Friday, March 27, 2009


In the midst of grocery shopping last night, out of the corner of my eye a glimpse of yellow beamed at me.

"OH! They're beautiful!" I exlaimed.

"Just like in Big Fish!" said Greg.

And immediatly I had to restrain tears because I thought of this-

And then I thought of us, and how beautiful that movie is and the ending! I dare you to maintain a dry eye at the ending!

I've always been partial to Gerbera daisies, but suddenly this little golden flower bewitched me and I was inamored. I'm thinking of adding them in the wedding. They're also on sale too! $1.25 a bunch at Trader Joes , and $3.00 at Safeway. A little beacon of gold in a recession.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

One is the cutest number...

*I apologize in advance for the poor quality images. All pics were pretty much snapped when we found the time.

He WALKS now.

"Let him eat cake..."

Jack shares a birthday with my little brother Mitchell, so we did a two-for on the cake. Plus, Batman is badass.

We unfortunately didn't snap too many photo's. Most of the day was spent playing with Jack and loving on family. We got a bunch on video though.
Peace, love and cake,

Belated Pictures...

I found this little bear jumpsuit at Baby Gap one day and I couldn't resist. The urge was too great, and for good reason.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Things that I'm thinking, things that are sparking my attention...

Some people have inquired about the dress that I plan on wearing for my May nuptuals, so here's a pic to end the questions (hopefully)-

My mother-in-law found it and I totally love the woman X 10 for it! It fits the vibe we're going for and my requests for a boho/vintage inspired sundress. I'll most likely be pairing it with these very cute gladiator sandals I found at Urban Outfitters, although I've been contemplating chunky/strappy wedges like so-


I need to stop looking online at all this stuff or we'll be dining on Easy Mac for the rest of our lives.

-Music I've been listening to and gushing over lately-

"C Is The Heavenly Option" by Heavenly
"A New England" by Billy Bragg
"Van Helsing Boombox" by Man Man
"Ladies and Gentlemen, We're Floating Through Space"- Spiritualized
"My Way" by Sid Vicious (I LOVE this version. Most people side with Ol' Blue Eyes, but even the original guy that wrote the song, Paul Anka, allegedly enjoyed Vicious' version better. Plus Sinatra was kind of a douche. Not that Sid is any more of a prize but whatever.)

Start your downloading engines and give 'em a listen!

- We've been looking for a new place to move in around June, and it's been a pain. Or rather, the IDEA has been a pain. We've moved like 6 times in the last 2 years, and at first our nomadic lifestyle was kind of cute but the though of moving again makes me cringe. Last moving sesh was in the middle of the summer, lugging very heavy furniture down two flights of stairs from our apartment while simultaneously tending to Jack who was about 4 months old at the time. I vowed NEVER to do it again and distinctly remember telling Greg- "I'd rather take a cheese grater up the arse than do that again!" I guess I ought to start bending over, because here we are, purusing Craigslist at all hours again.

All the moving hell aside, I'd be lying if I said I didn't desperately want a place to call our own. Preferably a place with wood floors. I'm a sucker for them and hold that they make everything in the house look that much better. Plus, we plan on giving Jack a sibling...a puppy sibling.

- Looking for places doesn't go without looking at stuff to decorate said place. There is an extremely frusterated interior decorator/nester lying inside these bones, and I've been cooing over decor and housewares on Etsy all the live-long day. I should probably get back to momming and other productive things soon. But not until after I look at 350 more pages of handcrafted tea sets and wall art.

-I've been craving meat like a mofo. I'm not sure why, as I usually don't gravitate towards tastes of the flesh, but lately everytime we pass In-N-Out Burger I scream at Greg to make a pit-stop.

I then hold my fist up like I'm going to punch him, because mock spousal abuse is a fun pastime for me. But mostly it's to make a point. "Hamburger or bruised balls buddy? Choose wisely. "
I'd fear I was pregnant again, but then that IUD would make it sort of hard for baby production. I guess I just need more protein. I eat carbs like they're going out of style.

