My Dodo

Did you know a "dodo" was a dad of daughters only? This is the rumor we hear - and I love it. And I love my dodo. Hard. And my girls? My girls are so freaking lucky. And I am lucky for my girls, for me. I mean, it's Father's Day and he is insisting on changing our stink ass little girl's diaper. I mean? It doesn't get much better than that, folks.

My dodo is difficult to compare to. He's everything to us. To me. To them. He's the kind of man they will know is possible, the kind of partner a girl can have. There, 100%. And I don't know how many of there of him there are out there.

My wish for my girls: find a partner.

As I type this, here is what my surrounds are like: 

• I'm in the living room watching TV that is inappropriate for children. CSI something or another. Blood, violence: not your Saturday morning cartoons. 
• The kids are screaming, crying and whining in the kitchen. 
• Their dad is taking care of it. Making breakfast, dealing with the aforementioned screaming, crying and whining. 
• I'm drinking coffee. Tuning it out, typing this. 

It's the weekend, and so starts our routine. We take turns waking up with the kids. I got up with the kids, this morning. We watched a movie & snuggled on the couch. As goes with our sleep patterns, since the ball & chain fell asleep a little after 9 - when he slept in to 9:30, he got more than an allotted and suggested 8 hours. Refreshed, he came down stairs and started making breakfast for the kids.

• He just came in and asked if I wanted a homemade pancake. 

We take turns in most areas. Though we have our roles and what we are good at - and we take the lead in those areas. He loves to cook, so dinner? He owns. I help clean up, but to be honest he is crazy about keeping the kitchen clean so he takes the lead. We typically take turns dealing with bath time. In the ways of balance, I make out in the dinner & bath routine. We use our powers (and obsessions) for good.

When it times to do a massive house clean, we take our areas. I'm the living room & dining room girl. He's the kitchen, bathroom & bedroom. He's obsessed. I don't fight it. Plus if I'm being honest, he doesn't clean the living room like his OCD kitchen cleaning self.

• He just came in, and delivered my pancake. Time out. 
• Time in. That was delicious. 

We are in the process of planning a vacation. He booked the main details (where, when, flights, hotels). I take care of the day to day plans. I worry about any organization to the lead up: packing, planning. I go over board: there are spreadsheets, outfit planning for the kids, supplies to acquire. I'm on it. Holidays? With the exception of a gift or two - I take the lead. I have lists, I shop sales, I work out shipping (when I don't forget), I get the deals - keep us under budget - which we don't actually have. But I keep us reasonable.

When the kids wake up at night, whoever wakes up first usually takes them in. It's typically him, mostly because he's a light sleeper. When we have babies, if I'm on maternity leave - I get them. With the exception of the weekend. Then, we take turns. Most times he insists on going for it. And never, not once, does he keep score.

Never, not once, will he bring up that he's washing dishes right now. He's likely going to take one or both of the kids to the gym with him at some point, this morning. To leave me in silence. I might clean up. I might not, I might continue to watch TV. It's hard to say.

I will end up brushing L's hair 9 times out of 10 over him. Because while no matter who does it - it's painful- it doesn't get me as frustrated as it does him.  Never, not once, will I care the snarl mayhem falls on me.

I deal with doctors appointments, school stuff, activities - in terms of sign up. The games or practices? He's in.  Something breaks, falls, needs to be hung - all me.

We need to move, and this happens often. I'm the details girl: coordinating, planning, tracking, planning (yea I meant to put that twice), new schools / classes / camps, new doctors, new everything? Me. Unpacking? Both of us.  Making the house a home? We both bring that... but I take credit for the design of said home. 

I'll never understand how single parents do it. Bottom line, but (almost) more than that? When it comes to parents who are together and one isn't involved? It's a major unsolved mystery. I quite honestly don't know how it's done. To have another able body in the house who doesn't participate?  I know I'm one of the lucky(iest) ones. I know that men like my ball&chain aren't the norm. I know that most every day, at least once a day, I am grateful to be the exception to the rule.

