Sense-Oh, that’s good!
It’s no secret I’m a coffee addict connoisseur. I like my coffee strong and black. None of this sugar and cream junk for me.
My family is well aware of my coffee-loving ways, and are eager to support my habit hobby. In fact, I learned after the fact that no less than three of them attempted to cherry pick a Senseo from my Christmas list. Amy deftly handled the situation so that we ended up with only one.
30 days into being a Senseo owner, I couldn’t be happier. It now sits lovingly on my bookshelf at work, with an open invitation for everyone to use it. Just BYOP (Bring Your Own Pod).
Next up in my Senseo journey: Making my own pods. Stay tuned…
BTW, if you’re into single serve coffee, my coworker Mr. Pott (Or “The New BCP” for those in the know) is also a Senseo connoisseur, and tipped me off to apply named SingleServeCoffee.com. I’ve been enjoying it greatly. 
And Now… A Word from the Cat
I have issues. There, I said it. The first step to recovery is to admit you have a problem, and I have a doozy.
It started about a year ago. My humans had been acting strange — talking to Amy’s belly and buying tiny little clothes. (I didn’t want to say anything, but the way Amy was puffing out like a blimp, I figured she should buy bigger clothes, not smaller ones.)
And then the Baby came. And I have to admit — he was a cute little guy. All tiny and cozy in his little blankets. I was a bit shocked by the amount of attention he received, and a bit appalled that I seemed to be sidelined. But I still managed to get some pats from Amy during Baby’s naptimes, and I still claimed my spot on the end of the bed at night. I could cope.
But here’s the thing. The Baby is growing. And learning. And laughing. My humans seem to love all this development. They smile along with him, dance with him around the kitchen, and get down on their hands and knees to play with his toys.
How utterly annoying. All that racket. All that giggling. All the time. I wasn’t cut out for this. I lead a quiet life of luxury and relaxation.
At least the Baby used to be contained. He would stay in one spot, and I could keep my eye on his every move:
But recently the Baby mastered a new feat: the crawl. Nobody warned me about this. Nobody asked for my approval. Nobody mentioned that the Baby might find it absolutely delightful to pull my tail and grab handfuls of my fur.
I’ve tried to communicate my displeasure with the situation. I’ve hissed at that child, and you know what he does? He laughs. Can you believe it? He laughs a at me: Mocha the Magnificent. Where is the proper adoration and respect that I deserve? And why in the world do my humans continue to tolerate the undignified treatment I am receiving from the Baby?
Let’s just say my life has become complicated and my psychological state is rather precarious right now. And I could use some sympathy from you, because frankly, I’m not getting any here. How has my life been reduced to this? Running from a Baby. Ranting on the Internet.
Excuse me. I need to go and search for a new hiding place.
Nojo Laughing
Amy caught me and Nojo having a good time before snack time tonight. I’m sure I’m a bit biased, but honestly - Best. Laugh. Ever.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Extm2IEJ7PE]
Is He Old Enough to Drive Already?
Here’s Noah taking a spin on his new car. It happens to be quite enviro-friendly as it runs on mommy power rather than gasoline. Unfortunately this fuel source has its down sides: It tends to run out after just a few laps around the house.
And here’s one more picture of our cute little guy.
Happy as can be.
Just Another Tuesday
Funny thing. When you start a blog you feel somewhat obligated to write on it. And then you ask yourself “Hmm. . . what shall I write about?” And then you realize how uneventful your life really is.
Not that I’m complaining, mind you. Who needs more excitement when your “normal” includes giggles from an 11-month-old and mischevious smiles as he crawls at warp-speed to chase the cat? Life is pretty good here in the Tol house, even if it is rather simple and predictable.
And since there’s really not much else to report, I’ll go back to sipping my coffee and leave it at that.
Noah’s Nine Month Pictures
I (finally) uploaded Nojo’s nine month pictures. I might be biased, but I really think it’s his best work yet. Gone is the novice smile of three month and the unsure sitting of six months. Here we have Noah taking the bull by the horns and really putting his heart into it — you can tell he really wants to become a professional baby. For example, take a look at “blue steel,” “the knowing look,” and — my personal favorite — “Aw shucks, Dad, you’re the greatest..”