Speaking of going out of style- WTF is this shit?

I'm a fan of the boho/hippie look. I dig it. But this trend is rigodamndiculous. I see it ALL the time around the University area. Chicks rocking these atrocities while simultaneously carrying $900 bags and shorts OB-GYN's would be embarassed by. Oh, and let's not forget to top it all off with some Uggs! A part of me wants to snap it against their forehead and yell "NO!" But usually I say nothing and go home and write about it in my blog. I'm an American, damnit!....

Sorry for being such a cynic.

- I've been meaning to post pics of Jacks birthday, but I'm also a procrastinator. Soon, I swear.

Headband-thingy free since 1988,


Reason #89 of why I want a Bully...

They make badass coloring books.
*picture from

A MEME and a HEHE...

Because I can't resist inane lists or info about someone! Here's 25 random tidbits on me and Jack.


1. I cry. A LOT. Whether I'm extremely happy, moved, upset, anxiety ridden, over-caffienated, inspired, adrenalined out, anything- it shows through my tear ducts. It's embarassing and borderline problematic. It's also one of the reasons I took up writing. Writing it out is the ONLY way I can get what I need to say across while saving the tears and consiquently my make-up.

2. I HATE the term "booty". I hate it, hate it, hate it.

3. I have an insane soft spot for animals, and a majority of the time prefer them to people. When I was a kid I used to open the car door while still in motion and scream at my mom to pull over if I saw a stray dog, cat, turtle. I still do on occasion.

4. I also have an insane soft spot for David Bowie. Most people actually know this about me. Since I was a child from watching the Labyrinth until the tape wore out, literally, to now. He's somehow popped up at every phase in my life. I feel he represents change, re-invention, longevity, and for me a sort of comforting nostalgia.

5. I adore T.S. Eliot and reading his works puts me in a peacful zen mood. His words are my lullabies.

6. I HATE chicken. When I was a kid and my parents made it for dinner, it was known as "Peanut Butter & Jelly Night" for me. The only chicken that I've ever ate without sheer protest is Greg's mothers' recipe. I don't know how she does it, but its the only time I don't gag it down.

7. I have an insane memory (usually), and can re-call lines from movies I've seen once years ago. I think its from being in Drama for two years and being forced to memorize and recite (without help) pages of monologues and plays.

8. I wanted to be a comedian on Saturday Night Live when I was a pre-teen. I even wrote a letter to Lorne Michaels informing him of my hopes for one day being in his 'outstanding cast of characters'. This was in middle school.

9. I absolutely LOVE the elderly. I want to sit down with every old person I can and hear their story over glasses of Arnold Palmer's. I cherish my visits with my grandparents.

10. I've never bought myself jewelry (not any valuable stuff anyway, just random stuff from Target..on sale of course), yet there are a few pieces that I own that are some of my most beloved possesions. My ring from Greg (engraved with messages to each other), a ring my grandfather and grandmother had matching sets of (they are silver bands with engraved stars on them, my aunt sandy has the other), a locket I found at a thrift store, and two jewelry items Gregs parents got me on their travels. I wear the rings every day.

11. I can watch birthing stories, home make-overs, and stories about haunted places for HOURS on end. I also always watch 'I Love the 80's' (70's and 90's too) every time it's on, despite the fact that I've seen them all more than several times, which leads me too...

12. I have seen every episode of 'Scrubs' at least 5 times and will watch them all again when they're on. It's so bad that I actually have dreams about the characters and a story in which I am entwined (usually a love affair with Dr. Cox OR that I'm J.D.'s baby's momma) at least once a week. I wish I was joking.

13. I believe the best look for a man is that of a dapper englishmen. The guys from Interpol have it down pat and I swoon over them for it. Ohhhh vessssssts...gahgahgah!