I want for my children to be happy & healthy. Forever. Beyond that? I want them to find a partner. I want them to be the exception to the rule. Whoever their partner may be, I wish for them to find a true partner.  One who they balance out with, because any other life would be unimaginable to me.  I may be one of the lucky(iest) ones, but I need them to have this. I need them to know it's possible.

I hope what "they" say is true, by growing up - seeing this reality - that they will know it's out there for them. I just hope they find it.

7 minutes in heaven or 15 on a shuttle bus

8 years ago, a week or so ago (the 30th) I was hours deep into a crush and realization that a guy who always been one of my favorite people could perhaps be my most favorite person, ever. Wink. I've told the long story, but the good part, the really good part, is always the first part. 

8 years ago our mutual friends were getting hitched. Side note on those birds? They were friends in high school and found each other in a new light years later. Secretly crushing, for what possibly could be years. Just like us. Secretly crushing, until the right moment.  

Our right moment was at the wedding.

Standard wedding table photo, with a side of love blooming.

Lee and her betrothed got married over Memorial Day weekend in 2004. The wedding weekend was amazing. Fun. It was the group of friends you know you will slip right into the best time ever, either way. It was was a time in our life when we weren't inundated by weddings, when they were the most fun.  A reunion. Word on the street was Christoph was coming to the wedding. He was a mutual friend of the group that guaranteed the best time, ever. We always had the best time together.  When I heard he was coming, I knew it would be a good time. 


We spent the weekend together, as we were part of a few not needed for the day to day wedding party responsibilities.  As anticipated, it was a good time. We laughed, all weekend. Best. Time. Ever. When we hung out? We had the kinds of laughs where your face hurt. Serious injury of fun.

And I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but at some point through out the weekend - I knew. I knew there was something there. Like a magical something. We were at a wedding, so there was fun. There was dancing, there was drinking, there was an open bar and I don't want to blame it on the a a a a a alcohol, but I can't say it didn't help.


There was this moment, on the way home. This special, open bar induced moment, that no one is sure who initiated, but we kissed. Really kissed.  And then the next thing we knew, we were thrown out of the moment to hear an audience. "Guarro & Coleman (our nicknames) are making out!" Dare I say, this was bigger news than the wedding itself.

Who needs your eyes open to see love?

We made out a bit more, once we got back to the hotel. Totally classy. First base and nothing else, though we tried to hide in a bush or something thinking that would help the paparazzi.There is more to our love story, but not worth telling - because not much out does making out in the back of a shuttle bus.


And that, my friends, is how we found each other.


Best damn wedding ever. Best damn love story ever. Best damn guy.

Elf on the (what now?)

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.

Sometimes being caught with your pants down is a win.

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.

Before the snake escaped... Bronx Zoo memories

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

Daddy IS going to be SO surprised! (lie)

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:

The Travel Adventures of The Amazingly Weird Guarros

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.

Simple Love, Simply Love

It's strange. I have 300 pictures of Halloween this year.  Most have are bright, awesome colors, shots that chronicle everything: frowns, smiles, laughing, running, readjusting dresses and I hear a wedge pick or two. There are props (a first) for god sake. I put it to music I loved them all so much I couldn't bare to part with any.

I keep coming back to this picture. In the darkness you can see how she is looking at her Daddy knowing just how lucky she is. We are.

I Believe in Magic

I have a magic ice tea elf in my house.  I drink ice tea, sometimes I drink all of it.  I'm thirsty. I could make some more, my hands are not broken. The truth of the matter is whenever I make ice tea it just isn't the same. It punishes us all.

Here is how it works.  I leave an empty pitcher on the counter, walk away.  POOF.  Ice tea is made and in the fridge moments later.

It's reason 3,589,436 I love my husband and I am lucky to have him. It's also just another reason to post Halloween pictures which, if you haven't noticed, I'm obsessed with.
 

Baby's Daddy

I write about how much I love my ball and chain.  There are too many reasons, I know. I'm lucky. I was once the luckiest girl in the world. 

That was until our baby girl came about.  Now she wears the Luckiest Girl crown.

She loves her Daddy, who wouldn't. He's the first person she asks for in the morning and the last person she wants to kiss before she goes to be bed.  Sure, sometimes when she is calling out for her daddy it sounds a wee bit like beckoning (slash severe orders from a cranky drill Sargent). You can see it in every look she gives him. 

