Grammar, respectively...

Around the end of last year (when I originally started this blog, only to wildly procrastinate and start posting now), I Googled something about grammar (surely it had to do something with using "and I" or "and me" correctly) and I randomly found another blog in which a certain post was titled "Grammar". Turns out this blog is written by a man named Nik S. Clements who is a photographer (a pretty awesome one, I came to find) in Pennsylvania, who writes bits of his blog to his son.

http://niksc.com/blog/

Something that night made me stay up till much later than my then-new mom energy levels should have allowed, and I proceeded to read every post in that particular section of his blog. The section, called Dear Kyan, is filled with short little letters he writes to his son every time he says something clever/silly/sweet. They are each like little Kodak moments captured on a computer screen. Reading them, I felt part guilty, part lucky for being a fly on the wall of such a sweetly tender and playful place.

After reading them (all of them) I got to thinking of all the little moments like that that I had and would continue to have with Wyatt. Wouldn't it be great to have those documented for us to look back on one day while he puts a warm blanket over my old, cold bones as we sit by the fire and fondly recall the days of his youth? There are a million times a day where he makes me smile, or melt, or laugh out loud, or grit my teeth that I would love to be able to remember when I wonder where my teeny tiny baby boy went. And there was something about the way that Nik wrote to his son and signed off in each blog that was just what I would want to be able to do for Wyatt. Since I am not that clever on my own, one night, I wrote to him and asked his permission to *ahem* borrow his idea for my own modest blog that I think all of maybe three people are reading at the moment. He graciously allowed me to completely rip his idea off, kinda like that one time in junior high when I got an asymmetrical hair cut (I was so fashion forward, mind you) only to come to school two days later and see that very same cut on someone else...well, not exactly the same scenario, but you get the gist.

So from here on, when I have a moment with Wy that I want to be able to remember and share with you all (all three of you, that is) I am going to put it in a letter to my sweet boy and sign off in a very, Mama-who-wishes-she-came-up-with-this-idea-on-her-own, kind of way.

Thanks, Nik. I hope Kyan knows what a good papa he has...

Yee Haw!

Okay, so I'm a day late and a dollar short as far as this posting goes, but I am a busy mom who's learning to drive a stick-shift at the age of 28...sue me!

Well, as with any Debra Ramirez Birthday Production, it was a hit! The backyard was decorated with WANTED posters, bales of hay, a cow bounce house, and a prize winning chicken (no joke). I never had parties like this as a child, nor do I think any of my adult parties will ever be this elaborate, but far be it from me to keep a grandmother from her dream of completely spoiling her first grandson on his birthday - and I mean that in every sense of the word...I think he is still coming down from his sugar high.

We were all dressed for the theme, as we do even if not required. Wy looked adorable in his Wranglers, cowboy boots (that literally took us about 25 minutes to get on his chubby little Flintstone feet), cowboy hat and bandanna. I mean, too cute. Mike spent the two weeks previous to the party growing a part-Yeti-part-John Lennon beard only to shave it into a classic, cowboy moo-stache the day of. It was truly something to behold, I am telling you that.

It was great to have all the families come together- but really, all we had to say was rootbeer floats and Aunt Ketchy cake and the place was packed. I really love this family that I have married into, and I am so glad that Wy has a little bit of country blood somewhere in those rolls of chub.

Wyatt had a great time chasing all the kids, eating hay, driving Mia's tractor, and having his first bites of cake. It does this little mama's heart good knowing that one day he will be able to look at those pictures and know how much we all love him. I am still in awe of the fact that he is ONE! It seems like it will be tomorrow when he is asking to borrow the keys to my flying car so he can take his girlfriend to dinner in France (seriously, it's right around the corner). Until then, I will just be loving my moments where I hug him and squeeze him and know that he is my baby boy...forever and always.

Below are a few of my favorite photos from the infamous event...
(I finally found out how to add pictures to a post! Up next: World Peace.)


The Invite

Our little Rascal

See?!! I told you!

Ma and Pa

The cake...mmmmm.

I'm one! Yipee!

No one comes between him and his Wranglers...

All in a day's work!

We Three.

It's My (his) Party, and I'll Cry if I Want To

Almost immediately after the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve, it hit me: my son will be turning ONE YEAR OLD in about a month...a month and three days to be exact.

