guarros gone wild

Put to the Test

2012-02-02T22:44:00.000-05:00

We are looking for a new car. You know what isn't fun? Looking for a new car. It's needed though, maybe you don't know. I am driving a completely inappropriate car for a mom of two. Let's be honest here; it was likely inappropriate for me to be driving it when I was a mom of one. While I love my Volkswagen Carbio it's time to get serious.

I've said from the beginning: I don't care about the color or make. All I wanted was a third row and low car payments. We rounded out the decisions between a few vehicles and ended up going with a Toyota Highlander. It's glorious, but the road to the glory was interesting.

Long story short, we were going for the lowest monthly payment. My husband & 4 year old did a first round. One afternoon they went out, talked with people, got quotes and test drove vehicles. It wouldn't be a surprise, if you know the kid - she loved the process. Candy at every turn, fancy new rides, riding in a booster seat? You could have told her she was at Disney and she would have believed you. What did I like? They came home with a car payment under what we wanted to pay. I mean, other than free.

Fast forward a few weeks later when we are ready to sign on the dotted line, it turns out the deal he researched was the basic model. It comes with a steering wheel and four wheels and it turns out they don't actually make that car much.

Ah marketing ploy how I hate thee.

Just as we are about to walk out, they do a search. And they found one. One vehicle that would give us the lowest car payment. Oh, but don't forget about the taxes so it really isn't as inexpensive as you think it's going to be.

Ah marketing ploy how I hate thee.

"But before we move forward let's take a look at the color..."

He proceeds to talk about the color, calling it maroon. I ask if it's red. He makes a face and says, "Ummm. Let's go take a look at another car in the same color."

We go out to the car lot and start walking toward a car that can only be described as purple. He tries to tell me in some lights you wouldn't be able to tell, to which my only response can be, "Sure, in the dark." As he continues to try to sell me on the Barney mobile I try to explain that he might as well be showing me an orange car. He tries to tell me it's more of a 'wine' color to which I respond, "Sure, purple wine." There is a back and forth. I make clever wise cracks, he doesn't get me. Rinse & repeat.

At the end of the day, it went a little like this: "I did say that I didn't care about the color. This is putting me to the test. You can say whatever you like about this car, in which light it would look like what. The bottom line is I will always know, in my heart of hearts, that I am driving a purple car."

Not only was it a purple, as if that wasn't bad enough, it had cream white interior. You would think they would be paying ME to drive that bad boy. You'd think wrong.

I was put to the test. Guess what the score was?

We didn't get the purple powered truck.

Coughing Up Flame

2012-01-27T13:00:00.000-05:00

L is getting her first ear infection. I should consider us lucky. It's her first one in all four years of her little life. I have a hard time seeing that silver lining when she's hogging the blankets in bed and spending the wee hours of the morning coughing on me or (bad breath) breathing on me until I finally give up and get out of bed at 5:30 am. That said, even tired and fearing what germs are making a home in me - she is hilarious.

In preparation for our doctor's office I started asking questions. What hurts? ETC.

Me: "When you cough does anything come up?"

L: "Yup. The flame. I have it."

Me: {thinking} "OH you mean phlegm."
L: "Yup. Flame. In my thought mouth."

Just when I thought it couldn't get weirder up in here, I have a fire eater. P.s. she meant phlegm. Naturally. And no, she isn't feeling a burning sensation, she just thinks phlegm is flame.

Merry MERRY

2012-01-21T21:45:00.001-05:00

Yeah, don't even get me started how far behind I am. Good news? I'm here now, m'kay? Let's hug it out.

This year we had our second annual, we ain't going NOWHERE Christmas. Of course, this one was different in that we didn't have visitors. This was one was special. Dreamy.* Wonderful* and just what you think when you think "Damn. That was a relaxing holiday." It's also where we learned we have holiday rush PTSD.

Example:
Christmas Eve our plan was to go to the fish market. I know, we are landlocked - what are we DOING going to a fish market. We asked the kid: What do you want to eat for Christmas Eve? She answered, "Lobster." Look, my kid has champagne taste, we indulge. It's the holidays. I digress; we had to go to the fish market and the Hill. The Hill is an Italian section of the STL and we heard full of delicious. We figured if we couldn't have Arthur Avenue food, we'd have the Hill for Christmas dinner. That morning as we were getting on our way the husband & I started to feverishly rushing around. We had to go. We had to go fast. We were running late. We wanted to get on our way earlier. Go GO GO!

Wait. WHY are we late? Where did we have to go? What is the rush? We had ZERO plans other than the two stops we had to make.

We seriously had to check ourselves.

You know what that is? PTSD. Loud & clear. Look at those faces? HOW can we be stressed with those FACES?
So we chilled out and had a lovely day. Fast forward through (surprisingly) delicious lobsters and we let L stay up late and bake cookies for Santa. Her entire body was filled with Christmas magic. It was palpable and completely indescribable until it happens to you. Last year was great, she got it - it was fun. But this year? This year you could see it in her eyes Christmas freaking spirit. And when I tucked her in to sleep, I cried. Big baby that I am - I just couldn't wait for my baby to experience what was to come.

Christmas morning, went a little like this. All of it? Pure magic.

Present opening - between "Santa" (aka great deals), family, and friends it took close to 2 hours for my methodical kid to open her presents (and her baby sister's). While it may look like she got a lot of stuff - Santa wasn't only thrifty - he was practical.
L got to eat candy before breakfast and have Christmas cookies for breakfast (she is still talking about this amazing Christmas magic). She asked nicely. I said sure. She looked at me in disbelief.
We sat around a fire. We drank coffee, had breakfast (for those of us skipping on the cookies). We watched a movie - we stayed in our PJs. We had antipasti for lunch and then. We took a nap. All of us. CHRISTMAS.MAGIC.

Finally we got up, got ready (jeans, baby) and sat down to a lovely Christmas dinner.

LOVELY.

* I would be remiss if I didn't mention while the holiday was dreamy it was also something of the best of the situation we were in. Of course, if given the opportunity to see family at our house and share the magic with family or friends we would have gladly shared the magic.

Sleep Tight

2012-01-20T22:55:00.001-05:00

Truth: I hear "only you" often. This story should be filed under "only me."

Monday night I put my babies to bed and spend my evening waiting for JJ to wake up. She always wakes up at 11, so why go to sleep before that? 11 came, and went. Midnight. See ya. And just when I said to myself, "Self - forget it. You can't wait up for her to get up. Go.To.Bed." I got a text.

A Tornado Watch has been issued for St. Louis
county until 1/17/2012 7:00:00 AM. KSDK.com

I signed up for alerts. Great idea. Oh yeah. Sleep tight, nighty night.

Did I mention the husband was gone? The one who wakes up when a twig breaks three yards over? He wasn't home. Me? The tornado alarm could be going off and I would sleep through it.

Oh wait. That's (not) funny because it's true.

I proceeded to wake up every hour on the hour - just about. At one point L started crying, I ran to the room thinking it must be the storm that is scaring her. Nope. She was twisted in her blankets. (You can thank the bad puns on not getting any sleep.)

She fell asleep quickly, but soon after I was up again because of the sounds coming from outside. If I didn't get up to see it for myself, I wouldn't have believed what was happening outside. It was hail, but it sounded like full fledged vehicles were slamming up against the windows.

Guess what?

No one woke. Not ONE peep.

The next morning, JJ awoke refreshed and ready to attack the day. 11 hours that little B slept. 11.HOURS. For the first time in her 5 months of existence PW (post womb). Me? I was a hot mess of exhaustion but the kids? They were well freaking rested.

Only.Me.

Wordless Wednesday

2012-01-18T09:00:00.000-05:00

Pin It Girrrl

2012-01-14T18:50:00.002-05:00

I have a problem.

Source: housetohome.co.uk via guarros on Pinterest

If I see it, I wanna pin it. My problem is I see something and I take it too far. I just can't help it. Take for example this cute little ditty.

I mean how perfect?

Jars which are recycled - good for the environment AND the wallet?!
Organization is the key to happiness.
Cute. How. CUTE.
Different. Don't get me wrong. I'm not ashamed of the fact that 85% of our house could be a show room in Target or Ikea - but it's nice to have something different that you won't see at the store.

Here's the rub:

I don't know when to say "when." Our kitchen was being taken over by jars. Jars, jars, jars.

Jars that were ready to put stuff in, but no stuff to put IN them.
Jars that needed to be scrubbed - because labels are a biotch.
And somewhere in-between, but still IN our tiny kitchen. Jars, jars everywhere. I completed the original project in October - and yet it is just recently I pulled the plug on the circuit of jar stations in the kitchen. My husband likes me more now, I'm convinced.

True story, the other day this conversation happened, while we were in the kitchen. L comes running in...

Me: "L, what's the rule?"

L: "No running in the kitchen!"

Me: "So then, don't run."

Ball & chain: "L, you better watch out. Mom's going to put you in a jar if you aren't careful."
I'm working on it. But this is just one example. I saw another pin once upon a time; how perfect!

Source: foundpaperco.blogspot.com via guarros on Pinterest

Do you know how many boxes I have of memories I want to find a way to preserve in a better way?

Source: allendesigns.typepad.com
via guarros on Pinter

Don't worry, I have my inner hoarder in check. I have ONE box like this of recent years... but still. Do you know how many holiday cards, birth announcements, wedding invitations, maps, tickets and postcards ONE box can hold? I can tell you this: after seeing the same idea with holiday cards, it clicked. I got to work and now my couch has three piles of holiday cards: 2009 - 2011 neatly stacked and only one ready to flip through. HOW PERFECT. Can't you just see it? Every year, unpacking our holiday garb to find little booklets of holiday cards from days of yore? Can't you just see it? SO EXCITING. Yeah, the husband wasn't as excited as me, either. You know how IS as excited as me? The kid. She totally gets me.

"Mama, this is SO cute of you." - best kid ever.

My husband on the other hand, doesn't think it's so cute. He mockingly mumbles "pin it girrrrl" more than he says "hello" nowadays while I continue to take things to far. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

It may be late, but it is for always.

2012-01-11T22:43:00.000-05:00

Dear JJ,

I owe you a letter. When I started writing this letter you were 3 months old, propped up on my shoulder. Snoozing - as you do. I would hold you all day, if I could. You are always quick to get comfy with me and you're still at the itty bitty size I can hold you on one side while typing. I need to tell you a few things. As we rounded out month 4, there were things you need to know. 2 months later it turns out all these things hold true.

You are stinkin cute.
Your smile? It makes ovaries weep. Adorable doesn't explain it.
When you aren't a doll? Seriously - dang girl. You may or may not have anger management issues. You get SO MAD. In a split second you are happy and the next you are screeching and crying. Did someone say mood swings? I don't know where you get it.
Oh how you are loved by your big sister. Your big sister loves talking with you, holding you, kissing you, dancing with you - and when you master a new trick I am fairly sure she is more excited than anyone. Her love is (almost) unmatched.
You love her more than any of us. She lights up your face and with her you can be calmed.
Despite my inability to write about you enough or keep up with your month pictures you are loved like no ones business.

We love you kid.

Love you much. Love you always,
Mama & Daddy

Ending 2011 with the WORST Idea Ever

2012-01-02T23:59:00.000-05:00

Alternative title: "This one time, when I begged for Tonya Harding to put me out of my misery..."

New Years Eve I thought I planned the cutest day, ever. We picked up lunch at a local sandwich shop which ROCKS the house. Fresh ingredients, delicious combinations: Fozzie's Sandwich Emporium, you complete me. It was a gorgeous day so we thought we would go to the park and have a little bit of a picnic before we headed to an outside ice skating rink. Can you handle the cuteness?

Then we accidentally sat in a wind tunnel.

After we scarfed down our delicious sandwiches (mostly because we needed to keep them from flying away) and chased freshly cut and made potato chips - it was off to go ice skating.

Nothing wrong with going skating with a 4 year old and an infant. No red flags there. No red flags thrown considering the ball & chain and I are what you would call allergic to athletics. Neither of us are graceful. Neither of us really know how to skate. So yeah, let's go do this thing, nothing is going to go wrong.

For the record? L LOVED "skating." That said, I'm not entirely sure she ever actually SKATED. She got on that ice quick and held on to the side, as I would. The thing is, whenever she let go of the side, she would start to flail like a flapper dancer and wipe-out, hard. NEVER crying. The alternative to this fish flailing on a line was a fun routine of her grabbing a hold of me. Keep in mind, I'm not a skilled at anything athletic so I was barely standing upright as it was. At one point she almost managed to pull my holiday-too tight jeans down. That's a serious grasp. She insisted on letting go of the wall every time she got her balance. She refused to accept any help from me or anyone on the sidelines trying to give her with some instruction on how to stay upright. Stubborn does not begin to describe the scene. By minute 30, at which point we weren't yet way around the little rink, I started to hope that she WOULD fall hard enough to cry. Not hard enough to hurt herself (seriously), but enough that they would let us OUT of the little ring of hell. Once you got going, the only way "out" was to go around. So yes, I may have welcomed a little bit of a scene.

At one point, I could be heard saying, "We are never going to make it around alive."

Spoiler alert: We did (barely).

She loved it and when we (finally) got around, it was my lovely (sitting the whole time) husband's turn to go with her. He was with JJ who was blissfully asleep. The plan was to switch out. To put it lightly: He owes me.

L was sopping wet from all of her spills and I was fairly sure her legs were purple from all of her "skating." I was afraid if they went - JJ & I would have to sacrifice them and leave without them, eventually. Plus, seriously, I needed to save my husband. He says he would have been fine but I seriously doubt it. The role of mean mommy was played by yours truly and I said it was time to go. Of course THAT'S when she started to cry. To say this was my worst idea of 2011 is to put it lightly.

But OH how she LOVED it. Skating lessons will need to commence, but this girl? Me? I will NOT be skating anytime ~~soon~~ ever.

Santa Babies

2011-12-29T21:59:00.000-05:00

Oh how the me of yore would kick my ass.

To be honest, I rolled my eyes at myself when I considered even BUYING these matching outfits. But I did.

I scoffed when I thought to put them in those matching outfits for our Santa picture this year. But I did.

I judge me, but you can't deny these girls are too.freaking.cute.

What a difference a year makes, indeed.

Beyond the completely NEW little person on Santa's lap - we've been able to go from this:

2010 L meets Santa (again)

to this:

2011 L giggles with Santa

Magical, people. MAGICAL.

A Different Kind of Holiday

2011-12-22T22:32:00.000-05:00

This year the holidays look different. Not wrong, just different. Last year it was our first Christmas hosting. It was our first Christmas home; Santa finally came to our house and it was wonderful. For years, we wanted to stay home for Christmas. Even before kids, we wanted Santa to come to our house instead of trekking all over for the holidays. This year, is our second year at home - though our home is much further than it was last year.

At first it was a bit heartbreaking to explain that MyUncleChris was not going to be sleeping over on Christmas - even though she thinks he always does. I guess that's the thing when you are 4, if the only Christmas you really remember is your 3rd - of course everything that you remember is what you always do. Now, she understands we won't have the same house full of people or that we won't have anyone coming over like we did last year. It wasn't like we had our entire extended family over, but with two out of three sets of grandparents and one out of three uncles or aunts - those numbers plus a super small apartment? This meant a full house. This year it's the four of us.

It's a special holiday because it's JJ's first Christmas and L's first as a big sister. Someone to share it all with. Sure, JJ is 4 months old - but the way L walks her through what is about to happen? It's magical. The way her 4 year-old hyped up self can slow down, even if for a moment, to tell her baby sister to expect wonderful. It's Christmas-errific. Santa is coming over with a vengeance (damn you incredibly reasonable deals & adorable child) and for the last few weeks we've been receiving packages from friends & family. We are planning a trip "home" after the holidays (no dates have been decided, family) and I'm sure there will be more holiday merriment to be had. It's not that she won't have a wonderful Christmas. In fact, I believe this will be one of the best - each one is better because she understands it more and can get excited and into it. But it's different, even if she doesn't realize how much.

To make this year special, seeing as she wasn't going to be seeing everyone, she's been involved in the gift giving process. While it would have been 1000% (no typo - I meant to go over - way over- 100%) easier to just do the shopping myself or only shop online and have people wrap their own presents and or spend the wrapping fee (which kills me); since L loves to go shopping we included her in every present. She loved it. If there was a choice - she picked it out. If we were given a store to shop in, she did the selecting. She helped to wrap every present and ch0ose every ribbon (which will promptly get smashed en route). She even decorated some of the boxes we shipped things in and carefully chose which pictures to send. If she could have addressed the boxes, she would have.

I love this kid. And I can't wait to see what's to come. Wrapping, ribboning & decorating the box made her ridiculously happy. When her wildest imagination of toys, clothes & accessories explodes in her living room? She may combust. And to help her sister unwrap a few goodies of her own? I just don't know my heart will be able to handle the joy.

Slimed

2011-12-21T09:00:00.000-05:00

For a moment this was going to be a Wordless Wednesday, but then I realized even though this will be posted on a Wednesday there was no way I could be wordless about this one. I present you with an outtake from our holiday card photo shoot. I'm pretty much obsessed.

JJ is not a fan of the whole family "photo shoot" - she's more of a on the fly smile type of girl. And getting TWO girls to smile at the same time? Mission impossible. She's more likely to spit up. Obviously. L on the other hand isn't as used to being puked on as yours truly. Me? I don't know what I look forward to more. A full night's sleep OR not being puked on. It has come to the point I just wipe it off (barely) and get on with the day. Why change if I know it's just going to happen again? L on the other hand? HORRIFIED. And now, I have proof. {insert evil laugh}

Scarring Children & Finding My Way

2011-12-18T00:39:00.000-05:00

What you need to know:

I get lost. I get lost anywhere. Everywhere. Any how. I get lost. Some say that I get lost from the bathroom to my bedroom - and those people? They would be right. Sometimes I turn the wrong way.
My kid asks a lot of questions. Like your head explodes a lot of questions.
We are committed to speaking the truth with the kids as much as possible. It isn't always pretty - but we are committed to be real.

The story at hand: on our way home from a play date the other day this happened. Word for (pretty much) word. Out of nowhere.

L: "How did you get the baby out?"
Me: "You mean JJ? Well..." {silently thinking - where is this going, how do I get out of it, what do I do? You need to STALL.}

L: "When you had the baby. When JJ got here. HOW did she get out of your belly? HOW did the baby get out?"
Me: "Well..."{silently thinking - where is this going, how do I get out of it, what do I do?}

L: "You know! How did JJ get OUT of your BELLY?! HOW?"

Me: "Well... {Feeling pressured. Frankly at this point I'm feeling like perhaps the whole parenting principle of that pesky "honest" approach isn't the way to go. I'm thinking child birth would encompass what I SHOULD be truthful about? So off I go...} so, remember when Mama had that booboo? Well {SHIT I'm doing this thing.... nope. I'm not.} I had a surgery and the baby was born!"

{Please let that be good enough. PLEASE.}

L: "What is surgery?"
Me: {F}

L: "Mama, WHAT is SURGERY?"

Me: "Ok, so the doctors gave me medicine and they took the baby out."
L: "How?"