They are alike in so many ways. Not just the fact that she looks like him.  If he were an albino, blue eyed, blond hair, adorable little girl.  They are both hilarious, smart, cleaners (she puts her clothes in the hamper, with out fail), kind... just incredible people.  And L is just getting started.  Maybe I am the luckiest girl in the world, after all. I get them both. 

I just hope she doesn't get my procrastination, because this my friends was my Happy Father's Day post.

Think about it.

Daddy & L

Yeah she does.

First Father's Day - June 2008

Twinny TWIN Twins

Away We Go

For years C & I have talked being Euro bound. I think he just wants to have the opportunity to say "Hey look kids, there's Big Ben, and there's Parliament."  Whatever the reason - we have been talking about London & Amsterdam forever.  For.Eva. Every time we think we have time to go - we don't. Each time we think we should go, we can't - every Christmas we say we should have, could have but never do. Flights are best in the summer but I have never approached time off in the summer, over the last 7 years.  I mean most people do, but me. I don't have kids with the summer break, and it just never seems to be a priority.  Usually, truth be told, I don't take all of my vacation time. I actually have pretty fantastic vacation time with the company I work with.  Due to the time I've been with the company it seems like I have so much vacation it'd be impossible to take it all - not that I even try.  The only time I did use up all of my vacation time was when L came along, thank you paid maternity leave. God bless you.   It's horrid and a habit that I believe is hereditary (thanks, Dad).  I hope that it doesn't get passed down to my offspring.  Among other things... like my "temper", misunderstood sense of humor (which is often perceived as a temper), (lack of) athletic abilities or (lack of) patience. I digress ... this year we are trying something different. We are doing it. Finally and away we go.

C's birthday is close to mine - he comes first and I had some big plans - not huge but big.  Around that time Abelle was in the hospital and we had Disney coming up.   C was pretty specific, he asked that I not go crazy - and let's keep it responsible.  I didn't go forward with the second part of my gift and on his birthday I led in with 3 t-shirts and an arm band for his iPod.  Responsible. There it is. What do I get for my efforts?

A combo birthday baby mama gift came my way.  Amsterdam. Holl.ER.  Seriously? Really? How's that iPod arm band looking now. I might as well have come bearing a card that said "Smile, this is your gift."  Of course I feel horrible, but that was short lived with extreme excitement!  F it. It's not like C isn't going to be coming - he'll have fun so how bad should I feel?

We looked into confirming flights, we figured we'd take a few days on either side of a weekend - 4 / 5 days away. The more we looked into it the more it made sense to stay a week.  I got approval for the time off and BOOM we booked it DanO. As we skipping around the house in celebration of our European adventure we thought about it - 7 days in The Netherlands sounds glorious but we were just going to Amsterdam - sure there are gardens, museums, canals, clubs (you know me and clubbin... get your glow sticks out it's trance time - this here is my sense of humor, FYI.), the Red Light District, bars & coffee shops... oh and then there are "coffee" shops - but 7 days? Might be much.  What's a girl to do? Look into making dreams come true.  BooYah - London here we come! "Hey look kids, there's Big Ben, and there's Parliament." P.S. it doesn't hurt that flights are bloody cheap.

We booked it and now it's all about planning. We won't go in blind like we did for Disney, we'll be planning every day to make sure we get the most of our time - because this is it.  Probably our final adults only vacation for quite some time.  Post summer we'll have to start thinking about procreation again... I can't keep avoiding it's about that time.

SFO : A Picture Book (with words)

Real Love

I thought my feelings for my ball & chain can best be described by the legendary Mary J. Until I read the lyrics - turns out it's not really about real love... just not finding it. What's the 411, hun? What's the 411.

I found it. Real Love.

On one hand there are lots of reasons for the whys - but on the other there is only one reason. He is who he is. Not one reason to point to, truly, just him. I mean I guess the most important reason is he puts up with my crazy ass - but how he does it is so unassuming I can't help but be in awe with him almost everyday.

Example, you ask? Example I have.

