Shocker.

This week has been tough. The rain kept us indoors for hours at a time. Nothing will make a baby and a Mama more stir crazy than looking at the same toys for hours on end. So when the sun came out on Thursday I decided to straighten my hair, put on a dress, and head to the park.

We left at 11:30am. From 11:45 to 12:45 we were playing in the sand, practicing pulling up, and going down the slide. Who could have known what was happening at home.

At 1:00pm I was minutes away from putting Oliver down for a well deserved nap. As always I opened the door, guided the stroller in, and pulled Oliver out and into my arms.

Having just recently experienced diaper rash for the first time I know you can't change diapers often enough. As I walked towards Oliver's room to change him I noticed the bathroom door was open. Hmm. I thought it was closed when I left. I kept walking.

Next I noticed tons of change and perfume samples scattered on the floor. Huh. Strong wind gusts must have knocked over something...but wait...I turned the corner and looked into my room and saw all the contents of my dresser including the drawers on the floor.

SHIT.

PANIC.

SOMEONES BEEN IN HERE.

ARE THEY STILL HERE?

GET OUT NOW.

RUN.

With Oliver still in my arms I run towards the door and with all my might try to open the door. But I can't. It's stuck. No matter how hard I try, I cannot open the door. It's stuck on something and won't open. That's when I see the living room. The storage trunk is flipped over and everything is dumped onto the floor.

LET ME OUT.

I CANT GET OUT.

IS THE PERSON STILL IN HERE?

SHIT.

SHIT.

LET ME OUT!

I call the super since he works in the building and always answers. He answers on the first ring and I scream into the phone my apartment number, that I'm stuck, and we've been burglarized. Within two minutes he's cracking open my door with a crowbar.

WE'RE SAFE.

OLIVER IS SAFE.

I AM SAFE.

The next five hours consist of policemen taking statements, detectives checking video surveillance, and forensics taking fingerprints off the mirrors. Also during this time we begin to realize all that's been stolen which consisted of nothing out of the ordinary... except for my perfume.

The most unnerving thing (there are many unnerving things about this) is that this was clearly an inside job. We live in a doorman building and there are 24 surveillance cameras throughout the building. Also, our apartment is on a rather high floor. This asshole took the stairs to get in and out. Why wouldn't they try the lower floors? And finally, I don't keep a regular schedule, I keep a baby's schedule. I was gone for an hour and a half and someone had to have been watching me and known exactly which apartment I live in.

The good thing is we were not home. The good thing is all material things can be replaced. The good thing is Oliver is okay. The bad thing is the memory, the loss of trust and sense of safety.

We put bats under our bed should we ever need them in the middle of the night.

My purpose in writing this is not to scare anyone, rather to raise awareness that even when we think we live in safe areas with locks on our doors and doormen acting as gatekeepers to our privacy you must always be on top of your security.

Please be safe and aware. Knowledge is power.

Obviously...

I have 7 friends that are pregnant and they keep asking me for advice. Obviously they should buy tons of burp cloths and diapers, and obviously they should test drive different strollers. Not-so-obviously, they should take everything from their hospital room that isn't nailed down. Mostly though, I tell them to sit back and enjoy the ride. They'll figure it out, every mom does...obviously.

Having a baby is incredible, shocking and miraculous. This might should like it should be obvious too. But for me, it wasn't.

I found pregnancy, labor and the months that followed incredible because of the straight-up physicality it involved. The toll it takes is a hefty one. Your back, abs and brain permanently change. You will never feel stronger or more impressed with your body than during this time. Anytime you feel doubt, remind yourself that you. gave. birth.

The very fact that I grew a human being is shocking. This isn't a news flash to scientists, but one minute he was inside of me and the next minute we were breathing the same air. I marvel at how he merely exists. Now that we're in his 8th month of life I watch him take on new challenges daily. He pulled up to a stand position three days ago and my heart skipped a beat. He says Da-Da all day long and he has learned to mash food with his gums. I know every baby masters these mundane tasks, but when they happen to you it's immediately blog and facebook-status worthy.

Miraculous. This is the way my soul feels when I hold Oliver and he cuddles into the nook between my chin and shoulder. And the anticipation to be with him grows day by day, minute by minute, and is at times overwhelming. Tears of joy flow freely in our small apartment. My heart is full and I have never known such pride, peace and contentment.

So, my advice for my dear pregger friends is the same advice passed down by generations: Hold tight to every moment...obviously.