Me: "I don't know, L, they took the baby." {LIE, you are lying to your child.}

L: "Where did they take the baby? How did they get the baby out?"

Me: "I had surgery."
L: "What is surgery?"

Me: "It's when the doctor uses something like a knife to make a cut to get the baby out."
L: "A KNIFE?!"
Me: {crap} "Well, not a real knife - that we use to cut things - but a doctor's special knife for surgery."
L: "Did you feel the knife?"
Me: "No. The doctor's gave me medicine so I didn't feel anything. And L, it's not the same kind of knife that you know."

{Please let that be good enough. PLEASE.}

L: "So the baby was cut out of you?"

Me: {Inner monologue: well, when you put it like that I have sufficiently f'd you up. Honesty, you are a son of a bitch. Silver lining? We're done here.} "Yup."

L: "But how did the baby get there? In your belly? Before the doctor had the surgery in you."

Me: "Um."

{head explodes}

L: "Mama, how did the baby get into your belly?"

Me: "L. Um. I'm lost I need to pay attention to where I'm going, OK?"

I totally punked out. Good news? She's 4 so I'm sure I can find somewhere on this here Internet it's too soon. Also? Since I get lost pretty much everyday she is none the wiser that I wasn't actually lost.

Family, you can go ahead and skip this one.

2011-12-13T00:12:00.000-05:00

Remember when I said my husband was 12 years old?

Perhaps I should have waited to hand down that judgement.

Just when I thought Elf on the Shelf couldn't get any more fun? I am proven wrong. Who knew the elf would be so much fun?

Now if I could only remember to move him nightly.

There's a contest that you just HAVE to check out. "Inappropriate Elf Contest" - and it's filled with some seriously F'd up elves that just make me GIGGLE. People come up with some hilarious stuff. When I originally heard about it I thought - I have the PERFECT IDEA. I cracked up over them for awhile. I won't lie. Now, even though I'm sharing them, I know I might be the only one laughing.

Then I started to see the entries roll in and I saw that I had clearly misunderstood the intent. I don't know, I think a little chat with the Peacock, Nutcracker & Alesssandro is hilarious if you see it the way I do.


"Mrs. Claus is such a tease."


Alessandro & his blue bells.

Come on. Let the inner 12 year old in you giggle.

Have you checked out the contest? Go do that. I mean if it were a double entendre or euphemism contest, I'd be in.

Time out: both words sound dirty just to say them. Is it just me? I'll double entendre your euphemism. That's what she said. (See beginning. I'm 12. Also, if we needed to call a TOD (time of death) of my father-in-law "getting me" I believe we can all agree, right about now. I call 'em like I see 'em.)

Time in:
Since it seems when Jill over at Baby Rabies said "Inappropriate Elf" she actually meant inappropriate "ELF" not "Inappropriate Elf Poser" I won't be holding my breath on the win. Hell, I'm a joiner and I just can't help it. I'm a sucker for some captioned photos.

I present you with my slutty Alessandro.

Save a Reindeer. Ride a Santa.

I don't expect to win. Dude, there is a the original creep stalker elf, Elf on the Shelf meets a Silence of the Lambs captivity scene, * in a box and a freaking Dexter elf for God's sake.

Sidenote: Perhaps I was just flat lining before. Right NOW is the TOD of my father-in-law getting me.

I'm just a girl who likes to take pictures of my kid's footless doll. Also, I'm a girl who right now wishes family didn't read this blog because I'm talking blue bells and riding deer. Never mind not 'getting me' - there are more out there that if they didn't think I was strange before? Let's just say - mission accomplished.

Magical Holidays

2011-12-09T23:58:00.001-05:00

Oh my Elf, I am so behind. I started writing this - who knows when. I wanted to interrupt my Elf on the Shelf obsession to bring you good clean family fun. The holiday season was upon us and oh what fun it was. I was all wrapped up in Alessandro, I forgot to breakdown our turkey (Thanksgiving). As I look to edit this post a bit we may or may not still have the tree "up" and all lit up. We usually take the tree down on January 6th but this week has been hell-a busy.

OK, back to the story from way back when. AKA 2 months ago in a time long, long ago called Thanksgiving.

Seeing as we are in the STL - we didn't have to decide where to go (win) and was able to host Thanksgiving (win). Grammy & Poppa made the pilgrimage to the Midwest and in addition to not having to travel (have I mentioned, win?) L + J got to spend time with some of her grandparents.

We went to the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade (yes, they have that in places other than NYC - thank you very much). Sure the one in NYC probably doesn't have a firetruck with the leg lamp from The Christmas Story - but hey. They DID have giant balloon floats. And lots of candy. After the morning at the parade we came home and just hung out. We watched more parades on TV. Glorious. The day was filled with enjoying good food (thanks ball & chain), good company and cold beer. Let me highly recommend hosting Thanksgiving in a low key event?

Alessandro's Treasure

2011-12-05T11:00:00.000-05:00

Our elf has arrived and while I planned to take one picture a day - I have failed horribly. I'll try to do catch up but since you aren't allowed to touch the damn elf otherwise his magic gets taken (it's in the book people, catch up) it's difficult. I will tell you this: you should really play out the story or situation you put your elf in, before presenting.

Recently the husband was in charge of our elf's landing. He chose to place him above a shelf in the kitchen.

Side note: when you adopt an elf you name him or her. Last year, when we adopted our elf, L named him... Alessandro. One of her buddies from school was Alessandro and he will live in Guarro family history as our elf. It's a lovely name (for the little boy)... but is it elf-y? Absolutely not. I should have steered the naming session toward a more elf-friendly name like Scooter, Snowflake, Jack (Frost) or Buddy. You know all the other Shelf Elfs used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Alessandro join in any elf-like games.

Back to the story, Alessandro was up on his shelf, just sitting there. BORING. Listen, I appreciate my husband. He got up after I realized we forgot. At that point we were seconds from slumber town. I appreciate it. The thing is, when I saw Alessandro the next morning, he was just sitting there. No story. Nothing. I felt like I had to do something.

So far, Alessandro has been swinging from the chandelier (as you do), sliding down the stair railing, sitting in a pumpkin patch, in L's room getting into her jewelry box and "make up," working for the weekend, and hanging out with the King of Kings.

elf montage

Alessandro & King of Kings.
Obviously.

Point is? Things were happening. Alessandro was busy. Sitting there on a random shelf? Alone? BOOORRRING.

When the kid wasn't looking I threw some gems we had left over from our Halloween extravaganza on his lap thinking we could spin a "Look! He has treasures!!!"
To be fair - I should have thrown MORE gems. Treasures. Jewels. The TWO I threw up there? Doesn't help my story. I did not think this through.

Me: "Look, L! Alessandro has some treasure!!!"

L: "Lemme see (I lift her up - because the shelf is high - another problem with this spot) - OH he has jewels!"

Ball & chain: "Yup, it's just Alessandro & his family jewels."

Alessandro & his (family) jewels

Later on that day?
L: "Is Alessandro still playing with his family jewels?"

Days later?
L: "Remember when Alessandro had his jewels? His family jewels?"
She also asks if we remember when Alessandro was hanging from the chandler or the stairs - but I'm sure you understand... these memories aren't quite as funny.

I wish I could respond with, "Yup L, we remember. We'll always remember. On a side note, you should know: your father is 12." If I did that I just KNOW she'd just correct me, trying to convince me he is in his 30s.

Smart (ass) kids (and husbands).

Elf on the (what now?)

2011-12-01T19:20:00.000-05:00

Last year we got Elf on the Shelf. It took forever to find one, truth be told - as I may or may not have waited until the last minute. That's how I roll. It was exciting, however late it was.

What is Elf on the Shelf? The elf is adopted by a family (us) and he (or she) look in on the kids of the family and report back to Santa how things are going. Yes, Santa watches if you're naughty or nice - but who helps him? The elves. Directly from Elf on the Shelf:

Excellent listeners and even better observers, these scout elves are the eyes and ears of Santa Claus. Although they cannot be touched, or else they may lose their magic, the elf will always listen and relay messages back to Santa. Taking in all the day-to-day activities around the house, no good deed goes unnoticed; these scout elves take their job seriously.

Each night, after the family goes to bed, the scout elf uses his magical Christmas powers to fly back to the North Pole. Once there, the elf will make his or her daily report to Santa and visit with elf friends where they will tell stories about their beloved families, play with the reindeer, and of course, sneak some of Mrs. Claus’ cookies!

Before the family awakes each morning, their special scout elf will fly back to their home from the North Pole. However, since these elves like to play games, don’t expect to find them in the same spot! While some like to hide in the freezer (probably because it reminds them of the North Pole) and others prefer to sit on the fireplace mantle or hang from the chandelier, these elves love to play hide-and-seek with their families.

This year, homeboy is going to rock the house. Why? You'll never guess. Pinterest.

I KNOW? Are they paying me to talk about them, or what? Your answer will be "what" after I finish this story.

ANY WHO there are all these fantastic ideas on what to do with the Elf on the pinterest. I told the ball & chain about some of my favorites - the Elf turns up doing snow angels in flour, hanging from a chandelier, or playing games with other toys. You'd THINK he'd be down with this. This (seems to be) is right up his alley. As I explained this to him, and reminded him of antics very recently with the trolls... this happened. Verbatim.

"That is so creepy. I mean what's next? A 3 way with Belle & Barbie."

My guy is so dreamy.

Like I said, pretty sure Pinterest is not (pin)terested in MY endorsement. More on our elf's story and the trouble he gets into this year... G rated people. Keep it clean.

wordless wednesday

2011-11-30T09:00:00.000-05:00

Seeing Rudolph at the parade

How many questions does a 4 year old ask each day?

2011-11-27T10:24:00.000-05:00

The average 4 year old has NOTHING on ours.

My kid is above average. Every day I am reminded of that fact. Especially with the questions. OH for the love of the questions. Sometimes she asks so many questions that she confuses herself. Sometimes she knows she has asked too many questions in succession that she raises her hand in hopes that requesting permission to ask another damn question will get that question answered. Sometimes she asks questions just to ask questions; she KNOWS the answer to the question. "What's this?" as she points to her lunch which consists of a sandwich - she knows what it is.

Oh the questions. How it usually goes is any word or statement she doesn't know or even those that she does will lead into a downward spiral of the never ending question game. Example?

Ball&Chain: "Is it bad that the goal of the day is to do nothing?"
L: "Is what bad?"
Ball&Chain: "If the goal of the day is to do nothing."
L: "Why is that bad?"
Me: "That's what' Daddy's asking, is it bad that it's the goal of the day?"
L: "What a goal?"
Ball&Chain: "An achievement." {At this point, he tags out}
L: "What's an achievement."
Me: "It's a goal. {disorientated by the word puzzle we have going at this point}
L: {silently confused, I'm sure she's trying to formulate another question.}
Me: "Something you work for - like your stickers? When you get 20 stickers and then you get a prize? Getting 20 stickers is the goal."
L: "Oh. When can I have another sticker?"
Me: "When you earn it."
L: "What are we doing today??"
Me: "I don't know, other than nothing? Maybe being quiet?"
L: "Sure! Why?"
Me: {bashes head against wall}

What's worse? You be the judge.

2011-11-23T17:07:00.000-05:00

Saturday my dreamy husband gave me the day off. While normally mothers do not get the day off - I got a vacation day. The ball & chain took the girls for the day while I went off to get my Breaking Dawn on.

Maybe you didn't know, but I am a MAJOR fan. Twi-hard. Major, people. And I know how ridiculous it is. I love their love, however ridiculous you find it. I don't care. I have read the books more times than I can count (yes I realize it isn't the best quality of writing, but you are reading this, aren't you?). It is one of hand full of movies (The Goonies, anything John Hughes, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Dirty Dancing, do not count) that I will see more than once. I will buy the DVD with digital download. I will see in the theaters at least three times. It's a sickness. I embrace it.

You think that's a problem? Get a load of the new problem I have on deck.

Saturday morning, as I was getting ready to leave - I told the kid I was "running errands." This, is the truth.

Courtesy of Merriam Webster:

errandsplural of er·rand (Noun)

Noun:

A short journey undertaken in order to deliver or collect something, often on someone else's behalf.
The purpose or object of such a journey.

I was on a journey to tween oblivion. I was going to get my geek on. I was going to swoon. I was likely going to cry. Smile. I was going to collect some good warm & fuzzies and stare off to a dreamy state of mind.

My swooning was interrupted by a little voice....

L: "Mama, where are you going? Errands? Where? Shopping?"

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband: "First she's going to the movies, then shopping."
Me: {Totally silent.}

L: "The mooooovvviiees??!!?!? I WANNA GO!"

Movies to my kid is like a beach vacation. It's Christmas. It's fireworks. A movie AND popcorn? It's EVERYTHING to her. She would do just about anything to go to the movies.

Me: "Well, yes - we'll go to the movies soon, I promise. (We're planning on the Muppets at some point -so this isn't quite a lie.)

She seems to take that.

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband:"It's a movies for adults only. An adult movie."

Great, so the chances of my kid going into school on Monday talking about how her Mama saw an adult movie this weekend. 90-10.

And just when you thought it couldn't get worse?

Hours later - when I get home from bliss (the movie) & food shopping (sure it wasn't the pairing I would have hoped for - but it was HOURS alone and that was lovely):

L: "Mama. How were the vampires? Did they eat blood?"
Me: {blink. blink.}

My well meaning, albeit dumb, husband:"What? She had questions. I wasn't going to lie to her."
Me: {blink. blink.}

Just when I thought "My mama went to an adult movie" was the weirdest thing my kid was going to regurgitate at school?

Monday morning:

Me: "L, what do you want for breakfast?"

L: "Blood."Me: {blink. blink.}

We couldn't just stick with running an errand, could we?

Sometimes being caught with your pants down is a win.

2011-11-18T22:08:00.001-05:00

I wasn't one of those girls that dreamed about how it would happen; the day my betrothed would ask for my hand in marriage. I thought about it, but not the way I hear people describe... "I envisioned this day since I was a little girl." That wasn't me. That said? I certainly didn't think it would go down the way it did. Our story is not romantic. It is not dreamy. It is our story and ours alone. Also, it's to be filed under: it could only happen to us.

Disclaimer: this story is better told in person. I was inspired by Girls Gone Child to share. If you haven't seen her playlist of uber romatico proposals? Go check it out. Need a good cry? See people proclaim their love for each other. Good stuff.

Side note: I am so freaking glad this isn't on video.
Truth: there is a little bit of me that wishes it was.

-------

The set up: Picture it, it was 2005 and I was in the throws of relocating. I was moving from New York to Massachusetts. We were going to live in sin after our long-distance relationship. Finally no more weekends filled with traffic. No more figuring out schedules and stressing over who would go where. Same state. Same city. Same apartment. Glorious.

Before the glory, there had to be some pain. That's where moving me comes in.

The week of the big move we talked about "the plan" - I figured he would take the train from Boston so that one of us could drive my car while the other drove the moving truck. But OH my Lord he kept arguing with me - he wanted to drive down. My argument: what are we going to do with TWO cars, ONE moving truck and TWO people?!?! He didn't want to take the train. I later learned he planned to drive so he could speak to my parents, in person. Apparently he didn't think ahead about the logistics of how many drivers there were vs. vehicles to drive. At the time? It was so freaking annoying. It made no sense.

I won, obviously.

When I picked him up from the train he was weird. So freaking weird. I didn't have time for the weird, I had things to do. In addition to packing up my apartment, I may or may not have had some work to do. I suggested that we go back to my office, if he came with me I knew I'd focus and go faster. Then we could go back to my apartment and finish packing. But OH my Lord he kept arguing with me - he wanted to go back to the apartment first. He wanted to change. My argument: you can change at the office?!?! He kept talking about getting a jump on the packing and he kept pacing. I later learned he was just nervous. At the time? It was so freaking annoying. It made no sense.

I won, obviously.

After just under two hours of him pacing around my office and longer than I intended to, we eventually get back to my apartment. Gotta pack. Gotta go! And he can finally change. Jesus. What a woman!

The scene: My ~~woman~~ boyfriend was changing and I start in by washing some dishes. As soon as I start running the water I realize nature is calling. I gotta pee, but this pot has to soak. I have a stroke of genius. I'll let the water run on the pot and scoot in the bathroom. I go in and sit down, just as the dog nudges the door open. So now I'm peeing with the door open. Even though we are moving in together we weren't quite at the point where we are peeing with the door open. I think to myself, "Self, I should probably get up and shut the door. Well, it'll only be a second and hey we've got to get to this place sooner or later."

The inevitable: Just then, I hear him.

"Hey, J..."

He walks out of my bedroom toward the sink in the kitchen, because don't forget - the water is running. He thinks I'm doing the dishes. Instead I am on the toilet. Peeing.

So, for those of you that aren't paying attention. I'm peeing. I hear him call my name. I look up - in the mirror. In the bathroom, because I'm PEEING. The mirror faces my bedroom door - which is where he is walking out of (freshly changed) wearing a different t-shirt. I see that he doesn't see that I'm at the sink. I see his t-shirt.

J WILL YOU MARRY ME

He hears me at this point.
Me: "Oh.My.GOD. NOOOOO WAY!"

To catch you up, I'm on the toilet. Pants down and my beau comes in - pacing (again) in and out of the bathroom.

Him: "What should I do? WHAT should I DO?"

Now, I'm off the toilet. Pants still down - crouching in the corner screaming "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!!!!"

Laughing so hard- I might have peed my pants if I had pants on or I wasn't JUST peeing.

The End: Eventually I get some pants on (it took longer than I'd like to admit) and come out of the bathroom. I (have to) believe there were some lovely words spoken. Down on one knee he asked if I would be his wife. I said yes to what will be a lifetime of laughs, an amazing family, a partner in life and as a token of what is to come? A story I wouldn't believe except I was there, a beautiful ring and a t-shirt.

3 Months

2011-11-16T10:00:00.000-05:00

No Sew Costumes, NO Problem

2011-11-12T12:04:00.001-05:00

I know kid, I'm as surprised as you that our
costumes were hand made by yours truly.

The Royal Family - Queen, King,
Pascal & Rapunzel

Have you seen those posts where people show you how to make things? Creating, DIYing as the kids say, crafting their talented arses off? This is not one of those posts. This is me documenting how I cheated the system and won.

One of my friends (you know who you are) may or may not have thought the idea of me making the costumes this year was a terrible idea. To quote her... "I feel like you are going to have to use a lot of duct tape to hold them together."

Usually she's right - this time? SO.FREAKING.WRONG. To be fair? There are only so many things I will be able to make that do not require sewing. I would LOVE to sew, to learn to sew - but I'm just not there yet. Someday, one day - I'll get there. But until then? I'm going to scour the world looking for no sew projects. This Halloween? I was able to throw together a Rapunzel costume and complimenting (low key) King & Queen costumes without a stitch.

