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Three Good Reasons

These are the three biggest reasons I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving that do not involve food. (Unless of course they're really REALLY bad.) 

Five, maybe six people I know who regularly read this thing are probably falling over in a dead faint right now, not because I've threatened cannibalism in the first sentence, but because I'm actually excited to see children. As The Varmint's mom (better known as The Baby Whisperer) and anyone who knows me will tell you, I'm not exactly a baby person. But see? They're cute. And they have this insidious way of worming themselves into your good graces. 

For the longest time, all I could see was the poop, the screaming, the zombified parents, the poop, the embittered moms, the tantrums, the gimme-gimmes, the spitup, the messes (Lordy Lordy - THE MESSES), the dirge for adult conversation, our friends going catatonic and then dropping by twos out of our lives, the wailing, the whining, the obsessive petting, patting, feeding, cooing, babytalking, fretting and horrid discussion of the poop the poop the poop.

I'm sorry, people. From the outside, it ain't pretty. As a matter of fact, I was shocked that the human race has continued to propegate itself after what I'd witnessed. I mean, come on, THAT or a vacation in Thailand? No brainer.

And then, it happened. I can pinpoint the exact moment that I blew my own mind by noticing that I missed my nephew: I was driving away from my brother's house in Santa Barbara and I felt my stomach get that sinking feeling you get when you know you're not going to see someone for awhile. It took a second, but I realized that I was missing my nephew. I doublechecked that emotion, fairly sure of a mis-wire (after all the kid had used my inflatable mattress as a trampoline and I'd caught my brother sticking one of his dirty diapers into my suitcase as a going away gift), but nope: It was the kid.

It wasn't long after that The Toybox arrived here in the house - no small feat for a residence that guards its storage-to-living space ratio with a fever reserved for astronauts and inmates. Shortly after The Toybox arrived, an amazing thing happened: So did my long lost parental friends. Now, they come over. The kids play with the toys. We talk about stuff that does not relate to diapers and *gasp* we occasionally drink a beer.

Who knew that $50 worth of toys and a Tuffcrate were enough to double the size of your social circle?

(In order: Kaio, Trajan, Livia)

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I am a writer and lazy artist who loves travel, architecture and design. Right now, I'm into photography. My fabulous husband (a.k.a. The Varmint) and I are also the principals of a San Diego-based creative agency - and new parents to the divine Baby Mak. Read More >