point-and-shoot (sorry if that sounds snotty).

Anyone?

Reality Check

For the last few mornings I've been waking up in the middle of the night (for various reasons) and have noticed that my right hand is throbbing and stiff. I am able to fall back asleep, yet the pain is still there when I wake up. It seems to be worse first thing in the morning, it's literally painful to open it up. This is the same hand that I broke in a car accident, the same hand I type on a 10-key with for hours on end every day, so I attribute it to a mild form of arthritis. It may be a self diagnosis, but I'm not sure what else if could be, especially with the stiffening of the joints. I figured I was a little young to be having arthritis issues and decided to try not to think about it.

A few minutes after exiting the warm bed I stumbled to the upstairs bathroom to tame my tumbleweed-like hair. As I started to part the mess of hair, I involuntarily let out a "nooooooooo!" at what I saw; my first grey hair. It was plain as day, and it wasn't just a little grey, it was plain-as-day bright grey.

By this time Jory has made his way to the base of the stairs, asking me if I was alright. The only thing I could think to say in my hormone induced frustration was "I'm falling apart. I'm an old lady at 27".

Then reality hit me. I'm not a young little spring chicken anymore. Granted, I'm not old and I'm completely active with many years of fun ahead of me... but I now am starting to realize that this is when you have to start taking care of your body, that the days of body abuse with quick recoveries are over. My body will probably not bounce back after the baby is born, it will take work now. If I'm going to stay lean I have to work with my new metabolism, which is not eat-whatever-you-want-and-remain-30-pounds, anymore. It takes exercise and discipline to stay in shape and it takes patience. Just because Jack-in-the-Box has "free taco night" doesn't mean I should take part in it. Part of me likes it and part of me wonders how the hell we become adults so fast. I feel like I was dancing until sunrise with Maggie only a couple months ago, when it reality it was 10 years ago.

After this baby is born I fully intend to jump back into my normal routine. I hope to be back in spin, walking multiple time a week and hiking as much as possible.

And I'm keeping that first gray hair to remind myself that it's important to take care of myself.

Oh, life.

920 Centennial Avenue

Tonight my Mom moved out of her house. It was the house I grew up in, moving in at around a year-and-a-half old. All of my childhood memories were created in this house. It just hit me about 20 minutes ago; I'll never be able to go in that house again. Mix in some hormones and you have a very sad Alison.

I decided to post a few memories from 920 Centennial Avenue. There are thousands of memories from this house and I will never, ever forget it.

Staying Away from the Bad Stuff

I have about 3 months to go (I know!) and I've already gained a lot of weight with this pregnancy. Although the doctor didn't say I'm fat, she did suggest that I exercise more and watch my calorie intake.

I am trying my damnedest to eat healthy and stay away from the high calorie and no-no foods, such as white flours, high sugar foods and fried foods. I was eating very healthy last week but kept finding myself starving, even after a large meal. There was almost no fat in my diet. Tara suggested I have a little fat in my meals to make me feel full longer.

I decided to start off today with a frittata. I got up early on this beautiful Sunday and started cooking. It worked. I wasn't chomping-at-the-bit 20 minutes after I ate. I had a bunch of energy after eating, thus making it possible to have a productive day. And I made enough to have left-overs for breakfast the next few days.

My fritatta included eggs, chicken apple sausage, zucchini, scallions, a yellow onion, fresh spinach, sea salt, black pepper and a *little* bit of cheese on top.

Things I Need - Part 2

A Hello Kitty sewing machine might just complete my life. Think I'm kidding? Well I'm not. Not even a little.

"Sew Pretty. Sew Perfect".

Oh, Bucko.

Bucko never ceases to amaze us with is funny little ways and it is never a dull moment in our household as long as Bucko is around. For those who haven't met this spastic little guy, he is a lover and probably the cutest little dog you'll ever meet. I'm not just saying this because he's my dog. He truly is one of a kind. I can't imagine our life without this little friend of ours. This dog has more personality than most humans I know.

When The Boy and I first started dating, he hated dogs. I mean... he didn't just dislike them a little, he seriously hated them. He would make comments about dogs when he saw dogs on walks and wouldn't allow his friends to bring their dogs in his house. He made his opinion about dogs very clear when I told him I had a dog and then assured me that no dog would ever win his heart.