The Cuties of Halloween Past

Don't get me wrong. L's first, second and third year costumes were all store bought and couldn't be cuter. But there is something about a homemade costume. And while I was scared, I was also (pin)spired to do it on my own. Last year I bought a homemade costume for L. This year I wanted to give it a go. I am compelled to share what I did because it turns out it really wasn't hard, time consuming or expensive. I saved a ton o money and frankly I am pretty damn proud of how Rapunzel came out. Side note, knowing what I know now about tutus? Big time buyers remorse - from last year's purchase of a tutu. If you have a need for a tutu? Make it. SO.FREAKING.EASY. (Sorry, Etsy stores selling tutus at a premium - it's true.)

Here's how I did it:

The skirt = tutu like amazing.

I found directions on how to make a tutu (seriously easiest thing EVER) and I also found how to cut tulle the easiest way. I used the directions, but increased the length of the tulle to make the dress "floor" length. Note to self: if you are making a long tutu? Be OK with the fact that the skirt WILL be a magnet for all things... we found candy, crowns, leaves, dirt, flowers all up in her skirt.

The first picture below brings you to instructions on how to make a tutu - it is impossible to mess this up. The second is how to cut the tulle for the dummy proof tutu. It takes a minute to smooth out the tulle and wrap it around, but again pretty much impossible to mess up. For this kid's SUPER full 'floor length' tulle tutu I used 6 rolls of tulle clocking in at 2 bucks a roll. I totally could (and probably should have) used 4 rolls. The whole project probably took me 20 minutes from start to finish? Maybe 30 minutes.

Source: makeit-loveit.com via guarros on Pinterest

Source: treasuresfortots.blogspot.com via guarros on Pinterest

The shirt? All my brain child, baby.

Or I just didn't see it on the Pinterest.... I'm sure it's there somewhere. Everything amazing is. But I have no where to link to because I claim to have thought of this myself. I don't sew but I needed ribbon crisscrossing on a shirt... what's a girl to do?

Hem tape.

Timeout - the first time I was inspired by hem tape was when I couldn't find curtains for our kitchen that I liked. It's a long story but our kitchen is TOTALLY hodgepodge and it works for us, in this space. It's NOT our dream kitchen (by any means) but we love it for now and we spend good quality time in there. Anyway, I wanted curtains somewhat cafe length and different patterns. I couldn't find what I was looking for (at a reasonable price) and the length of the window is SUPER long. I took it on myself and made the ones I wanted. How?

Hem tape.

I purchased a bunch O dishtowels on the cheap and worked the hem tape magic.

The process of making curtains.

Finished product of curtains.

Time in: back to the costume at hand... Rapunzel. I took regular run of the mill pink ribbon and underneath the ribbon I used hem tape (cut to size) to a purple long sleeve. Since the ribbon was thin, I put cloth between the iron and the ribbon - and boom. Easy. Peasy. The ONLY thing I will say - take your time. Once the hem takes take hold... it takes hold. I could have used fabric glue too, I'm sure. I didn't think of that until after the fact - when I was making the King's cape (you'll see).

Accessories: pots, crowns & flowers - oh my!
The pot is a pot she had in her play kitchen - it was silver - but I covered it in chalk board paint. It could have been black spray paint. I made a magnetic chalk board for L's play area recently so it was laying around. Also - I'm obsessed with chalk board surfaces (notice the bread box above that is now covered in it in the kitchen shot) so it was only a matter of time I incorporated chalk board into her costume. She used the pot to trick-or-treat and we carried a bag she could dump into. A few times, anyway.

Her crown? She had - one of many. Funny enough though - she ended up using the crown I had made for myself for trick-or-treating - she liked it better.

I had thought... for a minute, I would complete this tutorial that I found - to make her a wig. I didn't realize until I sat down to do it that I did need to sew a bit. How could I keep on with the No Sew theme with that? That said - if you really want to kick this costume up a notch I say wig it out. In lieu of the wig we put a braid in her hair and stuck in some artificial flowers in. I never thought I'd buy fake flowers... nor did I ever think I would love them as much as I love these.

On to the King & Queen.

The King - we could have taken it up a notch, but we wanted to keep it simple. He wore jeans & a sweatshirt. To make (him feel) more regal?

A cape & crown.

How did I make the cape? You can see the tutorial below, but basically glue, fabric & gold trim. I think the total damage was $5 for fabric, $6 for the two rolls of gold trim. Good news? The fabric I used for our background of the monthly pictures I've been taking. More on that, another day - also inspired by Young House Love and what they did for their baby girl. I didn't find it on Pinterest, but it's all over there as well because well - obviously.

The Cape's day job: photo background


An outtake to prove - it's the cape alright.

Sure, the tutorial is for kids and a bit more formal than we took it - but there are other ideas to take it beyond the King of Jeans & Sweatshirts.

Source: marthastewart.com via guarros on Pinterest

The crown was more stressful than it needed to be. I actually really panicked. I couldn't find a King crown anywhere. I almost just went with form or stock card board and then - I thought... wait a tick. Spray paint can make ANYTHING better. See if this were a real deal how to blog - I'd have the before and after... I don't. So instead I found online pics of the crowns (kind of) that I bought at Michael's. I took off the faux fur that was on the Princess tiara turn the King's crown and spray painted that bad boy gold-ish. I added some gem stones that I've been wanting to buy anyway. My comb crown came in a pack of 10 and was $2 (I know. Dealio.) The Princess tiara turn the King's crown was another $2. The gems were probably the most expensive thing in all of the costume make up - but only because I bought the "value" bag, because I can't pass up a value- with a coupon it was $10. It turns out? I didn't need the value bag - there are a LOT of fake gems in a value bag. Oh well, we'll work it out later.

My outfit, it turned out I had - I used a shirt I had under a dress I had - I was really going for the Rapunzel "after" the haircut look - but L wasn't thrilled with us BOTH being Rapunzel she didn't get the overlap. Geesh.

JJ was a makeshift Pascal - wearing a Lizard costume I found at Target. I was going to jazz it up with a better hat and fashion a tail somehow - but with the crown scramble of 2011 time got in the way. Homegirl kinda got the raw end on the stick - but look at this face cute in whatever we put her in.

That's it folks. It's possible to make things, even if you are totally incapable like yours truly. Fact.

Clear Thinking

2011-11-08T00:55:00.000-05:00

A girls day out at the zoo - don't let the photo fool you -
JJ WAS having a really good time before I broke for a photo op.

The end is near. No, I'm not talking about The Rapture. As I write this, the countdown is ON. 1 (very short) week from yesterday is the last night of my maternity leave. Depending on timezones, one might say even less by the time I press publish.

First, let's get the disclaimers out of the way:

We are a blessed family in all kinds of ways - including having two happily working parents. We love our jobs, the companies we work for, the things we do and who we work with.
I'm happy to be able to have a job to go back to.
My maternity leave + vacation time brought us most of the way through the 4 months I am able to take advantage of. The remainder, while unpaid, we made it work. Planning ahead as best we could and changing our plans made it work. Missing a visit home, that sucked. Not falling down the Target hole of spending, yeah that was easy (enough). That said, I have a sneaking suspicion after the holidays? Target is going to get hit hard by yours truly. Bam.

Are we clear? Good.

I am excited to go back to work, to get started on some projects that I know are going to be on my plate and the possibility of the projects in the future. My job is something I have been trying to work on for years. I'm lucky. And if I may be so bold, more than luck? I worked hard. I work hard.

Are we clear? Good.

Let me also make it clear the last few months have been special. Beyond special. With L, the experience was tainted. For a month, we went through the hardest in our life (thus far, and if I may be so bold - I'm all set with levels of hard times). When we got home things moved so quickly - family and friends came and went, our au pair arrived sooner than it turned out we needed help and the next thing I knew the adult to baby ratio was 3:1 and life was different. It was important to me this time that things were different than the first time around. The last few weeks it's just been me & my girls. Of course we had the family come and go and some serious help for the first few weeks but this time was different. Success. For the last few weeks it's been me & my girls. Some days were more tiring than others and without my baby daddy I may have gone mental.... but when I look back at our blessings - the last few weeks shine. Even though as I type this I'm fairly certain I have some dried puke on my shoulder. It's been a refocusing time - spotlighting what really matters.

Next week, I'm back to work but I'll do all it takes to stay focused so that when it's time to shut down I can do so. And make sure I still get to spend times with my family, because they are what is important. And while I won't be with my girls during the day - like I can be now - I'll be able to focus on them with a different kind of energy.

Are we clear? Good.

Disclaimer: I reserve the right to review this here post when or if things get foggy. No one is perfect, least of all me.

And then I said to myself, "Self - if history repeats itself - you are doomed."

2011-11-02T11:00:00.000-04:00

I have this memory of a girl scout trip, when I was younger. I'm going to guess 4th grade. I could call my mom on this one and get the details, but I'll tell you what I've pieced together. {Warning: this story is likely going to zig zag. But if you stay with me (read it slowly and not scoff at the possibility you may need to re-read) and follow me - it's going somewhere.}

Anyway, I was young - a little kid. We were going out on boats - it might have been a school trip maybe not girl scouts? There were canoes. I was friends with sisters, they were twins (well they still are- that's how that works) and I wanted to sit next them or be in their boat (if you can't tell it's a little foggy). Innocently enough, the boat was full or perhaps they were like, "Hell no we won't sit next to you." Either way, my feelings were horribly hurt and I'm fairly certain I cried about it. Like wailed and freaked out about it. I was always a pretty sensitive kid. This story is just one freak out moment I had (of many). Things upset me. Big or small - it was always a lot to me.

As the stories (still) go, I'd often find myself running to the bathroom at my grandparent's house, locking myself in the bathroom - you guessed it, crying. "She's so sensitive." they would say. Yeah, I'm sure it had nothing to do with the tension you could cut with a rusty knife, parents that clearly no longer liked each other or a grandmother that gave body issues & self esteem neurosis out instead of kisses.

Yeah, so I guess I'm sensitive and a wee bit sharp on the defensive.

The point is this: I felt things deeply and some might say out of proportion with the reality of the situation.

I remember having friends, but I also remember in middle school trying WAY too hard. I remember being nervous (as I am now) when trying to make friends, or being awkward in social settings. I never liked to feel left out, but often did. I may not remember specific details, but I remember feeling sad beyond sad and gutted. All of these memories; why am I reliving them now?

L has started being more sensitive. I see her putting important stock in the friendships she makes and how relationships go. I see how much she feels and how deeply she feels those feelings. She is sensitive to how we say things, what words mean and how they make her feel. I see myself.*

I barely survived adolescence - now I have to go through it again with not one but two daughters.

Somewhere in-between middle school and high school things started to shift. Though it's around this time hormones kicked in so my sensitive woes turned into sharp tongued attitude. I also remember my mom spouting something, I suspect I will (beyond my control) repeat: "I hope you have a daughter just like you - that gives you just the same crap you give me." Consider the curse underway, Mom. While things got (slightly) better, it wasn't until college that things leveled off for me. In college I think I eventually found my way. As young adults do, they begin to find some sense of prospective. If history repeats itself? She isn't going to be off to find her way for another 15 years.*

I remain a sensitive person, but depending on the setting I (would like to think I) have better control over it. In some sick twist of the universe (or curse, thanks again, Mom) ever since I had L I cry like the "good ol'days" at a drop of a hat. At first it was the go to statement to say, "baby hormones." But years later? It isn't that, anymore. Now, when do I get hit the hardest? When my baby girl hurts. It's like that sad beyond sad and gutted feeling magnified beyond comprehension. She's (only) 4 people. I do not honestly know if I will make this.*

*Read: I'm screwed.

wordless wednesday

2011-10-26T13:50:00.000-04:00

Girl's night out - her own sense of style

Need your baby to sleep? Put them in a dirty bag.

2011-10-25T00:04:00.001-04:00

Pre-sleep smiles

September 27th: We put JJ to sleep as we normally did. Some cuddles, I nursed her, topped her off with a little formula and a cozy PJ. Just a normal bedtime routine, though the PJs were a new addition.

Another hand me down from her big sister - maybe that's why L's sleep good juju took over. That night, JJ slept 7 hours. SEVEN STRAIGHT HOURS. Glorious. Do you know what 7 hours feels like after months of not have 3-4 hours of sleep? It's amazing. I was a new woman.

September 28th: Listen, if it isn't broke don't fix it. We Groundhog's Day that baby. Same routine. Same amount of formula. Same PJs. What? She didn't run a marathon? She didn't leak through her diaper- why not just throw on the sleep sack again? That night, she slept 6 straight hours.

September 29th: See September 28th.

(rinse & repeat)

October 8th: It's been over a week and it's been working. JJ is sleeping anywhere from 6-7 hours straight at night and it's glorious. Not so glorious? The PJs. There remained unwashed. Listen - would you tell a winning football player to wash his jersey before the series play offs? (I know, different sports - I did that for effect.) The ball & chain had a harder time putting her in the crusty PJs night after night. Me? Not so much. Of course, I would have washed it if she had an accident in them - but beyond that? What's a little drool, spit up and wear between friends? When the top started to get cardboard stiff - he started talking about washing our lucky PJ. I put it off for as long as possible. Finally, reason (and the husband) won - and we put her in a 'similar' pair of PJs. The warmest ones we had because we are convinced it's the fact that she is toasty and warm that lets her sleep.

A substitution that work

October 9th: I'm pissed. I was up all damn night with the kid - every 2-3 hours. It isn't being warm. It's the magic of the sleep bag. It's warm, like a blanket but there needs to be more. Maybe but the fact that it's a bag bottom - she has the freedom to kick around. I don't know if it's the 8 day old drool on the damn thing that lets her sleep - but what I do know is we need another sleep bag because we need her to wear these PJs everyday.

We spent our day driving around looking for a complimenting PJ. Keeping in mind the original is circa 4 years ago it wasn't easy. We found a Babies R Us and Target that carried the sleep bag - but at two different levels of thickness. We kept the thicker one and now have her wearing that one or the original.

True story: the more worn (some might say dirtier) the PJ is, the sounder she sleeps.

True story: If it were up to me, we'd wash the sleep twins less.

Inspired to Do, Make & Create

2011-10-19T01:15:00.001-04:00

Listen up: I'm not a crafty person. I can't draw a straight line with the assistance of a ruler. I am not kidding. I've been feeling especially inspired with the help of Pinterest.

(Time out: Family - if you come here for the pictures, quotes, videos and sit through my snark? This is not for you. I'm about to geek out - come back tomorrow or the next day - I'll post a picture or something.)

What in the world is Pinterest?

You know when you find something online and you're like, "OOH... (and the next statement is something to the effect of any of the following) I want to save this somewhere. I want to do this. I want to buy something like this. This is good to know. What a great idea. That's fun. That's funny. I love this. Hilarious. Thoughtful. Inspiring." I used to send myself an email, save the link as a favorite or make it a bookmark. Well... you can do those things still - but for things that you want to visually see together? Pinterest.

It's a vision board that people use for all kinds of things. Inspiration, funny quotes, decorating, gift ideas, crafts/DIY projects to do, holiday fun, ideas for photos, meal planning, styling, etc etc. It's really what you make of it. You find that thing online that starts you saying, "Ohhh." and you... PIN it.

Me: I have different boards for different subjects (you categorize your pins on boards). I use it to keep track of things I want to do, try and remember. I have holiday boards for things to do during the holidays, or costume ideas for Halloween as well as gifts I want to give, get or funny quotes I like. The list keeps shifting.

Yes folks, another thing to spend time doing online. Too much time is can be wasted. It was fun when I was decorating the new house. I could keep track of how much stuff cost as I weighed each product against each other. I read a blog that I think totally explains it - if you want to know the how to and why to. I imagine you can just sign up for an account, but if you need an invite - let me know. Suzanne over at Behbehblog breaks it down with an easy "how to." If you know me at all, you know I love me some instructions and screen shots. Most people are super overwhelmed to start... and then? They get addicted. Pinterest is the new FB crack - remember the first time? Same thing. You get sucked in. And then the next thing you know - you are writing paragraphs about something only 1/2 of the intended audience is reading, if that.

Here's my point.

Martha Stewart can relax - I'm not coming for her job but I AM
doing something with her website. Like the pin that inspired this
staircase and this face.

Something amazing happened recently. Not only did Pinterest help in the decorating of our new home - but it is inspiring CRAFTS & CREATIVITY up in here. It started with a favor idea for the kid's birthday, that spilled into Halloween because the kid has a new found love for creepy and now I'm a Princess skirt (tutu) deep into half of a 100% homemade costume and ready for more.Pinterest provides ideas, inspiration, fun and a total time suck. The only way to make good on that time suckage? Do something! And something I have done.

It's been 2 weeks and with every little project I feel accomplished. In the time it took me to start this post and publish it, I'm another 2 projects deep. One completed salt dispenser from a mason jar WHAT? (Note to self: Pinterest loves herself some mason jars) and craft supply jars. Sure, if you click through you'll find that all I did was print out labels, print google images, tie knots and cut templates - but dang they are festive.

completed (sucka easy) "projects"

Making an Entrance

2011-10-11T11:02:00.004-04:00

Ever since I saw the series premier of Modern Family I've wanted to be in a scenario to walk into a room, holding up something singing:

Nants ingonyama bagithi
Baba Sithi uhm ingonyama
Nants ingonyama bagithi baba
Sithi uhhmm ingonyama
IngonyamaSiyo NqobaIngonyama
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
What am I talking about? Are you having a seizure? No. It's the opening scene of the Lion King. Obviously, I googled the words - because if you were to ask us it is:

Awwww
She-angway
Shaniqey-wha
Cha-gong-gong

Here's how Modern Family does it:

L saw The Lion King in the theatre and LOVED.IT. We got her the movie - for no reason, just for being an awesome kid. Fine, we also we wanted to watch a movie we haven't seen 1958 times - I'm looking at you Tangled. To show her she was going to own the classic - the ball & chain walked into the kitchen singing. I wish I had my camera out because L had a deep belly laugh and loved it. Then she wanted to try.

Here is her rendition:

We do things big around here. Now most everything, we are raising above our heads singing... it's not old (yet).

Be Careful What You Nag For

2011-10-06T17:28:00.001-04:00

Tuesday
L, "Mama, how about we walk to school tomorrow?"
Me, "Sure thing! That'll be fun!"

Wednesday
L, "Mama, you forgot. We didn't walk to school!"
Me, "Oh I forgot! Tomorrow."
L, "Why'd you forget?"
Me, "That's how forgetting works - you just forget."
L, "Why?"
Me, "I don't know why I forgot - but that is what forget means - you accidentally don't do something or get something - because you forget."
L, "Why'd you forget though, Mama?"
Me, "I don't know. Tomorrow."
L, "Will you forget?"
Me, "I won't know until I do or if I do. Tomorrow, okay - it'll be fun."

Thursday
Me, "We don't have time to walk to school today, but I'll pick you up and we'll walk if I can leave early enough!"
L, "Will you forget?"
Me, "I don't think so - but you never know!"

Fast forward, 4 hours... I do not forget and pick her up - on time - at school.

L, "Did you walk here?"
Me, "I did!"
L, "Will I walk home?"
Me, "Yup - with me - that's how this works."

Fast forward, 2 hours and we finally see the door to our house.

L, "Maybe next time we take the car, Mama. Don't forget."

wordless wednesday

2011-10-05T23:00:00.003-04:00

4 years & 1 week going on 25.
We.Are.Doomed.