14. 95% of my wardrobe comes exclusively from Buffalo Exchange, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

15. I make mix c.d.'s for those near and dear to my heart.

16. I want to learn how to use a sewing machine. I feel it could open tons of doors for me if I mastered it.

17. I think rocking chairs are creepy. Everybody told me to get one though when Jack was born as it would sooth him. We did. It's now on our front porch, since I won't have it in our house.

18. Pet Sematary is the ONLY horror movie that has succesfully chilled my core, even though it's totally cheesy. I recently read the book and afterwards went through a brief bought of depression and paranoia from it. I saw a cat the other day that looked EXACTLY like the one from the movie and I crossed the street, it freaks me out that much.

19. I love the sound Jacks diaper makes when he crawls around. It makes me laugh and fills me with warmth all the time. I think that one sound ranks very highly on my PRO'S list for being a parent.

20. I get a visceral reaction to hearing stupid comments and immediatly have to leave the scene if one is made. This is ONE of the reasons I can't stand many sorority girls.

21. That being said, I think intelligence is VERY sexy. If you know your music too...whew!

22. I can't stand the idea of being a 50's-esque housewife, yet I could watch every episode of Mad Men and be enthralled with Betty Draper.

23. I could eat any form of pasta for dinner every night of the year and be happy. I love it THAT much.

24. I believe that I have inherited the genes from my latin side that make me prone to fits of rage, jealousy and flamenco guitar.

25. I became good friends with my ex-boyfriends ex-girlfriend. We originally wanted to kill each other over him, and now we have dinners together. People find this weird and hilarious.

-------------------------------And a HEHE-----------------------------------------------------1. He dances to the intro to 'Superbad' like clockwork whenever we put it on, and loves disco music (wonder who he got THAT from).

. His middle name was almost 'Eliot' after the writer. Instead we chose 'Lee' for Greg's side of the family and his late uncle. It is very fitting for him now.

3. He shares the same name as the character Dr. Cox's son on Scrubs. This was NOT intentional. We discovered this one night while watching it when I was 9 months pregnant. It's a funny coincidence, I think.

4. He will eat ANYTHING you hand him. It causes a lot of anxiety on my part.

5. His hair is of a very weird pattern. He's got Gregs hair to a tee on the top (they even have the same cowlicks), and he has my hair (curly and unruly like when I was a kid) at the bottom. There is a circular swirl in the center.

6. He LOVES the guitar and frequently tries to play it. I think its from watching Greg do it. It's also a very effective way to stop a tantrum.

7. He is obsessed with remote controls.

8. I played classical music for him through headphones stuck to my belly when he was in utero. He ended up liking rock and roll a hell of a lot more. He IS his mothers son.

9. He sucks his thumb so much he is developing a callous. I did the same as a baby/kid.

10. He talks to his Curious George stuffed animal a lot.

And thats all folks!

Monday, March 23, 2009

Dear Jack,

I am sitting here looking at baby pictures of you and stumped as to where time went. You are on the verge of your 1st birthday, and for the last couple days I have been on the verge of tears as I look at my 'baby' and realize that he is no longer a 'baby'. They said time would go by fast and I didn't listen. I covered my ears with my hands because "this baby just won't stop!" But you did. Eventually you stopped being able to only lift your head and started to roll around the floor. You stopped rolling and started crawling. You stopped crawling and started cruising. And just a couple weeks ago, you let go of the couch cushion and walked to me, arms in the air, laughing all the way.

You baffle me dear sir. Everyday I am constantly perplexed as I watch you. Sometimes, I am able to look at the world through your eyes, and suddenly it's not so scary. Even as this economy flails to keep it's head above water. Even as greed, envy, hate, and fear plague the world I live in, life in your world seems free. Free of corruption, innocent, hopeful. You are fearless.

The other day I spied on you. You were in your own world, sitting at the foot of the couch and reading one of your books. As you flipped the pages you laughed and babbled to yourself, and in the corner I cried. I have cried a lot since you've entered my life, and to my surprise, this is the first time in my life when the tears have been out of happiness.

