I woke up extra early yesterday to ensure I would get to work a little early.  I wanted to make sure I got off a little early.

I raced to pick up Babboo at school. Then we raced home.  I frantically got the meat for dinner doused in marinade while crazily throwing sunscreen, water bottles and swim diapers into the backpack.

I took my work clothes off and threw them on the bedroom floor while I shimmied into my bikini and cover up.  Babboo and I put our sandals on, I grabbed a blanket and my sunglasses and we raced out to load the car.

I open the sunroof; pumped up some Old 97’s on the stereo and we drove the 45 minutes to meet up with some old friends at the wading pool at a city park.

“Do you want to go swimming with Bronzx and her mommy?”

“Yes!”

“Do you want to put your swim diaper on and get in the water?”

“Oh, Yes.  Babboo want to go swimming!”

“Do you like to swim?”

“Oh yes!”

Finally(!) we got to the park.  I parked the car, loaded my arms up with all of our gear and we hurried to find our friends, who were waiting for us.

I put the blanket down on the grass and, for the first time that day, relaxed a bit.  I got Babboo all ready to get in the water, the entire time asking him if he was excited to get in the water.

Oh yes, he was very excited.

Once he got in the water, all he wanted to do was this:

“Don’t you want to play in the water?”

“No.  Babboo sit.”

“Do you want to go and splash over there with Bronx?”

“No. Sit here.”

“Well, at least smile for mommy.”

And that’s how the rest of our afternoon went.

Fun times.

I loved living in downtown Seattle. I loved the fact that I only had to walk a few blocks to get to my office. It was fun to be able to do shopping at any number of stores on my way home in the afternoon. I liked being able to cross the street to the book store and read gossip mags while Babboo played with their train set.

But most of all, I just liked being in the heart of all the action.

I’ll be the first to admit I’m not really a “heart of all the action” type person. I would never actively seek any type of action. Especially not the heart of the action. But I’m totally okay with the action finding me, say, if I lived in in said heart of said action.

Okay, so now that we’ve moved safely out of downtown Seattle I can talk a little more specifically about our life in downtown Seattle. (I hate to be all “oh, scary internet can’t know where we live”…but um yeah, the scary internet can’t know where we live.)

But now I can tell you that we lived here:

Our old apartment is one of Seattle’s more iconic buildings. It’s hard to miss, what with the roundness and the fact that they put a huge display of Christmas tree lights up every December. Plus it’s located rightnext door to The Paramount, one of Seattle’s major theaters. So we just had to tell people, “we live in the round building next to The Paramount” and everyone knew where that was.

Good for us, not good for my secret life on the interweb.

From our balconies we had the perfect (perfect!) view of what was happening in the heart of the action, without having to be in any actual action.

(See, I told you I only liked action from afar.)

Like all the many riots that I heard and watched via my couch:

Then there was the time they filmed that Charlize Theron movie outside our building. I stood at the window, camera poised, just waiting for some sort of shot that I could then sell to People magazine for a gazillion dollars. Of course all I got was a possible Charlize sighting.

Very possible. Wouldn’t you agree?

Then there was the time Mamma Mia! came to Seattle and I actually had tickets to see it with some of my SeattleMomBlog lady friends.

I was thrilled (read: nerdy!) enough to stand on my balcony and try to get a picture of me with the Mamma Mia! tour truck before I headed out to see the show.

There was also the time Death Cab for Cutie was in town (yes, we had tickets. Yes, we also had a small child. Yes, we sold our tickets). And I woke up on Saturday morning to see one of the member of the band packing up after their show the night before.

There was also the time we woke up to watch the beginning of the staging for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade outside our front room window.

We threw on our coats (but didn’t bother to brush our teeth!) and headed outside to watch the parade from the front door of our apartment building. Seriously, we sat on the front row of the parade and watched it in our pajamas and slippers.

Of course, in pure Isabel style, we decided to move out right as the pool was reopening for the summer. Not being able to partake in pool time this year will definitely be missed. (Although we have yet to see any sun here in Seattle. So whatever.)

And not having a gym to use anytime we want, for free, will be sad. But only a little sad as I honestly only used our gym a few times. (Dude, using any type of gym equipment becomes impossible when trying to do so with a toddler around. Impossible, I say!)

But I’m pretty sure having a grocery store that I can walk to (!!) from our new house will make up for missing out on the rest of this stuff in downtown.

Yep, I’m confident it will make up for it.

I hate to say it, but having a grocery store nearby is the type of excitement that I’m anxious to be in the heart of right now.