What is in a name?

2011-10-04T11:55:00.001-04:00

I realize there are questions both from friends & family and those reading what in the what does JJ stand for and how'd we get there. Like I did for L, I'll explain.

Truth: we accidentally made life a wee bit harder on our girls - right out of the gate.

Good news: It will (hopefully) build character.

My girls will likely never be able to be out and about and buy a souvenir with their name on it. Whoops. Sorry. But really, who needs a key chain with their name on it? More good news? There is always etsy.com; they can get their personalization on in other ways.

L's name is common, but spelled in a different way. Is it on purpose that it is spelled in an uncommon way? No. It just sort of happened. I feel for her, really I do - but it is what it is. And to be fair, her name was a name in my head before it was cool again. I'm ahead of the trend, who knew? She will forever have to spell her name out, first AND last. And the last? It's a doozy. JJ is no different. Sorry, kid. But we couldn't leave it just for your sister.

True story: we had 2-3 names for a boy or a girl that we were talking about for months. NONE of which were what we ended up naming JJ. For the first two weeks JJ joined the family, I had to say her name out-loud, a lot, because I wasn't used to it yet.

The girls names we talked about, we still love. I feel pretty strongly that one of the names, in particular, is coming; she just isn't here yet. {Spoiler alert: we hope to have three - and while I would love a little boy - I feel like we'll have another little girl} We spent months talking about these names but there was something that told us we hadn't said "THE" name just yet. The Wednesday before JJ was born (who was born on a Monday) we threw all the names out and decided to consider other names.

The ball & chain threw out the name Jocelyn ...which gave way to Joss as a nickname.

Facts:

Joss really spoke to me, I LOVED it.
Jocelyn, not so much. I actually have pretty strong feelings against Jocelyn (not as a general rule on the name - just for our kid).
The nickname I had intended for L didn't go the way I thought it would last time so I'm hesitant.
I have pretty strong thoughts about names.

I couldn't get "Joss" out of my head though, so I did some reconnaissance on the name. Knowing my ~~obsessions~~ thoughts with names I wanted it to be right. Turns out? We found the name.

Pretty sure this is the moment we decided
and agreed on her name - in the delivery room.

Joss is a variant of Joseph, which is my father-in-law's middle name. I am obsessed with having some kind of tie to family in a name. I feel strongly our children's names should be either directly inspired or connected to family names or through some crazy ass 6 degrees of separation - connection; otherwise known as a ~~humor me~~ ~~Hail Mary~~ stretch. Since I can't just have a nickname as the full name - we went with Josslyn. It's a pretty name, it's slightly different, it's totally nicknameable - and I thought with her sister's name it went perfectly. L's full name is two names in one as well and they go nicely together. We went with Jane as her middle name as Jane is the female version of John, my father-in-law's first name and not only do I dig JJ as another nickname possibility but her initials are my father in law's initials and L's initials are my moms. It's perfection. As much as we loved some of the other names we were thinking of when we met JJ we knew she fit with Joss. Joss was thrown in the game - and then when we met her? We just knew.

Now that you know her name - let's talk about confusion with the issues that come with the name (besides the inevitable spelling issues).

Issue 1: No, I did not name my child after...

Joss Stone - that said, whenever we do the inevitable "Joshlyn? Joceyln? Josh?" dance - I go with, "Josslyn. Joss - like Joss Stone."

Joss & Main - don't know what it is? It's a flash sale site. To be fair it is the ONLY email sign up like this site (think groupon, livinsocial that sort of thing) that I allow come to my inbox straight, verses having it go to a folder in my email that I can check out when I have time or in the mood vs. being hit with daily sale emails. It took a few weeks to realize the connection. Dumb - I know, but the truth.

Funny side note: one of the middle names we were thinking of before Joss came into the picture? Macy. Not after Macy Gray OR Macy's but either way both would have been assumed as well.

Josslyn Jacks from General Hospital. Side note: all the "actors" on the soap call her Jocelyn. They add the E or the A, so frankly I didn't even know her name was Josslyn until after I got a few questions on the GH connection. Her middle name is John. Which I love and we considered John as a (girl) middle name for one of our other name choice and then again for Joss. Thanks B we didn't because again until I did some research I didn't know that was her name - and no one would ever believe me if I said it wasn't after GH if we had John as a middle name.

Issue 2: Her actual name.
It is Josslyn. I'll give you some leeway with just hearing her name - FINE. Perhaps you'll hear Jocelyn some have even heard Joshlyn. When it's spelled out and you read it - use the letters. Letters in the word make up the sounds you say. That's how words work. When you spell & read it - Josslyn. JOSS.LYNNE. It is NOT JocAlynne. There is no A. No E. Not three syllables. Two: Joss-lyn. You probably read this whole post reading "JocAlynne." Good news though... Joss, super easy to say & spell - just go with that.

Issue 3: Parental guilt.
See issues 1 & 2 - home girl is going to be dealing with this for the rest.of.her.life. Sorry girl. We love you... and not to place blame... but... you'll notice it was your dad's idea. I'm just saying.

When Good Ideas Go Bad

2011-10-02T11:36:00.002-04:00

Last week was our girl's birthday. It was her first birthday away from family. We wanted it to be special. More on that, later. One of the things we did was set up some of her current favorite animals having a tea party waiting for her, after school - including a drawing on her chalkboard saying "Happy Birthday, L!" Cute idea, right? So. Cute.

She loved it.

The next day was her first day without our au pair - she went home and of course that's sad for our girl. More on that, later. I thought it would be special to make this something we (sometimes) do. Day two I set up the tea set again, different animals, another one sitting on the couch reading a book and changed the picture. We made it look like the troll was up to mischievous good.

The first full day without L's Annie was nothing short of a sht show. L was sad and acting out. It was awesome (alert: that's sarcasm). There were tears (hers not mine, yet). There were time outs. There was a lot going on. We finally got out of the house (plan: 2 pm, actual departure: 4:30 pm) and before we set sail for our errands I sent C a text.

"Can you do me a favor? If you get home before us - rearrange the tea party - make them play a game or something... and add some kind of message to be a good girl and give me a damn break. Maybe she will listen to her animals."

He responded with, "On my way home - will do that as soon as I get home!"

Fast forward: it turns out a tree came down behind our neighborhood and of course our (side) of the block was affected. After L & I finished our errands, we picked up the ball & chain- went out to dinner - thinking that the electricity would be on by the time we got home (company said 8 pm). We arrived home at 8:45 pm. Lights out. Total darkness. We spun it as an adventure! We'd all sleep in bed together, hang out - read a book by flashlight. It's just like camping! Everyone loves camping!! (Except us - we left that out) It'll be awesome!

When we came back in my dear husband thought... oh wait - let's be sure to see if the stuffed animals have been up to anything while we were gone. Yeah, nothing like a severe creep factor to add to an already scary situation for our newly but very emotional four year old. I WISH I could have taken a picture of what the scene was... in the dark... being spotlighted by a flashlight - but you can imagine it, can't you?

(picture this in TOTAL darkness)

Nothing creepier than Rudolph & Paddington Bear going head to head in the dark in an aggressive game of Candy Land while being looked over by a fairly aggressive and threatening note sent by two sociopath trolls. Just when you think we have a great idea? We go and take it too far.

Needless to say she slept with us that night and the trolls have a new creepy factor to them, I'm not sure will wear off.

Good Talk Bad Talk

2011-09-27T10:52:00.001-04:00

My baby grew up. When did that happen? Our oldest, turning four in a mere hours by the time this is posted is growing up faster than I might like. It's happening everywhere in every way and when I least expect it. Example: I brought her to a birthday party - her first in the area. It was another first for her: I was to leave.

I think there was one other parent there, might have been a neighbor? But all the other parents? Left. Gone.

I was frantic. At first the kid was clingy and shy but within seconds she had found a friend from her class and while confused that I would leave (because I had never left her at a friends before let alone a party) she was fine with it. Me? I was not. I was totally freaked but I left anyway, because I'm not going to that parent hovering over her, when everyone else left.

What's a girl to do? I called my mom.

My fear was this: sometimes L gets upset - for what would seem like 'no reason.' Example - kids accidentally bonk into each other. She accidentally hurts someone... the other kid- who ACTUALLY got hurt - cries. L then cries because she feels bad that she hurt the other kid and/or she is so embarrassed and/or overwhelmed and she cries. I don't know where she gets that from {looks around innocently}...

I was so afraid, she was going to get overwhelmed, cry, and since the other kids so much more mature? I don't know - I thought it would carry over in school or something (mean girls exist and they start at 3. FYI) and she is so jammed right now about making friends - I was nervous for her. Yes I realize these are all messed up sentence structures, ongoing and don't make sense - but I think they paint the picture of my ~~insanity~~ thought process.

So back to the story at hand:

I call my mom... to just be like, "Can you believe it? She's 4! They have drop off parties already? I had no idea!"

Her response?
First thing she says?

"Have you had the good touch, bad touch conversation yet??"

Awesome.

Here I am, worried she might cry or just have a weird social moment ... and now that's escalated to possible molestation.

What's a girl to do? I had a beer at 2pm.

That night, C & I decided to attack the "good touch bad touch" conversation - completely unprepared. I have 2-3 reference books to choose from that likely touch upon this subject (ba-dum-cha) or I don't know the world wide web? There has to be an about.com page on how to talk to kids about this? Perhaps a youtube.com video? Nah - we go at it - totally unprepared and frankly I'll be surprised if we didn't scar her. In related news: this whole parenting gig is difficult. How the hell are we not required to have some kind of operating license to do it?

Recalculating Plans

2011-09-26T15:12:00.003-04:00

It was a lovely Sunday morning and the kid and I were discussing what the plan would be.

Me, "What do you want to do today? We can do anything you want." (Note to self: never say that)
L, "I know! Let's go to my old school and visit my old friends!" (As in in, Connecticut)
Me, "OH sweetie, we can't do that- that's so so far - how would we get there? What about the zoo? The Botanical Garden? The Science Museum?"
L, "Let's go to my old school! We'll get in the car, and that lady will tell us where to go - no problem!"

That lady? Jilly... our GPS... as in you have two choices for a voice: Jack or Jill. We chose Jill and apparently L thinks she's the key to transportation over here.

Flashbacks & Blessings

2011-09-22T19:19:00.002-04:00

Monday night I noticed the baby’s finger was red – at closerexamination it was swollen. Hermiddle finger was almost hot and the red discoloration went from her firstfinger pad all the way down and around to the palm of her right hand. On thetop of her finger, there was a puffy could be pussy little pocket of infection.I know, gross – and totally out of nowhere. For the first time, as a parent, in almost 4 years we calledthe doctor “after hours.” I thinkthat’s a pretty good run, if I do say so myself. We just never had the need before. And while I was sure itwasn’t life threatening, her little finger was hot and clearly infected. The other thing that concerned me washow quickly it happened because to my recollection when I was bathing her anhour earlier, I don’t remember seeing her finger like this.

We called the doctors office, spoke with the message centerand got a call back from the pediatric nurse on call at the hospital. I anticipated a homeopathic suggestionlike epson salt or warm compress. Instead I got something to the effect of: “Rundo not walk to the ER.”

Dear health professionals,

For the love of G-O-D, please refrain from using such words as: critical,imperative, complications or immediately when speaking to a parent as itrelates to the seriousness of their child’s condition.

Thank you,

Parent who shat herself

I googled complications that the nurse mentioned on thephone; I fell down a google wormhole on the way to the hospital (I wasn’tdriving – relax) of panic. I didall I could to remain calm, mostly just cursing underneath my breath. It’s scary. They were worried how the infection and coloration was spreading (quickly) and without reason. It wasn't started through a cut fingernail or cut on her finger.

We arrived to the ER and as promised, our name was “leftat the front” so that we could quickly passthrough to the Pediatric ER. Any emergencysituation is scary, but might I be so bold to say that a Pediatric specific ERtop 5 scariest places on Earth? Are we agreed? Super. Probably as scary as a… I don’t know?Let’s say a NICU?

I’m trying to keep it together. As we waited to be admitted C realized heforgot his cell phone in the car – so he left me. Our history should have toldus this was a bad idea; what you may not know is whenever he leaves me (even iffor a minute) in a hospital something goes awry. As I breathed through thestress of bringing my baby girl to the ER in the middle of the night, albeit8:30 pm, I thought I was doing okay. It’s an infection. It’s just her finger. Everything will be fine.Breathe. As I'm thinking this I look down at my baby girl. She was sleeping soundly, if anything was wrong we'd know, she'll be fine. We'll be fine.

Ah, how peaceful it is (before the storm).

It's right about now we get called in. Me & my baby girl - walk through the automatic doors into the waiting room for the Pediatric ER. As we walk into the room, I notice a gorgeous aquarium wall. Breathing in the moment, I realize I can't breathe out. My breath is quite literally taken away. I can not exhale and instead I'm immediately (hysterically) crying.

By the beauty of the fish? Not quite.

I'm having what I can only imagine is a mini panic attack. I'm panicking and all I can see is this fish tank. The picture you see? It's not what I saw that night. It was the aquarium at Mass General Hospital. In the NICU unit L spent a month in. Sheer. Panic.

My dear husband came back. He returned to find his previously (somewhat) sane wife now in a corner (not facing the aquarium, because well - obviously) in a pile of tears. In the minutes he was gone, all I could do was struggle to breathe through flashbacks as I would imagine someone with PTSD would do.

God damn f'ing fish... I thought they were supposed to be calming?

Fast forward: I pull it together and don't face the damn tank. In terms of our "emergency"? JJ is fine. I'll spare you the details - but there was some minor blood shed, major tears lost, (another) small piece of my sanity taken and $100 for the visit. At the end of the day? Basically homegirl had a (very aggrevated & infected) ingrown nail.

An ingrown nail. An emotionally taxing ingrown nail.

Baby's first ER run and we were home within a few hours; nothing serious (thank God) to come of the situation - but perhaps just a quick moment and reminder of how lucky we are. A slap in the face - a reminder - what not to take for granted.

Intermission

2011-09-14T11:14:00.001-04:00

I had SUCH high hopes for this maternity leave of mine. I was going to organize things: the basement was going to go from mess to 'mazing (as in so AMAZING you leave off the A). I was going to read books. I was going to write (here or) anywhere. I can barely press post on things I've already written and just a need a quick look over. I published this post earlier this week (edited to note, by the time I press publish on this post? It's more like 2+ weeks later), even though I wrote it a month ago. I guess I forgot to press publish? Since it was about life PRE JJ, I had to back date it. That just seems like cheating.

I was going to give this space a face lift - finally choose a new name, new URL, redirect links, update this bad boy visually. We all have pseudonyms in my head - not just letters. Why you ask? To ward off worrisome family members who believe we are going to be targeted. Scary world wide web and too many 20/20s have been seen.

Truth, that's more of a line: as I have thought of said creep situations too. I watch too many Criminal Minds to not think worst case scenarios.... I digress.

You know what I have accomplished?

1. JJ

Obviously I had a big ~~uterus~~ hand in creating ~~and carrying (not that counts for more)~~ yet another beautiful baby girl. JJ is amazing. She is adorable. She is precious. She is STRONG. She never sleeps when it's dark.And while I've always liked vampires, the fact that she might be one is worrisome and frankly cramps my productivity.

2. Taking pictures.

I'm trying to make sure that JJ doesn't meet the fate of 2nd born children around the world. I want to make sure I take as many pictures of her, as I have of her sister. The result? I've taken more pictures than I can handle editing, so you may never see them.

3. Drinking water.

5 day old JJ vs. the Mercy

Maybe you don't think this is brag book worthy. Maybe you are laughing. Maybe you think I'm over exaggerating. To this I say: you can't possibly understand how much water I have been drinking since JJ got here. Seriously. The hospital gave us water bottles - to support my habit so I can't complain. I suggest having a baby if for no other reason than having him or her at Mercy Hospital in St. Louis so you too can be the owner of this bad boy. Which leads to, I'm drinking all this water because this kid is eating. Which means I am feeding her. Constantly. Well, not right now - but with any key stroke she might awake and this will mean lights out on this post. Just the thought of what is to come, makes me thirsty, because I'm going to have feed the baby - it's a vicious cycle.

{True story: she just freaking woke up, as I type this - the beast is awake. Let's see when I get back to this. It's 5:30 pm on Wednesday - this'll be a fun little experiment, won't it?}

{Game on - it's 4:00 pm on Tuesday... the following week. It seemed like just an instant for you? Didn't it.}

Spoke too soon, game off.

{Game on, again. Now it's Wednesday at 8:30 am}

So that's how that works - I didn't even mean to make this point when I started the post, in fact there was some other point I was going to get to but of course since I didn't write it down - it's lost and gone forever. I guess accomplishing 3 things over the last 7 weeks - especially due to their magnitude (seriously, do you SEE that water bottle?) isn't too bad. There are of course a million other things going on, simultaneously, and I'll try to get to them if not for keeping you updated but so that I can be reminded of them someday. Until then, please forgive this intermission and in frequent updates. I'll do what I can do, when I can - but between the kid, the pictures and the water I'm handling about all I can right now.

And seriously... I wish I could have a film crew following me because I kid you not.... she is up. Game off.

Funny Girl

2011-09-03T22:59:00.001-04:00

True story: L has discovered youtube.com and found a video of a baby laughing. She wasn't alone out there on the world wide web, don't worry! She found a few that she LOVED and wanted to watch them over and over again. Something a little like this:

Fast forward, the other day, I hear SCREAMING from the living room.

"COME QUICK it's JJ!!!!" my heart drops, I just went to the bathroom - what happened? Jesus Christ, this is what 20/20s are made of.

I come in to find L standing over her baby sister with a smile ear to ear- prouder than I've ever seen her.

JJ was laughing (or so L thinks - she's too young I think) but she was kinda squealing like a little laugh?

L, "Mama, look at JJ - look what I made her do!"

Oh how I love their love with a side of please let this last forever.

Mommy's Little Girl

2011-08-20T18:49:00.001-04:00

Scene: Driving down the street L points out a restaurant we have been to, Blueberry Hill.

C, "What's that? Raspberry Bump?"
Her, "No, Blueberry Hill."
C, "Orange Hill?"
Her, "NO! Blueberry Hill!"
C, "Pumpkin Mountain?"
Her, "BLUEBERRY HILL! Be serious, C!"

Not Dad. Straight up scolding in nature. Calling him by his first name, because she means business. Don't mess with this kid. Also, I don't know where she gets it from {looks around, innocently}.

Our Girls

2011-08-18T23:19:00.001-04:00

I have so much to say and so little energy to do so. It's a happy exhaustion (for now). I reserve the right to have a freak out at another time. But now? This picture captures it all.

Our girls.

A new nightly routine of snugging out in our bed. All my loves.

It's lovely.

Religious Education

2011-08-16T10:00:00.004-04:00

At the hospital, there were religious statues all over. When we were still waiting to be discharged so L took a walk with Grammy. Sometimes she loves to give you a play by play on all the things she saw or learned. Luckily, today was one of those days.