New York Crazy

Dear New York City,

Really. Enough is enough. During past 9 months you have exhausted me.

1-Lets discuss the whole United Nations business last September. You really had to host a 2 week summit and invite every world leader here during the exact time I went into labor? I would have given birth in a taxi had it not been for a police escort and ambulance that rescued us.

2-How about after bringing my baby home from the hospital Lehman Brothers closes and the stock market's bottom falls out? Really New York? I still can't walk anywhere near the Citi building even though it stands on the most popular street in Tribeca. The police surround it daily and yesterday the bomb squad was out full force. Perfect conditions for a neighborhood stroll.

3-New York, do you realize I am used to the sound of helicopters? That's because they hover over my head ALL the time. First the hovering was because a certain miracle plane landed in the Hudson due west of our apartment. Then they hovered because Bernie Madoff was sentenced in court exactly due east. And 3 weeks ago, they hovered because the Obama's were going on a date. Funny, I was on a date too, but couldn't focus because of the sniper hanging out of the helicopter.

4-Now that JT and Jessica live in the hood, I assume we'll be seeing more than the usual annoying paparazzi. Fine, we see celebs at Whole Foods, at Pizza stands and in the park but seriously paparazzi, let them be. This way, you'll be letting me be too.

5-New York kids are weird. I grew up having lemonade stands that consisted of me buying crappy lemonade and selling it for 5 cents a cup on my front lawn. If I made 3 dollars, I was psyched. New York kids also set up lemonade stands. Not in their front lawn because they all grow up in apartments. These kids stand outside of Whole Foods and charge a dollar for a cup of crappy lemonade, $5 for a french pastry, and $10 dollars for a violin solo. Huh?

You never cease to shock and amaze me. Maybe you can give me a break and make this a chill summer. I really need one. Thanks New York. I appreciate it.

xo,

Alexis

My little big boy...

My gym, Equinox, has a kids club. This means that for a small fee I can have 3 or 4 women play with my baby for 2 hours while I exercise-off my last 20 10 pounds. I've known about this feature for months now, but since Oliver is so attached to me I dreaded leaving him with anyone else for fear he would go bonkers. Instead I've been speed walking the West Side Highway and the Brooklyn Bridge with Oliver in his stroller. Needless to say, this hasn't done the job and my skinny jeans are mocking me.

I decided it's time to get serious. And serious means the gym. And the gym means the kids club. And the kids club means Oliver could go bonkers.

The next morning, I woke up and immediately threw on my gym clothes so I would have no excuses. After Oliver's 9am nap, we headed over and I got the scoop. No sick kids, no kids under 3 months, and no diaper changes. If there's a code brown, they give you a pager and beep you so that you can do the honors.

Easy enough. I unstrap Oliver from the stroller and his eyes bug out of his face when he sees all the kids playing and all the toys on the floor. He's clearly psyched.

I sit him down on the floor and the women say "Okay!"

I look at them and say "Okay."

They look at me and and say "Okay?"

I look at them and say "O-Okay..."

They look at me, reach out a hand to my shoulder and say, "It will be okay."

I look at them and say "Okay."

I turn and leave quickly because I'm mortified it is not Oliver going bonkers, it's me.

PATHETIC!

See, it wasn't that Oliver wasn't crying that in turn made me cry. It was that this was such a big boy thing to do. He was so mature! So adult like!

Of course, as I write this, he's crying in his room because he does not want to nap. What a baby.

Weekend at the Park

After a long work week, it's no surprise that Daddys run to the park on Saturdays and Sundays with their children to catch up on missed fun. And Mommys run to the salons to get manicured and highlighted.

Daddys get down and dirty in the grass and mud. They ride in the choo-choo and dig holes to China in the sandbox. Hells bells, they even hoist baby onto their shoulders so the highest branches can be reached.

There is nothing Daddys won't do for their offspring.

I think it's all pretty sweet.

I also think it's amazing. Physically amazing. You see, most of these Daddys happen to be in their mid-50's. I've not the faintest idea how they toss and flip and bend and jump over and over at their toddler's whim! They certainly don't look like they're in shape. They're overweight, gray-haired wine drinkers, yet they give little Johnny the best horsey ride of his life.

We are lucky we live in a time where medically speaking miracles are possible. I am 100% in favor of however and whenever you want to have a family.

The takeaway from this is not that these men are fathering children in their 50s, but rather that these daddy's are fully engaged despite their age.

Keep rockin' it Da-Da.