But seriously, it takes a lot of preparation to get these great shots. Hours of napping. A dozen or so strategically placed stuffed animals. And frantic parents, wildly waving their hands and smiling until their teeth hurt. Really, it’s a tough business. But then again, have you seen the competition?
Disturbing News
Is anyone else sick of hearing about the Donald Trump/Rosie O’Donnell/Barbara Walters fiasco? I believe the news media has poisoned my psyche with their constant blathering about this feud. I’m even considering a lawsuit for damages inflicted on my emotional well-being. Consider the evidence:
1. On Tuesday night, I dreamt that Donald Trump had attended the Gospelcom fundraising dinner with us. Now, in theory, having a money mogul like Trump at their fundraising gig might not be a bad idea, right? But in my dream, I’d been tasked with keeping him entertained throughout the evening–and let’s face it, there’s no amount of money that’s worth that kind of torture. Of course, I grew tired of feeding his ego, and in the end, I left him to eat his salmon and steak by himself. (My dream-fogged mind thought he rather respected me for my pluck.)
2. On that same night, Brian dreamt that he’d gained a much-coveted role on the Apprentice. You’ll have to ask him for the details, but I think the gist of it was that he was about to be fired before he was saved from his fate by the alarm clock.
Think about this now. Here we are, simple people trying to enjoy a good night of rest. Tucked under the blankets in our flannel pajamas. Hoping to drift into a peaceful sleep. And Donald Trump waltzes into our dreams? This is disturbing, folks.
Stay tuned for news of my dream-erasing lobotomy.
Noah Crawling
And we’re off to the races! Noah skipped the “army crawl” phase and went right to the full-boar, get-outa-my-way crawl — on Christmas Eve, no less (a nice Christmas gift for Amy and me). We’ve since captured a bit of his new found powers and posted a clip to YouTube:
[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=GAQLWsxPncA]
Next up: flying, bending steel standing up.
Happy Birthday to Me
Well, I don’t really feel a day over 29. Wait, I’m not a day over 29. I am…officially…one year shy of the big 30. Whew! I better enjoy this one last year of youthful frivolity before joining the ranks of the officially middle-aged.
“So how did you spend your birthday?” Well how kind of you to inquire. I brought Noah over to Grandma Leep’s for the day so I could make some headway on a freelance writing project I’m working on. But lest you think I’m not doing anything special for this day, I will fill you in on Amy’s Birthday Perks for 2007:
1. I indulged in two cups of coffee instead of my usual one. Which, come to think of it, may explain why I’ve been so productive in the writing department today. (Shameful blog confession #1: Coffee is my muse.)
2. I spent a full half hour perusing my favorite bookstore: Amazon.com. With a gift certificate in one hand (thanks mom and dad Tol!), and the aforementioned coffee cup in the other, I had a delightful experience filling up my shopping cart with books. (Shameful blog confession #2: My purchases are not likely filled with sage wisdom or thought-provoking ideas–they are solely intended to keep my mind entertained during the long winter evenings ahead.)
3. I won’t count my Weight Watchers points today. I will not count them, not even for pay. Not counting by day. Not counting by night. Not counting when cookies just feel right. If ice cream sounds delightful to me, no points will I count and I’ll eat it guilt-free. I won’t count for breakfast, for snacks, or for lunch. I will not count points on anything I munch!
So there you have it: I’ve officially marked another year. And when I consider the joys of becoming a mom and the privilage of being at home with my son, I have to say that it’s been the best so far.
Check, Check, 1, 2, 3…
…is this thing on?
Welcome to the new tolhouse.wordpress.com, the landing page for Amy, Brian and Noah. And Mocha. (Can’t forget the cat, now can we?) Well, I doubt that Noah will be blogging here much (although I’m sure his picture will show up once or twice. And Mocha might try to blog by running over Amy’s keyboard. But mostly this will be for Brian and Amy to keep their friends and family up to speed with life, the universe and everything. (Bonus points if you can name the book I just quoted).
We make no promises about frequency or quality, but we’ll do our best to make sure it’s entertaining. So enjoy, and feel free to leave a comment. We’d love to hear from you.