Her, "Mama. We took a walk and guess who we saw?"
Me, "Who?"
Her, "The blasted mother."
{pause}

Give it a minute.
Who might she be talking about?

The BLESSED Mother of course. Who from here on out, we'll be referring to the BLASTED mother.

Family Time & Time Served

2011-08-15T13:23:00.000-04:00

Oh hello. How do you do? I'm back. We're back. It's great to be back. You might be wondering, "Where the hell have they been?" Maybe you saw the last post and thought, "Oh well - they are settling into their new routine!"

I'd say a little bit of yes, but mostly a healthy heaping of no, not quite.

Side note & disclaimer: This is one of those moments I wish I hadn't shared my URL with family. Sorry people. But I'm going to stay true to what I want for this space, and just be out with it. Also, for the record - this is not meant in any other way but how I actually mean it: with all due respect, a little bit of raw venting and a scoop of sarcasm & snarky personality. You know, aka, my charm. Layman's terms? Don't take it personal.

Whoever said that having a new baby was tough work, didn't have 3 weeks of family visits back to back. Truth: that was the real adjustment; not the tiny human.

We love that everyone wanted to come. We love that everyone got to spend some seriously good quality time with L and JJ. We love that everyone got to visit the STL. We love a lot of the last 3 weeks, but DANG it's exhausting. Of course everyone wanted to help; hold the baby, help with meals, help with clean up on aisle Guarro. It was great for a lot of reasons. It's also a lot to deal with.

First, it's overwhelming even though no one wants it to be - it just IS. Everyone tries to avoid it, but it's life. We have to figure out meals, things to do, making sure everyone has what they need, turns in the bathroom, where to eat, when to eat, what to eat, just day to day. Add to that our own schedule, hang ups and routines? It's overwhelming. Everyone is a little different, and having a revolving door of visitors means no down time and just a continued ride through the door. For three weeks we had people arriving, then leaving and later that day arriving. Exhausting.

Since our move, L has barely gotten back into regular schedule only for it to be thrown up on it's head (again). Every grandparent believes in different sleep patterns (none of which are in line with ours), nutrition needs (none of which are in line with ours), and discipline expectations (none of which are in line with ours). As a result, home girl was MORE than a wee bit wound at the end of each stay. The thing is, grandparents aren't supposed to be concerned with these things- it's about the fun - it should be. It's also usually a day or two, not large blocks of time. Problem with that? After 3 weeks... it's not so much fun for the parents. L started to take on some habits that might be common for other kids, but not OUR kid. We're lucky; she's a well behaved kid, makes good decisions and is pretty amazing overall. Is she perfect? Absolutely not, but regularly misbehaving and talking back? Doesn't happen. After a month of different scheduling? Home girl was acting out, screaming "NO" in our face, stomping around, huffing and puffing, tantruming about dinner or about anything and crying for no reason. She is a creature of habit and needs structure; without it she's a hott mess.

Second, we (barely) have space for people, but unlike previous homes we do actually have a spare bed and space. I don't know how comfortable it was, but like I said, it is what it is. Where we don't have space? Vehicles. C's car barely has enough room for the immediate family, with the new addition (and car seats). Enter my (poor) car. I have a completely unreasonable car as a mom, and now a mom of two. (Side note: Shit. I'm a mother of two. When the hell did that happen?) It's what I have and we are going to get a bigger car at some point this year. It's just been slightly busy lately so you can imagine it hasn't been a priority. With that, we can't go anywhere together (with more than 2 adults and 2 kids), without taking two cars. On the other side of the coin, no one can drive the ball and chain's car, other than me. If anyone wanted to go anywhere, they had to drive my car. My car, as much as I love it, is older, a convertible and small. It has it's own charm, but it also has things like sensitive steering column and ignition, loud side effects (the convertible top is not electric, so you can hear the wind coming through as you drive), and it turns out it is falling apart. Every new driver would come home with another report of something going wrong with it. The glitch? We couldn't do much about it because without the car, the next leg of visitors would be home bound.

Three weeks ago, when I last drove the car, there was ONE tail light out. After three weeks of the revolving door of drivers, as I write this I await hearing from our new mechanic whom I have become close with after days of conversations. I'm learning so much about cars. I might become certified to fix vehicles during my maternity leave. After three weeks of not driving, I drove my car the other day to the mechanic to get looked at. Now? My reunion with my car included issues such as, but not limited to: back brakes (totally grinding - metal to metal need replacing), tail light replacement, new headlight, turn signals out and not working, parking break replacement, something about an axle, oil dipstick replaced, and finally a broken glove box. Doesn't that sound like something Hallmark movies are made of?

Finally, while there isn't much a baby does at this point - what she does effects the rest of the house. Some people think, "never wake a sleeping baby." Those people? Do not include our doctor. We need to make sure she is eating regularly and getting on a regular schedule. This includes waking her up every two hours to make sure she's eating. And oh boy, does she like to eat. Two side effects of these facts? Comments & confusion.

Even our au pair seems to ask pretty regularly, "She's eating, again?"

Yes. YES. She's eating again. Every two hours people. Every.Two.Hours.

Some people, even if they don't mean to, seem to be visibly confused when I'm trying to wake up the baby. Alternately, everyone wants to hold the baby - and doing so, the kid falls asleep which is what we are trying to avoid. Insert me trying to wake up the kid and the cycle continues.

Also (not) fun? Breastfeeding, every two hours, with a house full of people. I've talked about how I'm not a huge fan of public breastfeeding. I don't know what it is, I'm not comfortable. Yes, I believe it's a gift that I can breastfeed. Yes, I believe it's the right of women to do so or not - wherever, however. Yes, I believe it isn't obscene. Yes, I believe it's natural. Yes, I am a total prude and it freaks me out.

With L, I was definitely worse about it. I was covered up more, even in front of the husband. This time around? It's just different. I'm not as freaked out by it, but I certainly am not going to be whipping them out. I still use my cover up - even in the house, with or without family in the house. That said, having the house full of people and most that are super uncomfortable with it - makes for an even MORE uncomfortable situation. It's like salt on the awkward wound.

At the end of ~~our sentence~~ the month, to say we were ready to spend some time with our new family of four, would be true. To say we raised our fist in the air and may have pumped them with delight saying "Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, Free.At.Last." May also be true.

Does that mean we love our family any less? Absolutely not. Does that mean we didn't appreciate the time, energy and money it means to visit us? Absolutely not. Does that mean we didn't appreciate the help and added love, hugs, and hands we had around the house? Absolutely not.

It means we love our family, as we hope our girls love us. For the immediate time being and forever more, we're a family of our own with our own roles to figure out. Currently the role of best damn big sister is being played by L, best damn father, helper & cook is being played by the ball and chain, the cow, cranky B is being played by yours truly and the hungriest, farts like a man, adorable cherub of a baby girl is being played by JJ.

Stay tuned though, the roles are always shifting... I hope sooner rather than later!

Sisters

2011-07-28T10:50:00.000-04:00

Her story is (but of course) a story - and it is hers I can't wait to tell. To start with I should introduce her.

Our newest addition.

JJ Guarro weighing in at 7 lbs 6 oz and amazing in every way.

Screw Thatl

2011-07-24T08:55:00.000-04:00

While drilling into the wall the screw slipped and I screamed...

L, "Mama. What happened? Did you screw yourself? You get screwed?"

Girl... you don't even KNOW.

My First and Only

2011-07-21T15:00:00.000-04:00

Dear Baby Girl,

I know, I know - you aren't a baby anymore, but I keep telling you - you'll always be MY baby - no matter how many babies we have - you get special spot of number 1. Sooner than you know you won't be the only kid on this block. I just need you to know that you a kick ass kid. Sure, lately you've been testing some limits and you may or may not get so excited sometimes you lose your mind and make a decision I wish you wouldn't (see: slamming into me like a pro wrestler or bonking your dad in the nose) - overall we are lucky.

We are lucky that you are our first. You make everything easier. You make me laugh daily and most days tear up because of your sweetness. You are caring, loving, and damn do you know how to give a hug. Sometimes though, if we're being honest here, when you kiss on me - it gets a little sloppy and no one likes a sloppy kisser, FYI.

When things don't go the way we think they will or want them to - I think about you. Your story was not what I anticipated and it's the best story I have. You show me that when things don't go the way we want, there is a reason - there is a plan - and the very best can come from it. You are the very best, girl.

I know you don't really know what is about to hit you - but I hope, when you look back you remember the adventure and excitement of meeting your new baby sister or brother - but most of all how adding another member of this family just shows you how much we love YOU and how much love this family has to give. That's our goal. You're the best, kid - and our favorite L.

Love you most. Love you always.
Mama (& Daddy, too)

Scrapes & (Ego) Cuts

2011-07-20T09:00:00.000-04:00

Me: "OUCH!" (mumbles.. probably some kind of mixture of curse and nonsensical words)
L: "What's wrong, Mama?"
Me: "Nothing much, just the baby."
L: "The baby's kicking you?"
Me: "Yup. Everyday. All day." (trying to NOT seem as angry as I might be)
L: "Can I see?"
Me: "Sure, but you really can't see the baby kick, just my belly move a little." (I lift my shirt)
L: "Yeah. The baby's scratching you - I can SEE!"
Me: "You can't see the baby!"
L: "I can see the scratching!" (she points)
Me: "Awesome. No. Those are stretch marks - not a scratch...."
L: "It's a scrape it's a scrape! The baby is scraping you!" (Note: this may sound like she is saying in a horriying way - not the case, almost excited & facinated combined.)
Me: "Ok."
L: "Okay, let's cover that belly now."

An Apologetic Plea of Mercy

2011-07-18T15:14:00.002-04:00

Dear ~~Ninja~~ Baby,

At first I felt terrible. I haven't taken pictures like I did with your sister. I haven't been as diligent about detailing all of the stories. I have been doing what people say they do with the second... what I said I would never do. My 28 year brother, your uncle, still talks about how he doesn't have a baby book. Would this would not be the fate of my beloved second child? NO way. NO HOW!

But you know what? Forget it. I'm sorry but beyond that, I release my guilt. While I hate to (start) comparing, for the record your sister NEVER beat the crap out of me like you do. She never bruised me from the inside out. I mean I joked about it, but she never physically roughed me up. Last week you were breech, I felt it happen and then I felt you go right side down. You know what? That was the opposite of awesome. I've got the sug, my mac & cheese counts are low. All I want to do is eat ice cream all day, but instead I have to deal with seltzer water instead. A mother's memory is long, my friend. And despite what my doctor assures me, you have decided to start to make the commute "home." Everyone says this 'pressure' is 'normal.' I beg to differ. My normal is your sister - who stayed as far North as possible, some might say held anchor to my esophagus for dear life so this ~~piercing pain~~ ~~constant ache~~ ~~opening of sesame~~ 'pressure' is not NORMAL.

Listen, you don't have much more time. Just stay put, relax and get comfortable. Don't worry, we won't leave you cooking for 3 months, like I think we did your sister. Next week this will all be over. Just kick back, grab hold of that esophagus and leave your ~~carrier~~ mother be. Stop will all the nonsense.

Thank you,

Management

Shiny Breath

2011-07-08T09:00:00.005-04:00

The ball & chain: "L, your morning breath is like kitty litter. Meow!"
L: "Kitty GLITTER?!"

photo credit: Tumblr, kitty glitter search - obviously

And we wonder why she is confused with things and call some things by random names... how are you going to correct a glittering kitty?

March to the Beat: Homegirl's First Parade

2011-07-06T20:12:00.003-04:00

You know when you see things on television and you think, "Does this just happen in a sitcom or a movie?"

That's what I think about when I hear about neighborhood parades. Truly. It's not the ONLY thing I see and say that ... but it's one of those things I didn't know really existed. They do and as curious as they are, I love them.

Who.Am.I?

We participated in a neighborhood parade on July 4th - where people wore plaid, it was B.Y.O.I. (bring your own instrument) and we marched IN the parade behind a man and a slide whistle.

A.Slide.Whistle.

I freaking LOVE this place. It was amazing. I wore black; of course so one might say I'm fitting RIGHT in over here.

Before the snake escaped... Bronx Zoo memories

2011-07-01T12:00:00.000-04:00

Little known fact. The ball & chain is afraid of snakes. Like scream like a woman and run for your life, forsake your wife and child and get the hell out of dodge scared. There is an understanding, if a snake comes a crawling, I'm on my own.

In a "Post-Snake Escaped" world, he may never return to the Bronx Zoo. I'm glad I have the memories I have then...

1983

2009

You know you are from the Northeast when...

2011-06-27T18:01:00.003-04:00

you think it's a great idea to poke fun at the reality ahead.

We are boxes away from being totally unpacked. We haven't hung a picture yet, but we are (almost) box less (except for the boxes that hold pictures)...

Him, "I put all the extra boxes you wanted me to keep in the bomb shelter. Since we aren't using that area."
Me, "Well.. unless there is a tornado -and we need to escape."
Him, "Right, but I figured - if the house gets taken, at least we'll have boxes. L can build a fort to occupy herself OR we can use it as shelter."

As a Northeastern, we laugh (nervously) at the fate that is ahead; at some point the alarm is going to sound and we try to keep it light to avoid living in (constant) fear. I can tell you a few things.

1) We don't really treat it like a joke, it's how we get through it. Read here: Don't worry family - when the alarms sound we will be on the move.
2) You have NOT heard a thunderstorm until you've heard a thunderstorm up in St. Louis. For real. The night before last a storm took over for 4 hours in the middle of the night. My husband, he will tell you, is the most affected. He may or may not stay up through out storms. He says the dog is affected first, and I MIGHT give him that, but I'd also be comfortable saying they are tied for scardy pants. Sure, the ball & chain isn't jumping in bathtubs like the dog is - but something tells me he wouldn't be against it. The kid is third up, understandably. Me? I sleep like a baby. I barely sleep through the night, but give me a thunderstorm and snooze. I am out!
3) The Northeast's thunderstorms can best be described as the "mild salsa" to St. Louis' "Punch your throat out hot sauce" storms.
4) Stranger than strange? The storms are horrific, loud, and crazy - and then an hour later, possible a few - it's hotter than hell, the sun is out and the skies are blue. ~~Toto~~, Abelle, we NOT in ~~Kansas~~ West Hartford, anymore.

A Child's Loss

2011-06-23T10:00:00.000-04:00

Note: This post has been in the making - during my wee bit sabbatical as we tried to get things worked out - but it's a scar on my heart.

My baby is 3 and while she claims I can't call her "baby" any more, I do and I will. Try stopping me. My baby had her first loss and it breaks my heart tissue by tissue, muscle by muscle.

We moved, we've been talking about moving for as long as we've known. Now, to be fair, we haven't known long - but we wanted to prepare her as much as we could. We knew the transition would be tough and we knew taking her from the only home, environment and schedule she's ever known would be hard. But can I tell you the truth? You say that - I say that and I MEAN it but when I really really think about it? How can you really tell what it will feel like? I knew it might be hard, but I didn't know it would be as hard as it was. I didn't know her little memories, mind & feelings would come in the way they would and I didn't know I'd be able to see her pain in her face.

After leaving her house, her school & her friends I anticipated she would miss everything, but I don't know that I thought about how it would come about. Everyday, in any way - someone would come up.

I'd be making lunch - a salad and would add avocados... "You know who loves avocados? Patrick LOVES avocados!"
We'd be sitting on the hammock outside... "What color eyes to do you have? I have blue. You know who else has blue eyes, Elle has blue eyes like me."
We'd be eating dinner... "I miss my friends."

We'd be going food shopping... "Mama, I miss Noah's Ark. My friends. My teachers."

And sometimes in the middle of silence... "Mama, what do you think the class is learning about today?"

{heart breaks}

We're doing what we can to help her cope with her loss. She wrote her class a letter the other day, we talk about how she'll make new friends, signed up her for camp and swim class and are looking into a new preschool in the fall. While she doesn't go to daycare, she still needs to be cared for during the workday, as we both work (full time). We have an au pair again who is working out well. She is working with the kid weekly to get involved in new activities, reading different books, scheduling play dates, and even worksheets to practice her writing, drawing and other educational games. The kid is 3, she will do just fine, but it doesn't hurt her (and by extension me or the baby's daddy) any less.

I hear it just gets worse, so that's awesome. Damn, this parenting thing is serious business. How do you deal with heartbreaks - small and large, big kids and small? I don't know that I'm cut out for this... good thing we've already signed up for number 2!

wordless wednesday: new additions

2011-06-22T11:16:00.001-04:00

(my little girl has 3 new freckles & I love them so...)

Overshare

2011-06-20T11:13:00.000-04:00

L, "Mama... can you believe it? I fell in the toilet."
Me, "You did?!"
L, "Yeah, can you believe it - my feet fell in too!"
Me, "Wait. What were your feet doing in the toilet?"
L, "Yeah. It was bananas. I was standing on the toilet.." (starts to realize she is divulging too much information...)
{PAUSE}
Me, "Wait. Why were you STANDING on the toilet?"
L, "I dunno. I dunno why I do."

Daddy IS going to be SO surprised! (lie)

2011-06-19T23:16:00.000-04:00

The day she put together the surprise, she couldn't wait to tell him. She knows what a surprise is, but who wouldn't want to make this guy happy? The day she made this for her Daddy, he came home and her first question was, "Did you see your shirt?" Why did she want to tell him about his special surprise present? Obviously, because he's the best freaking dad, ever!

This morning, she woke me up so we could wrap his presents and all she kept saying was, "Daddy IS going to be SO surprised!" Obviously, he wasn't. She has been covered in paint for days and she kept talking about his "surprise shirt"... but the best dads - the best freaking dads - will open the wrapping and unleash the enthusiasm. He really is the very best. This kid and the one on the way are the luckiest freaking kids.

When I posted this picture today a comment rang TRUE:

TL: L looks so proud! Love it.
She is proud. She's proud to be the artist, she's proud to make this guy happy, most of all - she's proud to be the daughter of the Best. Freaking. Dad. Ever.

We all got a surprise when we were shown the process of her Father's Day surprise. It was our au pair's idea to put the shirt together, a friend of mine helped with the wording. This morning we got a little behind the music on the shirt and a special message from one freaking awesome kid to one freaking awesome dad:

Welcome Home, Family. Welcome Home.

2011-06-18T14:10:00.000-04:00

And then there was the end.

As one would imagine (or you might have suspected) we do have a home to call our own. OH but it wasn't easy.

Where do you start? How do you solve a problem like moving? I guess I should start from the beginning. (Side note: As I re-read this and spruce it up for (finally) posting this it feels like this happened in another life, not 3 weeks ago. DAMN. This all happened 3 weeks ago?! DAMN. The following was (mostly) written on our plane ride home... our new home in the STL.)

The only way to move, is to be moved. Having people come in, pack you up and move your stuff is as amazing as it sounds. I thought it would be stressful, but for real. The. Only. Way. To. Move. (Side note: I've started writing in one word sentences. Get. Ready.) When the driver (of the mack truck, I neglected to take a picture of) showed up, he said he'd be to the STL by Sunday. Little "thing" about that fact; our flight isn't booked until Tuesday. At first I scrambled, saw about having a friend meet our stuff or one of us changing our flight, but then I realized. HEY. Wait a minute. While I appreciate the fact that this guy hasn't seen his family in weeks; we were moving away from our friends & family for 2 years. Why did we need to reshuffle our lives? I'm thinking when he got into the truck driving business he knew about the travel.