So tell me, do you like being in the heart of the action or do you prefer being near the action.

The spring of my senior year of high school was a crazy time. I was counting down the days to graduation and moving out to my own apartment. I was looking forward to becoming an adult, a college student, and having a job. (Maybe not in that order, but you know, whatever.)

I was also excited about getting away from my parents. We were at that stage where they weren’t sure if they could still tell me what to do and I wasn’t sure I would do what they told me to do. It’s was a very slippery slope and none of us were handling it very well.

It was an emotional (read: stressed) time for teenage Isabel.

What made things even more emotional was the fact that winter was sticking around that year. There was snow on the ground when there shouldn’t have been any freakin’ snow. My heart was black and the black sky wasn’t helping.

At some point I had a dream. I don’t remember the specifics of this particular dream. I just remember I woke up and knew that if I killed someone the snow would stop and the sun would shine again.

Dude, I told you I was pretty stressed.

Of course I didn’t kill anyone (that you know of!). But you get what I’m saying; I hate the snow. I hate lack of sun. I crave nice sunny weather.

And yet, again, we wonder why adult Isabel lives in Seattle.

I’ve been wearing my winter coat every morning on my way into the office. It’s the middle of May, and yet, still wearing the winter coat. While my coat is pretty cute and cozy, it’s a little too late in the year to still have to wear my winter coat.

My alarm went off this morning at 5:30, like always. But unlike always, I awoke to the sun peeking in through our bedroom window. At first I thought I had over slept. But then I realized, I hadn’t over slept.

The sun was actually shining in Seattle.

I walked into work today, sans my winter coat, with a smile on my face. (See, that’s me in the picture…with a smile.) (And that’s the actual reflection of the sun on the building!) (The sun!!)

It’s supposed to get up to ninety degrees today. Which is awesome considering it hasn’t gotten over forty degrees yet this year. (That may be a slight exaggeration, but you get what I’m saying.)

It’s the perfect way to start a weekend. A weekend where my bestest friend, May, will be in town visiting from Reno.

Bring on the sun, the crafting, and the outlet mall shopping.

I’m ready for it.

So tell me, have you ever thought about killing anyone? 

So tell me, do you like waking up to the sun shining in your room like I do? Or are you one of those freaks people that hangs black curtains in your bedroom so that you never see the sun?

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Holy crap, I don’t know why I had never seen this video before. It’s the music video for the song Rhett Miller did with Rachael Yamagata for their song “Fireflies”. And it’s awesome. Dude, you should really watch the video.

Sometimes I get selfish and forget to keep the internet in the loop of what’s going on in my life. Um yeah, that’s what happened last week. I sort of forgot to tell you that my folks were coming to Seattle to help celebrate Babboo’s second birthday.

We partied like he was turning twenty one. (Or maybe just three.)

The last four days will forever be known as Babboo’s Birthday Extravaganza Weekend. It started on Thursday night with a Birthday dinner at the local Red Robin. (Hey, I figured that was the only kid-friendly place we could all agree on.) There were about 11 of us and I’ll tell you what, it was loud. And fun. And Babboo got spoiled.

I took Friday off work (Praise the Lord!) and spent the day in the city with my folks. Babboo took this opportunity to sit Grandma down and show her all the things he’s been wishing for in the latest Toys R Us catalog. (Which, at our house, is referred to as “train book”. Even though only 2 of the 20 pages have actual trains on them.)

That night, which was Babboo’s actual birthday, The King and I sent my folks over to my aunt’s house, and just the three of us went shopping for a special gift for Babboo and a little dinner out.

We came home, bellies full of Mongolian food, the proud owners of a huge train set for our little birthday conductor. (Side note #1: the plan was for Babboo to give up his “sucker” on his 2nd birthday. Plans are in motion.) Thanks to Babboo’s relentless study of the “train book” we knew that Toys R Us was having a killer sale on trains. Killer sale. We could not refuse. And now, our tiny apartment doubles as a train station.

Good times.

(Side note #2: Last night, we had to take the train out and put it in the trunk of the car. If we wouldn’t have, our poor kid would have never gone to bed. Or eaten dinner. He’s addicted.)

(Side note #3: What is it with little boys and train sets these days? Seriously. I don’t remember my brothers caring about trains at all.)

Saturday, we dropped Babboo off at a friends house and painted some trim over at the new house. My folks, and even my aunt, came to help. My mom and aunt are great painters. My dad, alas, is not. I spent my time following behind him and fixing his paint drips. But, you know what, I didn’t even care. I was just happy to have them there helping.