I cried when I looked at your grey wide eyes, the first time we met and I cried when those eyes turned hazel like your fathers. I cried when we brought you home from the hospital and I cried when you got sick. I cried as I folded up your onesies because you were to big for them. And one day I'll cry because you will outgrow elementary school, and then middle school, high school, and I'll cry again as you leave us for college and life.

I remember after I had you, you all wrapped up like a burrito in your swaddling blankets and me in overbearing pain from the labor, your Great-Grandpa Chuck said- "This is the easiest part."

"This guy's smoking hasheesh," I thought. And now the idea isn't so crazy.

The hardest part is now. Realizing that you won't be this small forever and that those tiny toes won't be mine to bite anymore. It's all happening.

I look at the scar from the cut the doctors created to pull you into this world and I love it. It's a reminder of where you came from and that once you were so small. The tiny stranger I loved at first sight.

Thank you for that scar. Thank you for your courage and laughter and for making me manifest both. Thank you for hugging me tight around my neck, pressing your cheek to mine and smiling. Thank you for making me your mother. I have been filled with pride for the last year of my life, and pride I will feel forever.

Happy 1st Birthday! We love you more than you can fathom.

P.S.- Please stop growing so fast.

It's cool we can still be friends...

...or not.

"I think it would be best for our significant others if we go our seperate ways," he said to her.

The final blow. The cutting of the cord that had tethered three people. Severance. The end of a lifetime of friendships and memories.

I met him in high school. We had the same geometry class ran by a very traditional Indian woman.

"You like the Nightmare Before Christmas?" he asked, pointing to my messanger beg emblazoned with Jack Skellington.

"I LOVE the Nightmare Before Christmas and pretty much anything Tim Burton has touched," I replied, my heart racing. Somebody noticed me. Me! The girl with the mousey hair and heavy eyeliner. The girl whos voice was nearly crippled by adolescent angst and self-consciousness.

He graduated two years before me, and had much more of a life outside of school than I did. Studying the stars, driving through Gates Pass, a relationship with a beautiful college girl. I didn't know any of that at the time we met, I simply knew his name was Rene, and I knew I wanted to be his friend. This guy with green eyes and spikey raven hair, he was special.
When he graduated, I stayed behind. I went to classes, I grew and eventually blossomed (although I don't think I REALLY 'blossomed' until after high school), I had a precious handful of friends but was generally a loner. And all the while, through the monotony of classes, proms and events, boys and girlfriends, I thought of him. Did he still remember me? Should I try to reconnect?
Being the hopeless romantic I was, I decided to make the leap, drop a line. When I did I found, to my lucky stars, he was single (on a break from the college girlfriend he had, whom I would later befriend, but thats in a little bit).
We began to date the summer before my senior year. I was on top of the world. A girl like me (at the time a novice to the world and all things men) doesn't date older guys who seem so mysterious, who drive their own car capable of taking said girl to hidden desert landscapes to watch the Milky Way. A girl like me with an over-protective father capable of scaring away mysterious boys who come to take his only daughter to movies or dinners. But we did. Balls to the walls.
Summer came and went and before I sarted my senior year of high school I feared that our romance would have the fate of July's monsoons. Intense yet short lived. I feared some other witty, sexy, legally able to drive collegiate minx would sweep him off his feet and I would be yesterdays news. To my surprise we made it work. We made it work for nine months, but that's not to say it was easy. He lived downtown. I lived with my parents, had no car, but a bus pass and an arsenal of lies and excuses lined up for when my parents asked why I was coming home at 6 p.m. when school let out at 2:25.
"Swim practise!"
"Lunch with the girls!"
"So and so needed help with her essay!"
"Yearbook layouts! Damn those deadlines!"
They didn't know I was downtown visiting my boyfriend. My father would have castrated him and locked me in a chastity belt. A chastity belt AND six dobermans chained to my hips.
We kept our romance going as long as we could, even as the currents of life got rockier and rockier. College was tough. High school was tough. My parents divorcing in front of my eyes, and not always civily was tough. We held each others hand and pushed through. Through my tears on the phone. Through the divide in area codes. And when the worst happened, when his father died suddenly and unexpectedly, I held him at the end of the memorial service, my father gave his mother a hug, my mother held my hand. It was the first time, in a long time that my family was together and it was the first time, in a long time, that we understood what mattered.
I never cried so much in my life, at one point having to walk out of the ceremony to hyperventilate in the women's restroom as my friend Samantha held me. I don't know why I was so immensely effected, I had only met his father a couple of times. I suppose it was pain I could feel in him that I couldn't mend. It was the pain I felt in his mother, a widow at an untimely age. The silences and the words that get caught in your throat. I thought I would run out of tears. I was wrong.
We broke up about a month later. He needed to find himself and time to heal. I couldn't see past the hurt. I hated the world. Why couldn't I take the pain away? Why was MY family falling apart? Why did his dad have to die? Why does my heart hurt so bad?
I fell into a low. Chain smoking every night, having sex with people I barely knew just to make it seem like I was wanted. Brushing people off. Cutting myself (literally and spiritually). No appetite. No faith. I was merely existing at best.
It wasn't until I met my current fiance Greg, that I began to heal myself. I began to deal with my demons and in turn I fell in love. I opened myself up once again and this time for good. Everything was good, and with my newfound lease on life, I realized things I should have a long time ago.I accepted the fact that he had to leave me. I respected the fact that he had to get himself together. It wasnt that I wasn't enough. It was that the problem wouldn't have been mended with ME. It lied within him. But I wondered: How was he?