Other than that, even with the husband gone, it was fine. He came home, as scheduled, on Thursday night and did a kick arse job cleaning up. With his hustle, we were quickly on our way on a 4 day trek across the Northeast. Our tour was a final "goodbye" to the last of our friends & family that we didn't see over the course of the last few weeks.

Truth: next time we are just going to get on a plane and go - the days of road warriors, not sleeping in our own bed and trekking from home to home is not a good idea. It's the opposite of a good idea. Now? As I write this - on a plane on our way to the STL? It was nice to see as many people as we were able to see. That said I'm freaking exhausted and frankly I was a crappy guest from house to house, party to party. Whoops. Guess why? I was freaking exhausted. Vicious cycle. Maybe now that it's over, I get that it was a good idea. Maybe. Maybe it's the fact that the ridiculousness of the last few days has already softened a little bit. Maybe.

UPDATE: 3 weeks later? Nope, still exhausted, that was a crazy ass idea. Next time we'll say come on over if you want and leave it at that. Here's how the few days before we moved went.

Friday, we went to the kid's school for her last day. They threw her a goodbye celebration, post lunch snack. We came and brought ice cream cups to celebrate her last day. The kids got ice cream and I got a punch to the gut. The kids put together a scrap book of L and her time at school. I cried within 2 minutes, husband dearest says 1 minute. I say, I'm busy making a human over here - sorry I couldn't time it.

Sweetest. Present. Ever.

I don't know that I can thank the parents & teachers adequately for capturing the years she spent there in a little scrap book. It's always going to mean something special to us because that school is where she became a little girl. She went in a baby, barely speaking, and has come out a curious, smart, funny, precocious little girl. In addition to an awesome scrap book, the teachers made her a tie dye shirt with everyone's hand print and name. Lastly, a troll. The story of the troll, goes a little like this:

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who went to a magical school with creative teachers that would use innocent relics from the 80s like a troll to entertain all the little children. One child in particular, Princess L, was especially enamored by the troll. When he would show up in her lunch box, cubby or in the class unexpected it always made her scream & giggle in delight. On days the troll would find its way to her, she would come home more excited than she could contain.

The troll was magical, indeed. Her teachers asked her to take the troll with her to St. Louis, and the Princess was happy to. Her parents were excited to offer up pictures of the trolls adventures as well. L is excited to keep in touch with her class, they will be pen pals for the rest of the school year. We thought it would be fun to maybe take the troll to the Arch or along on our adventures. It's only been a few days, and I'm thinking Hartford (the troll is now named after his hometown - best we can tell - other than the Made in China tattoo on the bottom of his foot) is going to be a permanent fixture in our everyday.

After presents, we left L at school to nap (she didn't - shock) but she had a better chance at school than she did at the house with no bed. We picked her up (and of course) cried (me, not the kid). Why did I cry? We were greeted by one of the aids at L's school - she doesn't spend a regular amount of time with our child. She approached us with tears in her eyes, sincerely, and said, "I just want to thank you for sharing your gift with us. She is a special person." We said our goodbyes, continued with the tears (behind my sunglasses) and set off for our first stop in our tour: Liza's house.

The kids had an amazing time, despite having to give at least one 'talking to' per child in the 15 hours we were there. They are going to miss each other, as much as their parents will. Shock, I cried. But we did a good job, still, to keep the drama shielded from the kid. Me more so than Liza. Sorry girl - you screaming "Isn't this TERRIBLE?!" isn't shielding. I will say, in front of L we talked about how cool our adventure is, as we have been doing for weeks. I'm sure she felt something, but at this point it didn't seem to show for her.

Next stop? Nana Lu's. We headed over to my Aunt Mary Lou's who hosted a BBQ. All was fine & good until the word watermelon came up. True story detour here. A few short hours later, we were off to Laguardia Airport (which is 30-40 minutes away from where we were) to pick up a rental car. We had 2 more "glorious" days of our road show and needed a car that went in both directions to complete the mission. We had to go 30-40 minutes away because it was a holiday weekend and it was the closest place open. When we get there? They didn't have our reservation and on the way home, I get lost (surprise). Aren't you exhausted? I was exhausted.

The next day we took a few hours to visit friends we hadn't seen in foreva and while it was excellent to see them - it was sweat your ass off hott and I was F this cranky. Between not sleeping for DAYS, it being one thousand degrees, pregnant, about to move half way across the country and ETC, I was D.O.N.E. The kid had an out of this world time and we did get to spend time with a ton of great friends that I always love seeing and always wish we lived to closer to. There were wins everywhere - but the weekend is waring on us. Most certainly me and even the kid. I can tell, at this point, she's starting to feel it all.

We were in the husband's home town now and got to spend some quality time with the family there. Grammy & Papa time galore, cousin fun, aunts & uncles - all good things. The day after the visit with friends was a lovely day filled with swimming, barbecuing and laughs. Then it was time to leave and say goodbye. I did NOT see this coming.

We go to leave and it's like a scene worthy of a makeover show. People are crying, huddled over, there are tears, fears and DRA-MA. I half expected someone to fall over in tears, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition style. We were soldiers who have enlisted and are now going off to war. That kind of scene. Like end of days, the world is over, we will never meet again. Grammy & Papa are upset. Aunts & uncles are upset. I'm upset. The husband is upset. And the kid is SO upset... why? Because Dad's upset and as he opens the car door to get the kid in, he smacks her in the face with a steel car door.

Everyone. Is. Crying.

This is NOT the 'let's keep it low key for the kid' kind of goodbye I saw coming. And now, we've physically harmed our own child in the escape process. We head to my mother's house (again) to pick up our damn dog (and get a bite of watermelon, if I'm being honest) and say our goodbyes there. I anticipate she is going to LOOSE HER MIND. Since we just left our departure fit for a warrior (or someone on death row) ... I didn't know how the next hour would go.

Good news? Nana Lu pulled it together. There was a tear or two, but nothing major. My brother was there, to keep the mood lite as he played "Hero" by Nickleback as we drove off. Bad news? We were not even CLOSE to being in St. Louis yet. We still had to get to a hotel, near the airport. It was estimated to take 45 minutes to get there. It took us close to 3 hours because we kept getting lost (no, I was not driving). At one point my OWN husband told me to, and I quote, "OK, stop talking. No talking, until we get there." We eventually got there. The stupidity really didn't stop yet, but I'll break it down fast:

We unpacked our completely packed vehicle.
Got the kid to take a bath, get ready for bed & ordered dinner.
Dinner never came, despite several calls to follow up.
We canceled the order, got chips for dinner and at 11:45 pm dinner showed up.
No one could sleep. Not the adults. Not the kid. Not the dog.
We didn't fall asleep until at least 1 am.
The alarm went off at 4 am.
We put our dog on a flight. I cried.
We saw one of L's teachers (from school) at the airport. I nearly cried.
We got on the plane & L was the best passenger on the flight, other than Hartford (her troll).
We never received a call from our move's truck driver but when we land, I get an angry message from him. He was angry he's been there since 7 am (CST) and it's now 9:30 am (CST). I'm angry he's angry. No. One. Called. Us. To. Confirm.
We get moved in and are home. Home sweet home.

Epilogue

~~Crashing~~ Napping on the couch the day we moved.
Wearing the same thing today, by the time you read
this one of us are doing the same thing.

Three weeks deep and I can say, we love it. The air is different (when it isn't forming wind tunnels of tornado death) - everything smells different, tastes different, it's different. Even Abelle is different (she survived the flight). She fell a year ago, and if you didn't read then and want to now, here's the story. The long and short of it is: she fell, we were told to put her down or invest in a 10K surgery and post-op therapy. We chose neither and she started to heal as much as she would. A year later she is almost back to normal but still has a bit of a limp and a bit slower than she was a year ago. She's happy, not in pain (as far as we know) and alive - so it's a win. Here's the thing about Abelle, post flight: she doesn't limp. I thought, at first, it was just the adrenaline from the flight. 3 weeks later, I think STL agrees with her. She loves the space we have (Ditto: our house is 2x the size of our last apartment), she loves our fenced in yard (Ditto: we have spent more time in it over the last 3 weeks than we did in the last yard we had for 2 years) and she likes the central AC (how wouldn't). We miss a lot about the Northeast, and where we lived, but by in large, change is good. It was needed and it's suiting us well. I think we're going to like it her. We're just EXHAUSTED.

Her Time

2011-06-17T23:00:00.000-04:00

I carried a watermelon.

2011-06-16T18:15:00.030-04:00

The following is a true story that took place in the few days we had in between packing for our move and physically getting on a plane. As I put it all together, this little gem stands on it's own...

The scene: a BBQ at my aunt's house on my mom's side of the family.

Nona (my grandmother): "Ah! We forgota the watermelony." (In a strong Italian accent)

Nana Lu (my mom): "Oh that's OK. Another day."

Nona: "Do you want watermelon?" (to me)

Me: "No, I'm fine."

Nona: "Something in Italian."

Me: "Do you want me to want watermelon?"

Nona: "No, do you wanta a watermelon?"
Me: "I can want watermelon, if you want."
Nona: "You do?"
Me: "Sure, I want watermelon. Do you want me to go and get it?"
Nona: "NOOOOO. Is 15 lbs."
Me: "OK."
Nona: "But you wanta a watermelon?"
Me: "There is no way the watermelon is 15 pounds. Is that even possible? I'll go get it and bring mom."

It's maybe a 10 minute walk tops- from my aunt's house to my grandmother's house. If there really was a 15 lb watermelon in our future I wasn't going to schlep all that in the heat; or if it were cold, if I'm being honest. All I wanted to do was get this damn watermelon so my grandmother would stop talking about watermelons and so that I could come back and say "I carried a watermelon" and likely be the only one in the room to get it.

My mom & I get in the car (which is parked in a driveway, facing down - toward my aunt's car) and for some reason I feel uneasy. I feel like I can't go in reverse. Truly. Everyone starts laughing at me (fine 1 cousin and my mother - but to be fair, that was everyone who could see me). I got the ball & chain and asked him to get us out of the downward dog facing parking spot we were in. He laughed, threw the car in reverse and crashed INTO my aunt's car which was parked in FRONT of us. The car wouldn't go in reverse, for real. My uncle & husband tried to PUSH the car up a 45 degree angle - but since they don't have super human powers we went with waiting for AAA.

As we wait, I crack watermelon jokes. Dessert is served? I say, "You know what would be great right now? Watermelon." Someone says, "Do you want anything to drink?" I say, "Nah, but I sure do wish I could have some watermelon." My grandmother asks if I want a brownie, I respond with, "No. I just can't stop thinking about that watermelon!" I find this hilarious. My grandmother? Not so much would be an understatement. She's all in an (Italian) huff about something that I don't really understand and since it isn't all that strange for her to be in any language of huff - I keep cracking watermelon jokes. One might think it's obvious that my jokes are what is making her cranky, but if one might think that one might never have spent any amount of time with Nona. It could have been anything.

Unfortunately (and of COURSE) AAA sent a SUV instead of a tow truck as requested - so this leaves more time for me to make watermelon jokes. The ball and chain starts to realize that Nona's crankiness is escalating and since it was his car that was trapping us all there decides to walk to my mom's and get her car and provide an exit strategy. Eventually, the tow truck comes, and though the angry mechanic (who didn't think I could drive the car - and should we 'get a man' to come) thought the car was totally broken - it turns out HE was wrong and I was in fact right - it was just reverse.

The. Car. Stopped. Being. Able. To. Go. In. Reverse.

As soon as we get the car going forward, out marches my grandmother, asking if we are going to go to her house to get the watermelon. Cause when you have a car that only goes straight, your first priority is to get your watermelon on. I tell her no, cut her off about the damn watermelon and tell her I was joking and really don't want watermelon. In a frustrated pregnant haze I may have yelled to my younger cousins something to the effect of - don't try to be funny, no one in this family will ever get you or humor.

I don't know that I convinced her - but off we went. Me in the car that would just go straight with the kid and husband and she with my mom who now had her car as well. They drove off and I'm fairly certain they were still talking about the god damn watermelon. (Side note: this is going somewhere, I promise.)

As we get back to my moms - which is where we were staying that night since we couldn't go in reverse to park, we had to circle the block and drive past my grandmothers (they live next door-ish to one another - we call it the compound). There they were. My mother in the car, my grandmother in the drive way - screaming at one another about ... you guessed it the freaking watermelon. I hopped OUT of the car, yelled for them to stop and said - something to the effect of - open the damn door and give me the god damn watermelon you crazy bats. And then - that's when I saw it. The biggest watermelon I have ever seen. This thing was fair win worthy.

(troll used for scale)

And so, I came home - carrying a watermelon.

Now why? In the delicious summer fruit's name was my grandmother SO obsessed with this freaking thing? It turns out, that there is a superstition that when a pregnant woman is craving something she must have that thing she craves or the baby she is carrying will have a birthmark the shape of the food she is craving in the place the mother touched her skin after saying whatever it is she craved.

So there I am, with all this talk about watermelons, thinking I am HILARIOUS touching my face, arm, hands, neck - my grandmother is seriously concerned my child is going to come out with watermelon shaped birthmarks around his or her body if not completely covered in them. Legitimately worried about this. What's a girl to do?

Eat that delicious watermelon and eat it I did. I cut it up (as directed) for her, my aunt and us - and delivered the HUGE ass third of deliciousness to all. I carried a watermelon to each door and with each delivery my opening line was, "I carried a watermelon." And for that moment of our week, all was right with the world.

More on our moving story - in it's completion tomorrow.

Not an update from the Saved

2011-06-14T10:29:00.016-04:00

I'm just realizing I last wrote almost a month ago, about the rapture... and maybe you thought I did, in fact, end up getting sucked up and saved as a host of crazy ass things happen. Not the case.

I'm alive & well - as is everyone living in our new diggs making the trek from the Northeast to the Midwest / South (ps... is Missouri the South OR the Midwest? Discuss & let me know what you come up with).

Covered in boxes, with no end in sight to the unpacking process but I'm told this too shall end at some point. It's not that we need help unpacking, it's that I need to get my act together to figure out WHERE I want to put things. But oh, there were things like figuring out childcare (done), activities for the kid (done), setting up our home office so we can get back to work (done), having fun with the kid (done & in progress), and exploring our new neighborhood, city & state (in progress). We're having fun though and doing what is most important - laughing (a lot) and spending more time together than we have in what feels like forever.

More on our journey here, our adventures now that we are here and more! Just wanted to say, thanks for sticking around (if you are) and if not - come back soon. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled mayhem reporting shortly.

Today was My Rapture

2011-05-24T09:37:00.000-04:00

Written: Monday, May 23, 2011

Truth: I had no idea what was up with the rapture until it was the day and there were jokes, and it was fun. For those of you under a rock - the rapture took place 5/21/2011. From GodOnThe.Net because where else would you get these "facts":

What is The Rapture?
The Second Coming of Christ will occur in stages. First, He will remove all Christians from the Earth, to protect them. This is called "The Rapture." The term comes from the Latin verb raptare, and the Greek word harpizo, both meaning "to be caught up" or "to be snatched up." Jesus will "snatch us" out of harm's way.

I was at my dad's visiting with family including my brother & grandmother. Oh it was hilarious. At 6 pm EST (when the snatch up was to happen) we prepared, crossed our arms and got ready for a smooth flight up. We giggled at @RaptureHelpDesk on twitter - though explaining twitter to my grandmother? Not as fun. As other than that, it was glorious. Two of my favorites include:

Basically all the good Christians will be beamed up to JC while complete mayhem takes over for the next few months. Oh giggle giggle, what mayhem?

Then today happened.

I believe. I BELIEVE.

MAYHEM.

Today SUCKED. I'm breathing and of course it could be worse and of course I am blessed for my (basic) health, well being my family & friends etc etc. BUT today I felt the Rapture. And I don't mean to be picky but for real, I thought shitty things came in threes.. what's up with the count of five? WHAT.IS.UP?

I got dumped by a potential childcare provider I was interviewing. To be fair, I was going to dump her... but SHE DUMPED ME?! I gave her the out and I was having second thoughts - but still. It's way better to be the heart breaker. I also gave her a big speech about this being her choice as much as it was ours - which I do truly believe, but being dumped sucks. We are (obviously) the BEST family to work with and she said, "No thanks." I want to come back to her in a few months with the person we end up finding. He or she will be blissfully happy and we come back together, holding hands, Pretty Woman style saying, "Big mistake, you. BIG. MISTAKE."
I woke up sick. Sick as a D O G. I'm knocked up, I can't take anything. So I just get to suffer, doesn't that sound lovely? You should hear me cough OR work things out with a neti pot. Sex.Y.
Missouri has had another tornado touch down. This one had fatalities. Terrible. Since we found out we were moving, I think there has been a tornado or tornado warning each month. Nothing says, "stress the hell out" like monthly tornadoes. Also, it throws family and friends into a TIZZY. Interesting fact? Where the latest tornado touched down is five hours away from where we are moving. Do I call our family in NY when something happens in DC? Just saying. Google maps people. Google maps.
I have stupid gestational diabetes and had to go to diabetes class today. This did not suck. Having the sug of course sucks, but I knew that already. The class, it was fine. It was nice to hear and know I'm doing everything right, my levels after meals are great and that means I don't have to change much. What did suck? I found out I now have to take stupid insulin shots SHOTS. The worst part? My diet and exercise piece is 'PERFECT.' What does that mean? I'm not doing anything wrong to have or change my blood sugar levels. It's my hormones. Thanks, kid. My levels are off in the morning after the 'fast' of the night which means the only solution is to stab myself in the abdomen nightly with insulin. GAH. You know who I feel bad for? Not worse than me, but bad? The nurse that had to tell me this and teach me how to stab myself in the abdomen. Talk about hott tranny mess. Me, not her. Complicating the scene? See number 2. I'm sick AND I got upset so I'm stuffed up AND crying. Sex.Y.
Somewhere in between 1 and 4 I lost ATM card. It certainly isn't surprising, and it wouldn't be the 'biggest deal' if not for the fact that we are moving so I can't have the card sent here. I have to go to the bank itself, get the card sent to another location and get a temporary card in the meantime. Not a big deal, but I can't say that I'm NOT busy this week. Pain in the ass, on simply just my luck. And another thing that no one can help me with.

So I'd like to say to Monday, May 23, 2011, "You can go F yourself."

And to this rapture business, just let me know where I can repent for that statement because for real I can't take more days like yesterday leading up to end O days.

How do YOU feel worse for?