And then we went to my cousin’s indoor soccer game. I would have much rather stayed at my aunt’s house and crocheted. But I’m glad I didn’t, since Babboo seemed to really enjoy seeing “kick ball”.

(Side note #4: My aunt is a freakin’ hard worker. I may have to ask her to come help us some more.)

(As per my usual M.O., I spent the entire meet event game taking pictures of myself. I allowed Babboo and my aunt to be in the pictures so I didn’t look like a complete tool taking pictures of just me.)

After the game we hit up Jamba Juice, Dairy Queen, and a local Mexican restaurant. In that order. Hey, I told you it was a Birthday Extravaganza Weekend.

Sunday arrived, and so did more parties with family. More gifts…

…and more dessert.

Pretty much, Babboo’s Birthday Extravaganza Weekend rocked. Not only for my Sweet Babboo, but for me too.

I’m back to work today, the tired mom of a two year old (two!). Crap, where did the time go?

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Remember when I asked you if I should cut bangs? Head over to see what my latest New Thing is! (Hint…it’s bangs.)

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Remember how I love the Old 97’s (Rhett Miller is their lead singer)?! Well, since they have a new album coming out on May 13th (my birthday!), they are scheduled to be on the Tonight Show this Thursday, the 24th to promote it! Now is your chance to give them a watch/listen and see/hear what the hype is all about. So set your Tivo’s/DVR’s for this Thursday. I mean it, you must watch this.

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So you didn’t win my gDiaper give-away? No problem, SeattleMomBlogs is having another give-away in honor of Earth Day. So head over and enter to win!  (SeattleMomBlogs is doing loads of fun give-aways this week, so keep checking back with them!)

Phone call with The King last night, on my walk home from work:

“I think the Dalai Lama must have arrived in Seattle today.”

“What makes you think he’s here already?”

“Well there’s a bunch of cops outside the hotel I just walked past. And I saw a bunch of dudes dressed up as monks.”

(insert pause for me to think about what I just said.) 

“Never mind, they aren’t ‘dressed up as monks’, they are actual monks! My bad.”

Now that Babboo is a little older, he’s been asking to “me walk” and not just ride around in his stroller. While I don’t blame him for wanting to live life a little more independently, him walking does make our daily walk home from school a little longer and more stressful. A few days a week we continue to use the stroller, just so he won’t totally shun it when we all go to Europe this September (dude, he will have to be in his stroller over there). This means that the other days in the week are spent sans stroller, with me saying things like “walk faster” and “I can’t hold you, you’re too heavy!”

Last week I decided I wanted to document our daily walk home from Babboo’s school for my mom. My family totally lives out in the middle of nowhere and I thought she would get a kick out of seeing Babboo navigate he way around the bus tunnel (Seattle’s smaller/cheaper version of an actual subway system).

Before I walked into the school, I pulled out my trusty camera and prepared for picture taking. I put the rest of my stuff in my backpack so I would be hands-free and be prepared for all the awesome shots I was sure to get.

And then I noticed my kid, standing in the corner with some toys. I said, under my breath “what the hell did you dress him in this morning King?” I figured, while in a hurry, The King had hastily thrown an old pair of jeans on Babboo. Upon closer inspection I noticed the pants seemed to be a little short and also flared-legged. Upon even closer inspection I noticed the back pockets had little flowers embroidered on them, with glitter thread.

My kid was wearing little girl capri pants.

“Mr. Babboo had an accident today. We didn’t have any spare pants for him to wear”, said his teacher.

You don’t say.

Oh well, I was prepared to document our walk home and no pair of little girl, flare-legged, glitter covered capri pants (size 12M!) was going to thwart these plans.

We made out way out into the heart of downtown Seattle. Babboo started walking, and I started taking pictures.

The poor kid was oblivious to the state of his ensemble.

Every time I stopped him to pose for another picture, I laughed even harder then before. Was it the fact that he had no idea that his front pockets weren’t it the right position? Or was it that he was wearing his tough new skater shoes with capri pants?

I wondered if I was a bad mom for insisting on taking pictures that particular day. Should I have waited until he wasn’t wearing little girl pants to preserve this memory? Should I have not even allowed my kid to wear girls pants in the first place? I’m not sure what the protocol is on that. Crap, is there even a protocol to letting your son wear little girl pants?

Oh well. Neither one of us seemed to care. We were too busy taking pictures of us together while we rode the bus home.

So tell me, what’s your commute home like?