Rene, was dating Colleen again. Trying to get back on track, living, dealing.
"Colleen", I thought. "The girl he left me for" I assumed. I hated her, and it went back to when we were dating. Colleen was a long time friend of his, and their history left me intimidated and thus defensive.
Little did I know, that they would break up, and one humid summer night I recieved an e-mail from Colleen. We had only exchanged insults and threats before, so I was wary of opening it. When I did, I didn't realize I was opening a new door. She apologized for her actions from the past, she was hurt and needed someone to talk to, someone who knew exactly how she felt at that moment. Our mutual experience at heartache turned into a friendship that we still cultivate today.
I learned a lot about Colleen. Her history with Rene, her personality. "How could I have hated this person?" I thought. This person who gave so much of herself, emotionally invested and sacrificed. I learned a lot about relationships by hearing of her's and Rene's. Of the ebs and flows and how sometimes things aren't always shiny and happy, but it's what brings two people together that counts. An adoration and respect of character that gets one through and reminds one to stop and refrain from throwing it all away. Friendship.
In the end, even though romantic relationships may not work out, sometimes you are lucky enough to seperate yourself from the mindset of "a lost romance" to "a salvaged friendship." Colleen had and has always wanted to make sure that frienship stayed. Even through fights, and other women who took him for granted, she was there. To take him to work when he was without a ride. To cook, talk, help, and care for and about him. I respected her immensely for it. The ability to still love someone without being "in love" with them.
Colleen has since moved on to a wonderful relationship with a wonderful man. I have since become a mother to a son and fiancee to the same man that saved me. Colleen and I still maintain a frienship. And Colleen and I still care about Rene. Our significant others may wonder why sometimes, but they support us, knowing where they stand and secure in their places in our lives.
So how come there must be a severance? How come after my congratulatory words to him about his new relationship and Colleen's support through thick and thin must ties be cut? I may never know, as I have been told that I must be stayed away from.
It may hurt, that my frienship, OUR friendships, are being tossed to sea so frivilously, but I have come to understand that change happens. Colleen and I still have each other and the memories. One day we may be talking over dinner and we'll hope he's doing well. One day maybe EVERYBODY can get along. One day, maybe Rene Pena will know we have always cared and will always be there.

Even if it's silent.