2011-05-22T17:45:00.002-04:00

THE SCENE

The move dates are set. A Wednesday coming soon to a calendar week near us a team will come to pack up our stuff. It sounds glorious to have someone do all the dirty work for you. In reality, it's incredibly frustrating because there is nothing I (or anyone) can do to help the process along or make headway. On a Thursday they take the boxes out and leave us with only our beds. Friday they pick up the beds in the morning and poof. We are done. There will be some minor clean up on aisle Connecticut. Good news? This house is uber small and we have learned from previous mistakes. If I could clean & wrap up things with our last place; this time with a professional moving crew coming with 3 days to get it done? Dreamy. You know if I am optimistic about a situation, it really can't be that bad. The ball & chain will not be around for the bulk of all of this; but he will be there on Friday so we're in business. In fact, we're planning on a movie lunch date and I will be using my Valentine's gift which included a maternity massage (holla) on Friday.

Since the move is initiated by the ball & chain's company the moving process is not only taken care of, but the moving company has to take care of everything. If we get in the way or pack anything we loose our insurance on the move. Basically, if we get in the way, we trip up the process. We (I) have to stay out of the way. I can (and will) be making sure they are labeling the boxes right and not just throwing stuff in the boxes haphazardly, but other than that - hands off. There will be a lot to laugh at, I'm sure - but who do you feel worse for?

THE CONTESTANTS

Image from At a Glance
Graphics store on Etsy

My sanity: Everyone around us - friends, family, even L's friend's parents want to help. It sounds like an easy request, but there is nothing that needs to or can be done. The only thing that needs help? My sanity and patience. I just want this to be over, be there and get settled. The countdown is worse than the move, I tell you what.

Everyday one of us fields a call or email to see what can be done to help. I know each "How can I help?" comes from a good place and we appreciate being as loved as we are, but for real: nothing can be done but wait. Why wouldn't we take people up on their offers? I wish we had something for someone to do. Scratch that, I wish I had something to do! All we can do is wait.

L: Poor kid. On a Wednesday she will leave for school and have a 'normal' house. She will go about her day, having fun at what she doesn't really understand will be her last day at school, ever (ok fine, not ever ever, but this school - ever). She will come home and EVERYTHING will be a box. The next day she will leave her house, full of boxes, and return to empty rooms with the exception of our beds. Side note: what in the what are we going to do that night? Bananas.

The kid is going to stay in school until the Friday of move week. The most important reason is we want her to have consistency (while she can). Everyone has offered to take her, come and hang out with her, set up play dates, and more. The crazy train is about to crash into our little girl's life. We'd like to delay the arrival for as long as possible. The solution? Finish out a week at school. Bonus? It will keep her occupied and me free to work with the packing crew. Which brings me to the final contestant in the 2011 addition of "Who is Doomed?" contest.

The crew: We can't do much to prepare but I can keep the packers (packing team not football team) from throwing random things in boxes and keeping everything well organized up to my OCD ways. They are going to love me. And through it all? No safety net (for the packing team). The ball & chain is traveling. When he is around, he balances my crazy. Alas the moving crew has to deal with me (and pregnant me) all alone. My husband keeps saying he feels SO bad (for me) that I have to do it all alone. Do what? Personally I am concerned about the strangers that are going to do all of the work AND have to deal with me!

Who do YOU feel worse for?

Failing Tests

2011-05-16T12:00:00.001-04:00

Back when I was preggers with L, the nurse at my doctor's office had little hope I would pass my glucose test. Awesome. To review, a glucose test is a routine test you get when you are knocked up. You drink gawd awful flat, warm, thick syrup that is kind of tastes like cola or orange soda. You wait 1 hour and then get your blood taken to see how your body broke down the glucose in the drink. These levels in turn tells medical professionals if you have gestational diabetes. For those that either a) had irregular results with that first test b) Had gestational diabetes your first pregnancies or c) had a big baby (over 9 pounds) you "get" to take the test, for a second time. I didn't fall into any of those first couple of categories, but of course the last one I did - the big baby club. 10 lbs 14.8 ounces. Almost 2 feet tall - thank you very much. I birthed a toddler, for God's sake. Proud of it. Bad news (other than birthing a toddler) is being in the big baby club puts me at risk for gestational diabetes and needing to take another dang hour long glucose test.

Side note: It's important to note, I hate needles. Beyond my hate most people have a terrible time getting blood from me. I apparently have the vein of a child. When I was in the hospital delivering L, they had to call in the pediatric nurses who were used to and trained to set up IVs in children. Of course, the only small thing I get to have is stupid veins.

Glucose test, part two. The day I planned to get the second test I had a weird situation happen. I woke up in the morning and couldn't put any weight on my left leg. I was getting out of bed, as I normally do, super early. Mama can't hold 'it' for a full night's rest. There I am first thing in the AM trying to get to the bathroom with only one leg. I assure you, this was not a pretty sight. At one point I didn't know if I would need to crawl there or if an adult accident was in my near future. The day I woke up without my left leg in full effect I was alone with the kid, had a deadline for a glucose test and needed to get packed and ready for a business trip. If it was safe to go, I would have to get on an airplane. I needed to be ready to go and be able to walk. The details aren't really important other than: in the end, I am fine and overall it was shitty day. It was a totally stressful day, to say the least. I woke up the next morning and after a few hours my leg started to be totally normal. I get it, that's totally whack but I expect nothing else. I figured, if I can walk, I can fly to my business meeting (Dad, my doctor said it was fine). Before I could get on with my plane, I had to go drink some flat, warm, thick syrupy soda.

I took my test and got on the plane. When I landed a message awaited me: "Your test came back irregular which tells us that you likely have gestational diabetes. We'll need to get you scheduled for a three hour glucose test." Most people who get back irregular tests come back for the three hour test and find they are in fact diabetic during the remainder of the pregnancy. Hooray. For the 3 hour test, you get to fast for 13 hours (only water) and stick around the office for 3 hours as they take my blood 4 times. Important to note: I hate needles.

I took the damn test and I failed the damn test. I got stuck with a needle 7 times only to find out this is just the beginning. What's that? Where did I get stuck with a needle 7 times when I said they take blood 4 times? OH that's because a sadistic woman took my blood and had to stick me 3 times to get one good line in at one point. I took the test on a Friday and got a call back on Monday with the 'good' word. In getting confirmation that I need to consult with Diabetes for Life, a great resource in the area (I will be shortly moving away from), I awaited a call to set up an appointment. It took 4 days to be given an appointment with the office so for 4 days I googled my diet and prognosis. Awesome, health care system, awesome.

I knew I'd have to change my diet. Based on what I researched, in some cases, there is finger pricking to check blood sugar. There are fun complications like even BIGGER babies (um. I'm hoping that 'bigger' is in terms of being relative to regular babies not 'bigger' than previous babies carried by mother who has the gestational diabetes). Also in the how is that possible column: additional complications like increased swelling.

Good news / bad news? Good news: I "barely" have gestational diabetes. Seriously, a failed one of the three hour checks by 1 point and another by 2 or 3. If you score over the numbers they need you to be at 2 or more of the 4 level checks, boom. Gestational diabetes. After finding out I had irregular test results that put me within gestational diabetes fun land, I watched what I was eating but didn't make too many changes. What irritates me most about this diagnosis is with this pregnancy I eat 150% better than with L. It wasn't that I planed to eat like crap with her, it was just that crap was all I could eat. This baby loves what I normally love - salad, vegetables, fruit. The baby also loves pasta, Chinese food and burritos. What? It's part my kid... why wouldn't (s)he like all that I like? I missed my ice cream that week, but after minimal diet changes my test results were .2 away from a "normal" pregnant person's levels. The specialist I met with said my diabetes is basically 'negligible.' There will be a slim to none chance of needing insulin since my levels are so close to normal - as long as I stay like that. When the nurse told me I would have to check my sugar levels 4 times a day though? You would have thought she was telling me I was leaving a limb at the office. I cried, laughed, teared through the laughing and cried again. Important to note: I hate needles.

Turns out the checking my levels isn't that bad - the prick doesn't hurt and I've actually been able to eat pretty much normally. Being able to check (when I wake up and 2 hours after each meal) I get to see that I'm fine. Sure with all that's going on, I could stand to not think about how many carbs or sugars I'm about to take in and then remembering to take my blood and record the results 2 hours after eating a meal. But I'm fine, we're fine. I already have swelling, I already birth big babies and lord knows I don't need to go through the next few months on a carbo load. I'm fine.

House Hunters: The Impossible Dream

2011-05-15T17:44:00.000-04:00

I finally feel like we are in a space to give the update on where we hope to hang our hat. That said, be sure to note the following should be filed under: if it didn't happen to me, I wouldn't believe it was true. The week after murphy's law of real estate and our life happened (which was the same week I posted it) we found another house. "We" being relative; the ball & chain did. He took some pictures (but no way to send them) and told me about it. I looked it up online. There were 4 photos of the place but decided to take a leap of faith so we can have a roof over our head. Leap of faith and well damn, I'm not into being without a home. We put in an offer in. You're thinking to yourself, self, I thought they were renting? We are. That's how STL rolls.

We got an email from our agent that says she spoke with the agent of the house. Follow me, won't you? He is the son of the owner - he said based on their conversation his parents will approve us - lease to us. For some reason, they don't ask us for a rental application, as the others have and instead he has our agent draw up a preliminary lease. The owners and agent will review it and send it back to us with signatures. You're thinking too good to be true? Right? That would be because you are missing out a wee little detail. All of this happens on Tuesday. The only "thing" is: he won't be able to get to the lease until Monday. A week away. Maybe now you understand why I didn't feel this story could be told as it was happening. He said he was going out of town... which made sense (I guess) because it was the week of Easter. He's celebrating the resurrection of Christ, can't hate on that? He told our agent "not to worry" and "it will be fine." Um, I'm sorry stranger. A) I didn't realize there was a shotgun rule in real estate. B) Maybe you didn't hear; even when throwing in money, promises, handshakes and applications - we didn't get what we thought we would. You'll excuse me if I do, in fact, worry. Side note: this is the same week tornadoes touched down in STL, a day after the husband left. Story to come on that, but between having no home and our new home town getting some wreckage due to natural disasters - you can assume we were worried.

We wait the obligatory 6 days and on Monday we follow up with our agent. Since the ball & chain is traveling (again) it would be easiest to get us to sign things if we are together. I carefully asked, what's up, without showing my crazy. We get word that they are going to move forward with us. They have applied and been approved for a leasing contract - because apparently where this house is; you need to be approved to lease the house. Please note, no signatures yet and no money exchanged. The "thing" is we won't have the lease until the "end of the week." You're thinking, wait... didn't this part already happen? Turns out the agent wasn't going away last week; he was getting laser eye surgery. There were complications.

You read that right: we are dealing with an agent that now can't see our lease agreement.

I sent an email to our agent saying something to the effect of - "Obviously we'll deal with health issues. We hope he recovers without further complications. That said, is there no one that can help? Do they know we are moving 1/2 across the country? We need to know where we are moving and when quickly. We need to set up the movers, cancel daycare, set up plans for childcare in St. Louis, etc." I did my best to not show all of my crazy, but for real. I get it, he needs to rest his eyes, but we took a leap of faith as it was by not both seeing the house. Waiting on the 'formality' of a contract another week seemed like a little much.

For once, my crazy worked for us. We have a house. They worked it out and got another set of eyes on the lease. Ba-dum-cha, she's here all week folks. Only for another week or so though; for real. We are on the move.

Too Many Monkeys Sleeping In The Bed

2011-05-06T12:45:00.000-04:00

Ok fine, there is one good thing about parenting alone during the week: nights filled with all the space I can handle. Very rarely, when the ball & chain is away, does the kid make her way to our room. I don't know if he just has better hearing than I do and can hear her calling for us? Maybe he sleeps lighter so hears her faster? Maybe when it's just me she gives up? I don't know if she knows Mama don't play that. I don't know what it is. What I do know is when he's away there are only two and a half of us in bed. Me, the baby & my body pillow. Or as the ball & chain refers to her - "the other wife." Ah the space & freedom we have in that lovely bed of ours... me, belly and my blue pillow of wonderful. It's quite a life.

Last night, I went to sleep "alone" with only the comfort of my pillow. This morning I woke up like a fat sardine with my other wife, the baby to be, my kid & husband. Sure - the pillow is a pillow and the kid is a small kid and the baby is still technically part of me- but all of us together in the bed? We are NOT into the family bed situation - if for no other reason but we don't have any dang room.

The kid got up, in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. She got all tangled up in her PJ (dang footie zip ups) and came in to get some help. The husband jumped up like she was on fire and the bed was a bucket of water and threw her in. All she really wanted was to be zipped up; now she knows Daddy is home and there is a spot calling her name in the middle of it all. Zipped up and now snugged in between us, the next 4 hours are filled with tossing and turning and looking forward to next week when I'm all alone in my bed with my other wife. Sigh.

Ah my misguided little hypochondriac...

2011-05-03T20:58:00.001-04:00

"I need to go to the dentist ... my leg hurts." - L

*said January 2011... but keep forgetting to hit POST.

Epilogue

2011-04-28T08:53:00.000-04:00

I have written this follow up and gone back and forth for so long, maybe it isn't necessary. As you'll see in just a second, I can't even help myself but want to clarify.

When I wrote my last post I rethought it a couple of times. I just knew someone might not see it for what it is and take it personally. You know the saying, "go with your gut" - what if your gut can't make up it's damn proverbial mind? My gut said someone (if not several someones) might take it personally, but it also said you write for you so stand by that. Be authentic - even if the authentic you comes off like an angry bitch; so post I did.

It's not you. It's no one person. Most of what I write never is - more of a pile up. Before you take offense to it or personalize it, I invite you to think about it in a different way. You get to hear my thoughts in a way I may not get from you - use that power for good. I would tell you how I feel, if you asked, otherwise it wouldn't be here. It's here because it's happening to me, it's my prospective - my truth. I get to write it out because this here is my space. I love to have you, but only if you are coming here with an open mind and heart; you should not be here to keep tabs or creep. Maybe at first this place was started to keep people posted, but I hope I've been clear this is not what this space is about anymore.

Knowing where I am and where I am coming from should make it easier for you. If you want to know what's going on - ask, but don't be surprised if the answer is 'nothing' or 'I don't know.' Related side note: why is it so hard for people to get me? Dang, I think I'm so easy. Not to mention the cliff notes you get here.

This epilogue goes out to all our friends & family most of all - because I don't want to be misunderstood. To be very clear - we love you - we appreciate you - we know that you want to help. I'm simply asking, if you want to help: be helpful. Understand that our life is beyond crazed right now and it's nothing personal, it's just our reality for right now.

If a visit, call back immediately, email back immediately doesn't happen, it doesn't mean you aren't loved. Life is busy and more than anything, we get that. Loud and clear. I can only hope you do too.

Murphy's Law

2011-04-20T12:11:00.000-04:00

The finale: Maybe you didn't see the preface or the plot - you might need to scan those or pick up here.

Where last we left our superheros, we applied for a house and we were feeling we made the right decision. OK fine, I wasn't sure - but I don't want to play "I told you so" anymore - so whatever, we made the decisions we made and we were thinking it was all set. We applied. The owner said he didn't anticipate any issues & he'd send me final details on Thursday. All day Thursday I pressed refresh on my email despite the fact that my email comes straight to my laptop, computer, phone & iPad. I was up until midnight, refreshing.

A friend of mine told me on Friday morning, when I still hadn't heard anything, if I didn't call him at 10 am, she was going to. It's at this point I want to say: when I say murphy's law is our way of life: if something is going to go wrong, it's going to go wrong to us - I mean it. I really freaking mean it.

9:59 am EST FRIDAY this comes through (not a direct cut & paste some information left out & names altered but 99.9% the original email):

Hi,

I wanted to get back to you about the house. I received your rental application and everything looks great with your application. I do however, have some bad news. My wife and I accepted a last minute, late night sale contract that came through on Wednesday night around 10pm. I had stopped showing the house for sale once I reviewed your application on Monday night. One last agent begged me to let her show the house to her buyers and my wife and I said no until she said that they really serious buyers. So, long story short, they saw it and loved it and wrote an offer and we accepted.

The good news is that the sale may not go through and I will know very soon. They are doing the inspection on Tuesday and I will know by Wednesday if we don't agree on any credits and/or repairs. Either way (if this contract falls through), my wife and I still plan on being out by mid/late May. I understand with your new baby coming along, you want to secure housing asap. If you don't want to wait until next week and need my help with advice on nice areas or houses, I'll be happy to help. Also, I'm always out in different areas with my job--so, if you want me to drive by a house and check out a street for you and your husband, I will try to help.

I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. I did not expect this as my house has been listed for sale since 4/10/10 (just over a year).

Please feel free to call if you would like to talk about anything further or if you have any questions.

Thanks!
Man who breaks hearts

(Insert crazy persons laugh)

I wanted to reply back:

"Thank you so much - no problem I wasn't waiting by my computer yesterday or anything. Also - you are very welcome for the random and last minute offer on the house - you can be assured that the only reason that came through is because yours truly was planning on moving in! All the best, me."

Instead, I replied appropriately - because obviously I am happy for him and his family. I just wish it could have worked out for both of our families. Instead, we are back to square one; that's how we roll. Sure we can hope for some structural damage discovered in an exception, but something tells me that isn't a wise hope either?

Nothing can ever be simple. I need to stop "looking back" at the decisions we made leading up to this whole situation - mostly because I'm sick to my stomach about it anyway. And I know it wasn't meant to be - that said I don't want to hear it anymore. If we hear that one more time I swear to God we'll both explode. Because as much as my head & heart say "it wasn't meant to be" the smart ass part of me says, "OF COURSE this is how this was going to play out - in fact it was meant to be." Why? Because in fact, that IS how things work out for us- the most complicated and convoluted way possible. None of this would really be an issue if there wasn't a clock ticking away. I try not to ask for much, but, I'd really like to have the baby where my husband lives and he is in St. Louis. Based on how far along I am and how comfortable I am with flying I feel like we need to move by June 1st - I need to be in the air by June 1st at the very absolute latest. Nothing says stress like a stressful situation on a tight timeline! What's that? You don't believe it could be any more stressful? Allow me to put that statement to the test!

To add to the fun, we continue to field questions that seem to be simple: when are you moving? Where are you moving? When can we visit? When will we see you again? What's new?

Let me address this all right now:
We don't now. We don't know. We don't know. We don't know. Nothing much, just mayhem, hearts broken, major stress, and holy shittake moments that will last a lifetime.

See? Fun, isn't it? What's that? You want more?

Between our schedules, mostly my husband's, over the course of the next 6 weeks (42 days), one of us will be gone 25 days. If you really want to have fun with math you'll know that's 60% of the next 6 weeks. I'm only gone 5 of those days, but during those 5 days? It's in between him gone 3 days on either side... so that's almost 2 weeks of one of us gone. Yeah, our kid isn't going to have separation issues at all, nah. And you'll excuse me if I don't really know when we're moving, when you can visit, when you will see us again - because you see... I'm kinda busy right now freaking the hell out. And no. NO. You can't help - unless of course you have a knack for making the housing market not a complete and total sht show. Everyone's best move is to stay calm, don't make any sudden movements and for the love of all things holy don't ask me questions we don't know the answer to.

Sophie's choice & house hunters have a baby....

2011-04-18T09:48:00.002-04:00

and that would describe the last week.