First of all, what happened to the year 2008?? Where did it go? Is it forever lost like my ability to fit in my high school jeans? This last year truly did fly by...I have no idea how, but it seems I gave birth to an 11 month old. Looking at pictures of Wyatt when he was teeny tiny makes me feel like it was a million years ago and yesterday all at the same time. Ahhhhh, insert motherly sigh here.

Secondly, how do I go about throwing a birthday party for a one year old?? I wouldn't even know where to begin. A low key gathering of some family and good friends here at the house, you say? Sure, sounds good and would be the most appealing to me and my desire to not make my life any crazier (not to mention *eh hem* on the verge of finding out if we got the biggest gig of TasteBuds' life)- but once half my family and friends showed, this roomy-enough-for-three condo would feel like a sardine can faster than you can say "claustrophobia". Add to that the fact that we live in L.A. and backyards are hard to come by, I knew I would have to be outsourcing on this one. I racked my brain...park? Hmmmm, maybe, but in February the weather would be questionable and the thought of having to figure out what to do with about 20 soaking wet guests that just drove an hour to watch my son eat cake gave me the hives. Renting a playroom? It seemed a little much for a one year old. Maybe in a couple years when I want nothing to do with planning for a 3 year old's party except show up and watch the kids (and my husband) go nuts in the ball pit....

We were trying to figure out what we would do when we were hit with another dilemma...what about Mike's family in Fresno? They all wanted to see Wyatt turn the big uno also! Grandma Debbie would have no part in not being able to celebrate her grandson's 1st Birthday! After all, birthdays are what she does best. Mike and his brother and sister were the kids you always hated because their birthday parties were HUGE and themed and fun and sooooo put your party at Shakey's to shame. So that was it. We had solved it. We were going out Paris Hilton style and having two parties! It's kind of a case of City Mouse and Country Mouse - a BIG, HUGE, cowboy inspired shin dig in the country and a smaller, more lazy (on my behalf) get together at the L.A. Zoo with all of Wyatt's buddies, young and old. Phew!

So, that's it! I'm relieved. The big party in K-Town takes some of the heat off my catering/event planning brain that says every party must be detailed and fabulous right down to the gingham covered bales of hay for the guests to sit on, and the L.A. party makes my little heart happy to think of Wy and all his little buddies getting to breathe in the smell of elephant poop and popcorn. This kid is officially hooked up on the party end...P-Diddy, eat your heart out.

In the Beginning...

I've never been one for New Year's Resolutions, but I also never thought I'd be one to have multiple daily conversations about poop or have to fish dog food out of my son's mouth...


It seems fitting then that this year, the year my son turns one, would be the year to finally stick to a resolution. Be better at keeping in touch (somewhere, my mother is fainting). After months and months (11 to be exact) of having family constantly remind me of how horrible I am at sending pictures and updates on our sweet boy, Wyatt, I have decided to start a blog. I could post pictures somewhere, but as the saying goes, "A picture is worth a thousand words"... and I just so happen to have a thousand words for every picture of my adorable, smart, happy, chubby, lovable, drooly, giggly, teething, exploring, (you get the point) boy. So, that won't do. Then I could just send out emails. Well, how one dimensional of me. Wouldn't you rather see Wyatt take his first bite of solid food than have me painstakingly describe every moment (cute as it may be)? Someone suggested myspace. The thought of my Great Aunt So and So in New Mexico creating a myspace account amongst the throngs of Miley Syrus fans and high school friends reunited makes me giggle inside. Yes, a blog is the answer. Pictures of the latest and greatest? Check! Being up to date on our little family that you don't get to see as often as you'd like (unless you are one of my business partners)? Check!


Here we go! Embarking on the adventure that is the blog. Fancy Entrepreneurs have blogs, Movie Critics have blogs, Foodies have blogs, Avid Gardeners have blogs...and now a young, new mom who is a partner in a successful (I meant stressful) catering company with an 11 month old son, crazy puppy, overworked husband, money-pit condo, and dying houseplant to take care of...
has a blog.


So, here is your invitation. Join us on the journey of a lifetime...well, of our lifetime. See Wyatt's first steps, hear his first words (we already have $5 on "No, Stella!"), cry with us, laugh with us.


Because you love us. And we, love you.



***Now, I'm still new at this so I haven't figured out a way to post pictures or link you to pictures, but I'll get the hang of it sooner or later. I just know that if I didn't get this ball rolling, it would deflate faster than my ego after childbirth - and then we'd be right back where we started. Keep checking in, or subscribe to the blog below to get updates of new posts and you'll be able to get your Wyatt fix whenever you need one.***