Writing Vows

Never in my wildest dreams did I think my life would be what it is right now. If you would have told me in high school, "hey you're going to have an unplanned pregnancy with the man of your dreams when you're 20," I probably would have just snickered and continued writing bad poetry in the back of my english class. Never would I have thought that the dude that randomly messaged me on Myspace late one lonely summer night would be planning a wedding with me and simultaneously changing our 11 month old sons diaper. The past 3 years have been...surreal but REAL.
I have been struggling with what I should write down to profess my love for this person in front of our closest and dearest friends and family. Everything I have thought of pales in comparison to what I feel, doesn't hold a candle to what we hold between us late at night and just before work in the morning. Everything I have ever written, all of this amateur writing career I have been pursuing, nothing will be more important than what I write for May 2nd. Words to seal our relationship with. Words to lead us into another chapter as a man and his wife. I'm beating my brain and squeezing for pulp. How many ways can you say "I love you, and I want to be with you forever"? How can I say that without being cliche and pushing people's gag reflex?

Oi vey. Writers block. Dilema. I've fallen and I can't get up!
Last night around the dinner table, we were discussing the big W, and the topic had drifted into the question of who would marry us. Greg and I aren't religious by any means. With Greg being a scientist persuaded more by logic, and with me being a recovered Mormon (using Heather Armstrong's terminology- great blog), we aren't really in the market for full fledged priest's or rabbi's and the like (unless of course I could use Woody Allen as a rabbi- I'd convert to Judaism in a heartbeat!). So who would be the one to do the deed?

We originally thought of one of Gregs brothers. Apparently you can get certified online for $150 to marry people. But then we'd have to pick between the two, which we both dislike the idea of. It wasn't until Greg's Aunt Elizabeth, started talking about this movement back in the day (60's-70's) where people were getting ordained into the Universal Life Church ( to marry friends and family. We all laughed and discussed. "Oh the 60's"... and I thought of such a church's clergy looking, well, like this-
Polyphonic Spree

And that they prayed to Mother Earth, the Sun, and Jimi Hendrix. But then Greg's father chimmed in with something surprising- he had been one of the many people that had been ordianed way back in the day. We laughed. We thought he was joking. We laughed some more when he actually brought out his licence.
So there we go. Thanks to his fathers actions in the late 70's (I'm assuming since it was before David, Greg's older brother, was born), we found ourselves the person who'd marry us.
He had been eating lasagna with us all along.

All Apologies...

So I haven't been updating this here blog in awhile. I have a few blogs on the interwebs and generally rotate between writing on Myspace and waxing poetic on Facebook. Yes, I'm a blog whore. But I recognize this and realize that I must settle down sometime, have a blog to call my own and lock it down. Thus, I started this blog, and already I'm flaking out. I'll get to uploading some of the blogs I worked on and I'll try to be more diligent with this one. Scouts honor.

A lot of stuff has gone down at the Casa de Martin. In fact, I can actually say things like "Case de Martin" or "Martin Household" or even "THE Martin's", because well, it's legal now. Greg and I have locked it up for realzis and I am now officially Amanda Martin. Though we're legally married, we haven't had the whole ceremony/reception, but we're working on it and on May 2nd, we'll see the fruits of our labor. It's going to be a small, intimate affair. We've invited 45 of our closest family and friends and are going to relish in a night of love, fun, mexican food, margaritas, and Tucson sunsets. I'm quite jazzed. We're quite jazzed.

I've been fighting off a sinus infection the last few weeks and I think it's planning on staying longer unless I battle it with antibiotics. And I don't do antibiotics. Especially since they can effect your birth control, and if there's one thing that needs controlling around here it's my uterus. I don't plan on having any more babies for A LONG time. Did you hear me uterus? A LOOOONG time! So you better have a powow with those sinus cavities and tell 'em to ease up on a broad.

Jack just turned one. Yes, there will be pictures.

In fact, I ought to get started on that. So without further adieu, here's some older blog-a-logs to annoy and subdue the senses!