The plot: Holy stress balls. You would not believe the week we've had. Oh wait, if you know me or have read this here space for any small amount of time - you will believe it. If you need to know the background? Check out the two neighborhoods we are considering. You back? Great.

A week or so ago the man of the house went to look for a house. Last time he was in charge of apartment hunting we ended up in a cozy (miniature) little place with one closet total. One closet. In. Total. No pantry. No coat closet. No linen closet. One (small) closet in the bedroom. I was prepared this time. While he was on his mission - he had a little bit of me (aka my crazy) with him. This came in the form of a worksheet that he filled out for each house and instructions to take pictures of everything. While he declined a clipboard, he was successful in his mission. He took over 200 pictures of every room, every oddity, every detail and not surprisingly, every closet. Next it was my turn. We went two Thursday's ago and I was wowed. For real. When the ball & chain went the week before last, he said it won't be what I expect. He was right.

Take Kirkwood, for example. In his first visit he let me know it's magical but perhaps not as magical as I think it is. There was, however, magic everywhere. There were a lot of different areas with different pluses and minuses. You know, just when moving half way across the country, pregnant, quickly, wasn't bad enough - let's confuse the situation with places that we would love equally but SO completely different.

Let me say the producers of House Hunters really missed an opportunity. Following us through this process would have made for some good TV. Bottom line. Though at certain points of the story ahead, I was convinced the situation was staged and I was on a new hidden camera show spin off of House Hunters. Punk'd Property © or something. Basically a show (under development after last weekend) where unsuspecting and innocent people search for proprieties and crazy things happen to them - so crazy and unbelievable it must be a hidden camera show!

Mexican Bar

Between the man's first trip and this one we saw an upwards of 20 houses. Some "favorites" were nicknamed. There was animal house (for it's WILD animal print decor), Mexican bar (for it's random basement with random Mexican inspired tile work and a menagerie of random things), and a multitude of houses with 70s Threes Company shag rug looks.They were favorites because they were funny as hell, but not favorite in terms of "hooray we found our place!"

Oh but "hooray" we did.

First, there was Kirkwood in all it's magical glory. 4 bedrooms, a great looking house with a ton of updates and a rent by owner. Meaning we got to meet the owner. He was nice, normal and has kids. This means the house was made for kids. Example? A bedroom two of their children share is painted amazingly perfect colors. Not good enough? How about a secret hiding spot? Behind a tiny door they finished it inside to make a secret play area!! What? You want more? A backyard with a homemade play scape. Amazing. One of the rooms is currently a (perfect) nursery. It will be our office - a room complete with built in shelves around most of the room. We'll have an au pair, for a few months (we hope) and his or her room is big so we could totally make it a bedroom and siting area. The neighborhood was littered with children. Two girls across the street, two next to them, two little boys next to them and right next door to us? A couple with a little bitty baby. Littered with children. Chalk drawings in the driveway and apparently the neighborhood kids come by all the time to play on the swing set. Magical. What's that you say? You want more? My other favorite part is an eat in kitchen area. We would make that side room a playroom area. Kids have a lot of stuff. Here's our thought process: this house has a dining room - we do not need two places to eat. We need one place to eat and another to occupy the children. Children. We are having children. Let's take a moment to freak the hell out, shall we?

It wasn't all neighborhood children and rainbows. The house and neighborhood may or may not be ~~very~~ somewhat close to a four lane "road" which we lovingly called Frogger Lane. I've never seen speeds like we saw there. The Downtown area of Kirkwood was quaint like a New England town but with traffic that would rival Manhattan. I'm not over exaggerating here. If we moved to this house I would never have to make a left out of the street, I will live in rights - only making rights for the rest of my life. Well, by life, I mean the next 18-24 months. Seriously, I can't explain the madness - women in their Suburbans with 3.5 kids in the back talking on their iPhones going the speed limit a cool 60 mph in a residential - I have nightmares about it.

staging hoax

Right after we saw that house, we met with a real estate agent. Our angel. She showed us a bulk of the properties we saw and humored us (OK fine, I'll be honest - me). Before meeting her or seeing the Kirkwood house, there was another house that was almost a contender. While it was always on the top of the list it didn't bring a tear to my eye. Another house did. In UCity, away from Country Grammar and da Loop there was an offshoot of an adorable neighborhood. A wonderful neighborhood and even more wonderful house. Close, perfect, great home, wel - or at least that's what the scrabble board told us when we walked in (right). I'm thinking someone stole the "come" on the wel that is spelled out - we should have seen this as sign number one: crime-ridden. The set up was perfect, there were jet tubs, a sun room off of the master bedroom (best office - ever) with an outdoor patio overlooking the HUGE fenced in back yard. Brand new kitchen, tons O rooms, everyone would have their own bedroom. Amazing. Some downsides looked to be we might have to buy a refrigerator, public schools were apparently terrible and private school will need to be must and it might be too close to da Loop which by day would be great, but at night might be dicey. Just as tears began to fall because we may have found the one, we left and saw as if on queue to our right walked a guy our age with a big friendly dog and to our left a couple with an orange stroller and an adorable baby. This might be it.

Sure the schools are 'eh' and safety may or may not be a concern. Later that night after dinner, we came out from the restaurant and I may or may not have felt that we were both going to be mugged and bludgeoned to death in the parking lot.... but in the daylight? I had fun.

After we saw the house, we wanted to apply for it. It was Friday afternoon at that point and we were the 5th application; the owner was going to keep it open all weekend. Smart bastard listed the house low so of course the interest would come flying in. In putting in our application and in the flurry of the excitement (this was before feeling like we were going to be mugged after dinner) we put in an offer we thought (s)he wouldn't refuse (said in Godfather creepy way). We raised the monthly rent substantially, offered to pay the finders fee that usually falls on the owner (1 month of now raised rent), didn't require him/her to supply a washer or dryer, and starting the lease period on April 15. Our real estate agent wrote a letter on our behalf and suggested we offer to make the leasing period 18 months, instead of 12 months to show our commitment. We said fine. We put the offer in and waited the weekend to hear back, while we (I) obsessed over the Kirkwood house wondering would we regret not going for the suburban home that was made for children? After dinner that night I continued to ~~freak out~~ talk about it. We talked about it all waking hours for the next 48 hours. What if we waited for UCity and we got rejected? By the time we called Kirkwood it was already rented? What if we got UCity, but had finally made the decision that we wanted to in fact go to Kirkwood and now it wasn't available? Were we making the right decision? What is the right decision? What if we moved to UCity and got mugged? What if 3 months down the road I say, I knew it? What if the landlord comes back and asks for more money? What if we go to Kirkwood and I can never make a left out of a road again? Will I be okay living in rights? "Living in Rights," oh, maybe I could rename my blog that? Does that make me sound like I'm conservative? What about school, do we make a decision based solely on kindergarten next year? What if we make the wrong decision for L? For the love, what is the right decision?

At one point on Saturday, our real estate agent called to check in. She read an email I wrote in a panic, second guessing if we should wait until Sunday to hear back. She called to calm me, but got more than she bargained for. At a certain point in the conversation, as we discussed all that were doing to get this apartment I may or may not have said: "I just feel like we are bending over to this guy, for what?" I think it's at this point the husband re-thought he choice of me in a life partner. His face dropped. I'm fairly sure the people of STL don't talk like this, at least our real estate agent isn't used to it. We got off the phone and the conversation when like this:

Me: "Do you think Suze is hates me now? I'm going crazy."
Him: "Um. I mean the good news is she probably didn't understand what you were saying. But yeah, you did show your crazy. You need to relax."

2 days of the back and forth - super fun.There were tears, screaming, frustration, laughing - (some) good times had by all. Finally on Sunday we got the call from our real estate agent. We had made it to the top 3; I felt like I was on American Idol. The landlord would choose us, as we were the best candidates... if we signed a lease for 2 years like the other applicants offered to do. Alternatively he would take 22 months. We said we'd stay at 18 months. If we signed 22 or 24 the ball & chain would be transferred in 18 months. If we don't sign it - we'll be there for 22 months - it's how we roll. The landlord declined and we decided to walk away feeling that we were bending over a lot and if we ever needed anything fixed or addressed we'd have to negotiate our brand new baby or something. I knew I'd say "I knew I should have gone with my gut" and no body wants that; mostly my husband. In an ideal world I said the day before, we'd be rejected from UCity so that we'd KNOW that Kirkwood was the right choice - and here it was just what I wanted. We contacted Kirkwood and asked if the house was still available.

It was! The house had been on the market to sell for over a year - he was going to have one more open house that night (Sunday) but if nothing came from it and he didn't think it would - he would move forward with the rental application with us. He seemed genuinely excited to rent his home to another young family. Skip around, this was IT! I tried to skip, but wouldn't you know? That feeling of random doom & gloom feeling didn't go away. Until someone took a deposit check I wasn't going to feel ok.

Ah stupid woman's intuition.

Neighborhood Watch(ing)

2011-04-16T10:35:00.000-04:00

Preface: I'm not a huge fan of cliff hangers, especially because this story isn't really going to wow you. You'll likely say, "DANG girl. Pull it together." Obviously, I have the move on my mind. I want to tell you what the deal is, but there is some background information you need to understand before you will get the next part. This here is the foundation of the next part of the story.

I told you, people are nicer in the Midwest. In reaching out to people, all kinds of suggestions and thoughts of areas to live came flying at us like stay west, never south. Try areas like: University City, Central West End, South City, Kirkwood, Webster Grove, Brentwood, Clayton, Ladue, Parkway West - another language all together if you ask me. We looked into all of them and that's when I fell in love.

SWOON.

We first set our sites on Kirkwood, MO - what I began to refer to as Magic Town. Why? It is magical! Community feel. Downtown area - shops, bars, restaurants, tons of activities for young families, I'm liking it. See for yourself: the Kirkwood website makes me want to skip. If you click over, there are different pictures of the area, events, etc. Picture 4 (featured to the right) looks like children looking for a lost child. Perhaps a search pattern or something? It's not. Just them looking for honeysuckle trees...which just happens to be one of my favorite childhood smells, EVER. We had a honeysuckle tree in our backyard growing up. This place has so many that they need a search party to gather the extras? Yes, please! It also has a community pool which boasts a lazy river, beach pool, lap pool, kid pool and events planned through out the summer. I hadn't heard of a community pool growing up, perhaps an episode of The Wonder Years - but not in person. When we moved to the town we are in now, we were taken by this concept. We loved our pool last summer, but a lazy river and scheduled events we did not have. OH GLORIOUS. The parks? I don't have pictures of the parks we saw but the bottom line is you haven't seen a park until you've seen a park in Magic Town. End. Of. Story. Kirkwood is a suburb of St. Louis. We are in tje suburbs now and don't tell anyone, but I LOVE IT. LOVE. I don't miss the city or living near a city at anytime. Nope. Allegedly I live near a city now, but this one doesn't count. NYC or Boston? Those are real cities. I love them both, but I don't miss living in a city, at all. I didn't know, when we left Boston I was glad to leave, but the truth is - PEACE OUT CUB SCOUT! I'm a suburban girl, it turns out. City living is for the young whipper snappers.

Just when I think I know what I want, BAM.

University City. It was like Hoboken (NJ), Brooklyn (NY) & the South End (MA) had a baby (what can I tell you - I'm making a baby). Cute little neighborhoods, gorgeous brick houses with a ton of character. Close to the Loop - which is a six block area with more than 140 specialty shops, eclectic restaurants, galleries and live entertainment (says the website) = Fun. Fun. Fun. I loved it. Next door to UCity is Clayton, a desirable neighborhood - great school system. All the neighborhoods are built around elementary schools - so you walk the kids to school which for some reason I am a sucker for. I kind of put both these areas in the same pot, despite being slightly (or very) different in terms of schools & price. They too had a community pool (not as kick ass), a great community fitness center, and all kinds of people. It is super close to the main areas of St. Louis but far enough to be neighborhoods with their own character. Just love. One might say, the best of both worlds.

Those are the two areas we are focusing on. More on the hunt, later.

Intermission: Last Friday, in the middle of House Hunt 2011, we went to Blueberry Hill for dinner. It's a landmark restaurant (great burgers, wings and the best damn house salad dressing I have ever had. EVER.) filled with pop culture memorabilia. Memorabilia including but not limited to album jacket covers of a local celebrity, Nelly. He's from the STL. We learned that night that his debut studio album was Country Grammar. I'm not sure why, but I thought the phrase Country Grammar was hilarious. I googled it today as I prepared to write this post and found the video of the song. I remember the song, but at the time it had no significance to me. Now? Now, this here is going to be my baby's hometown. Country. Grammar.

The Travel Adventures of The Amazingly Weird Guarros

2011-04-14T11:33:00.001-04:00

Filed under:
"Why didn't I think about that?"

This last week, we took this show on the road and went for a quick, focused trip to the STL. Our new home to be can't be unless we have a home to be in. Yup. We left the kid with NanaLu & Uncle Ricky to attend family parties and work the crowd and off we went. Ah the things we saw, the places we'd go.

First on the sites scene checklist? Simply put: the best invention ever. A hoody sweatshirt with a pocket for your hands & a beer. God bless America, and we hadn't even gotten to the birthplace of Bud Light yet - this was in our (current) home state of Connecticut. From the CT we were off to STL with a 'quick stop' in Chicago. Oh but wait, I forgot - me traveling comes with it some complications.

Complication one: delayed flight. Complication two: a husband that may need to hit the bottle to fly... ah cold glass of beer how I miss thee. Complication three: suitcase busted.

With 30 minutes to spare we (I) thought fast and sent my ~~inebriated~~ calm husband to find a bag while I tried to repack his bag. Funny enough I did not over pack and he did so it probably wasn't going to end well. Luckily he did find another bag to purchase and we were back in business. The reaction of the airport staff was pretty shocking. I thought it was reasonable to ask for help in getting rid of a suitcase, instead they looked at me like I was asking where the pool was cause I was thinking of a quick skinny dip.

Abandoned suitcase? NO problem

Me: "Hi! My suitcase broke, what should I do with it?"
Airport staff 1: "Huh?" Looks over at airport staff 2 confused.
Airport staff 2: "What's wrong?" (Clearly annoyed I'm asking a question. Can't I see they are busy standing there doing nothing?)

Me: "My suitcase zipper, it broke. I'm just wondering where I should put my suitcase now."
Airport staff 3: (snaps teeth) "Throw it out."Me: "I'm sorry, I just thought... shouldn't someone be alerted of a stray suitcase left out? Won't that be alarming?"
Airport staff 2: "Just throw it out." (snaps teeth)
Me: "Ok, I just figured - for security purposes someone should know?"
Airport staff 2: "Just throw it out, in the garbage."

You know "If You See Something, Say Something?"Apparently if you say something you just get your teeth snapped at you. I left my suitcase by the trashcan open so it was as clear as it could be that it wasn't an abandon weapon. It took hours to get there with a long and delayed layover in the windy city of Chicago, but once we arrived we were welcomed by awesomeness. I was cranky. All the traveling, all the baby to carry, no beverages or the beer persuasion to drink but then, then STL showed me a glimmer of their magic. Our rental car. Ladies & gentlemen, I give you the Cube.

We laughed all week. We were there from Thursday through Saturday and despite ~~major~~ some stress, ~~ridiculous~~ decisions and ~~crazy~~ expected curve balls. We also had a laugh until your stomach aches and your face hurts pains. Despite not getting what we thought we would from the trip, we had a great time. We missed our little girl and we're excited for our adventure ahead. I know, what DID happen for the 3 days that we were there. Stay tuned.

Emotional finale and possible pregnancy hormone induced mush: I'm not only excited for the STL but I'm excited for the whole thing - life ahead and all that. My husband, my baby's daddy, my boo boo whatever you want to call him - he's simply the best. Without him the kind of fun we had would not be possible. He heart's home work & Hello Kitty and I heart him. End of story tee-hee-hee.

STL Surprises

2011-04-12T10:22:00.007-04:00

We know nothing about St. Louis. In fact, the week we found out about the possibility of a relocation, we got our facts from RLTV. Retirement Living Television - apparently that is real thing. Google it. Don't believe me? I took a picture of the program we watched. It's about retired people who bring you on a tour of where they grew up. Yup. The good ol'Gateway to the West.

Of course we have some friends that have helped to point the way, but it's one thing to hear about it and watch it on the good ol' sound & picture box - and another thing to go there; experience it.

I. Loved. It.
The people are nice. Not TOO nice or overwhelming sugary sweet - just nice freaking people.
The neighborhoods are distinct, different and each have their own personality.
STL does have good Italian food. I know. I'm surprised. It's in a neighborhood called "The Hill."
The Hill is really just a slight incline with Italian flags marking territory and a boot shaped flower bed. Genius.
The food is delish. Fresh produce? Everywhere. Well seasoned chicken, juicy delicious burgers, salad dressing that I can't even describe. I could go on. I can't; I'm getting hungry (again).
Holy hotness Batman, it was 80 the whole time. Super spring hotness.
The rental market is kill.er.

The ball & chain tried to tell me some of this, he said I'd be pleasantly surprised - but frankly I thought he was looking at it all glass half full. Cheery & positive, in addition to his sense of humor and his killer cooking it's kind of what he's known for. You know what? He was right. I was totally surprised, beyond. And yes I told him that; just this once he wins.

Proof: My family thinks my husband got a raw deal.

2011-04-11T10:21:00.002-04:00

I have said before I am fairly sure my family loves my husband more than me. Maybe love is a strong word, perhaps it's best to say - they like him (much) better.

Exhibit A:
Me: "Hey Nanny! How are you? It's been so long since we've seen you!!" (Genuinely happy to see my grandmother.)

Nanny: "Your daughter is so nice. She takes after the father."

Me: "That's nice. She's a great kid." (Trying to move past that out of nowhere sucker punch and rethinking my excitement.)
Nanny: "Yes, she is very nice. Like the father."

Exhibit B:

The scene - the ball & chain and I were kidding, albeit in poor taste, that he was getting so aggravated with me he might slap me silly. Like I said, totally poor taste.

Ball&Chain: "If I hit your sister, would you turn a blind eye?"
Brother: (pauses) "Sure."
NanaLu: "What'd she do?"

Your baby is the size of a squash and your body is the size of squash patch = AWESOME

2011-04-06T09:09:00.000-04:00

Every week, I look forward to the weird emails that tell me how far along I am and what is happening with the baby. Recently I discovered a similar timeline with similarly weird information provided all the while comparing the baby to a fruit or vegetable. The better news is they have a tracker for your body! Look what I found out, not only is the baby going to be the size of a spaghetti squash but I'm going to be shrinking. I was so excited I wrote the editors of the publication & website.

Dear Editor,

I am so excited to see this update. I'll be 23 weeks in a few days and my body will look like this?! I just hope the instruction manual is easier to read than a baby bouncy seat's how to manual.

I had no idea all I had to do was get knocked up to get that body. This is gonna be awesome.

Love,

*Please note, I am aware it's not this fine website's fault I look like I'm 42 weeks pregger. This is a joke meant in fun. If you are into real life writing, reviews, information, etc - Babble is the place to be I just disagree that this is "my body" this week. I wish.