Enter Bucko.

The Boy fell head over heels for Bucko almost immediately. On Bucko's first visit to the Boy's house (before I moved in) I was beyond nervous. I kept him on my lap all the time and made him sleep in his kennel the first night. The next day The Boy made Bucko a bed to lay on in the living room. He even told me to let him run around a little. After picking my jaw up off the floor, I took him him off the leash and we all sat around and watched a movie.

The following weekend was our first trip to the Albany Bulb, where The Boy insisted on walking Bucko. "I got it", he'd say. This is where I witnessed The Boy pick up dog shit for the first time; yet another jaw dropping experience. Soon thereafter, their love became a bond and they were inseparable. They would snuggle together and eventually ended up spooning every night, which continues to this day. When I have protested Bucko sleeping in our bed with us I was firmly shot down, for Bucko would be staying right next to his Dad. I started to develop a little resentment towards this relationship between the Boy and the Dog, as I was not included in this special love and after all, it was my friggin' dog. Bucko had clearly decided who his favorite human was and it was no longer me.

After Bucko met the rest of the Alligers, he fell in love with them too and they fell in love with him right back. One mention of the word "Grandma" and Bucko goes into a spinning, barking frenzy. He loves our Monday dinners and I swear he knows when it's Monday; when we get home from work he has an inquisitive look on his face and cant sit still as if he's anticipating something glorious.

Recently we moved back to the street the Boy grew up on and are sharing an adorable little duplex with the Boy's sister Tara and her husband Nino (Hi Tara!). Bucko loves this more than bacon. We share a front porch with two doors, one to each of our units. The only person that can step on this porch without him barking is his Auntie Tara. He actually begins to cry, as if he can't live without her and wants nothing more than to go over to her side and make himself at home. Quite often we will leave the gate that joins our back yards open, so Bucko can roam back and forth as he pleases. After we've retired for the night we have left the gate open once or twice. I have found Bucko on the back porch next door, in the dark, just hoping and praying they will open the door and let him in. It's quite amusing.

Since the Boy and I work together and live about two miles from work, we go home at lunch every day. We let Bucko out in the back yard to run around and get some fresh air. The other day I walked outside mid-lunch and expected to find Bucko eating grass or laying on the lounge chair he loves. He wasn't there. I assumed he was in the house laying around and started to head back inside. When Jory suddenly started laughing and Bucko appeared out of nowhere next to the fence, I realized he had been sneaking into his Auntie Tara's back yard. Probably to lay on her beautiful grass or sit and wait patiently on her back porch. It was so funny I couldn't be angry at him.

Below is Bucko's entrance into the secret garden, Auntie Tara's back yard. Notice that there's only about 3 inches of space. He managed to squeeze his little body through, in the name of love. The Boy has since put a board up so that Bucko does not escape next door and will therefore be forced once again to hang out with the mother he has written off, me.


This photo is of Bucko and Me, before he stopped loving me:

And this one I just threw in because he's effing adorable:

I look forward to sharing more of Bucko's experiences and funny little ways with you.

My Caffeine

I came to a realization today at lunch. I was driving back to work and realized that my utter exhaustion seemed not-so-bad as soon as I turned the music on my radio. It was like a jolt of energy had hit my body, like the music was my caffeine. Then I really started thinking about it some more.

The one thing that ever got me motivated to exercise is music. When I start my car and head to work the first thing I do to warm up is put on KISS FM and dance in my car to Double Dutch Bus to get my day going. When I'm too exhausted to edit photos, I turn on the iTunes and jump to it. I like absolutely every genre. Every single one (although there are certain examples of each I could do without).

I was passed down the love-for-music gene from my father. I've never met anyone with more of a vast memory, knowledge and diversity of musical interests than him. Every person in my family is a musician, we all play instruments and are vocally gifted (them more than I).

It is my wish that my son have the same love and passion for music as I do. I hope it gets him moving and motivates him the same way it does his family. I don't care if he is a musician so much that I hope he appreciates the music that surrounds him. I hope it has the power to change his moods like it does for me. I will start playing music for him soon after he's born and can't wait to share music with this little guy.

As someone onece said, "a world without music would be a mistake." And it's so true.