Last week - or the week before - time is blending. I was putting the baby to bed. Saying my good nights and telling her I missed her already and would see her soon... Sunday night (it was Wednesday night at this point and I was shipping off to Beantown in the morning). As we left the room, I was carefully reminded (informed) that I wouldn't be back on Sunday - I had a meeting on Monday - and had to be back that night for his meeting on Tuesday.

I had forgotten. Again. Of course. Typically.

It turns out I was able to leave Monday after meetings and there was not a need to sleep over. After 5 days - just he and L; I was greeted with homemade chicken & vegetable soup in a spotless home. I was also sick as a D O G all week and couldn't have been happier with the delish soup. How lucky am I?

I texted a friend saying "If ever we didn't realize that C is perfection? Just came home. Homemade chicken soup. With a sht ton of veggies. I am in love."

Response: "If he divorces your ass. He's mine."

From my cold dead hands, woman.

It's not just crazy good food, the ability to make sense of my hurricane like ways around the house or amazing baby daddy skills. It's the patience of a saint.

The following morning (Tuesday) as I was saying goodbye to him... saying, "See you tonight!"

"What? I'm gone until Thursday night!!! Good lord. Good luck!"

I had forgotten. Again. Of course. Typically.

Anyway, long story short. Man am I one lucky B. Poor guy, though? HUH? Having to deal with this mess?

Dirty 30

Last week I turned the dirty thirty. The whole thing was overwhelming. C had a mini melt down when it was his turn to enter decade three, however for me it could have come and gone and I wouldn't have noticed. If not for my wonderful baby's daddy and friends. Pretty incredible.

So many stories to tell... we'll start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.

Saturday Jez came out to play, ex-pat and currently living in Switzerland she was here for the weekend. We spent the afternoon with the babe, getting in some QT. We took a walk, dressed the kid in an outfit she gave her (which is basically something that she probably owns herself), it was grand. L loves her some Aunt Jezebelle. They played with her make up, dress up she was in girly girl heaven (L & Jez). We had to scoot to Cambridge. Jez invited me to a friend of hers engagement party - C & I were tagging along but we never get to see her so I figured what about tagging along to another celebration? We walked into the bar and as we approached we saw WC who wasn't scheduled to make an appearance but since he and his woman are friends with the groom & groom to be I didn't think anything of it. That was until the masses screamed, "SURPRISE!!"

I screamed right back in their faces. Hard! I screamed and then cried to see all the faces there to celebrate little with me. Oh and when I saw my homegirl LG, I nearly lost my mind. Her and her dapper hus all matchy matchy probably afraid that after a trip to the big bad city they would loose each other with out some kind of way to find each other. Ah my darling friends. I cried my little eyes out and had the very best night a girl could have.

And then Monday happened. I came into work. Really overwhelming - my team made a calendar that covered an outside of an office - of May... 31 days in May and 31 reasons they love me. SO nice. Most of the reasons they love me include embarrassing facts, but whatever. It was glorious. They also blew up an embarrassing picture of me and put all kinds of random old lady stuff... Depends, pill boxes, magnifying glasses, all over my desk. Crazy. Weird. But love them.

I was so amazed I couldn't help but what? Cry.

And then this happens...

Sent: Monday, May 04, 2009 8:53 AM
Subject: PLEASE READ: Important feedback required

Hey Jenn,
First of all, Happy Birthday!
Second - I’m working on this video project for Susan and I need to get the first draft to her today. I would really like your opinion if you could just take a few minutes to watch it, I would really really appreciate it. Sound is required. Special Project
Thanks!
MMay

I laughed and then I cried and then I laughed and I cried. I mean, sure the video was kind of like a memorial and I may have died, but who gets to see what people think of you (a crying bud light drinking manager who sings inappropriate songs and tells b's to fly)? It was the most amazing birthday. Ever. I anticipated a cupcake or two and a card - but I couldn't have ever imagine this kind of birthday. I was weepy for most of the week, truth be told. It was all overwhelming and all so amazing.

I have kick ass friends and family. A kick ass baby's daddy. A kick ass life. Dirty 30 feels pretty damn good.

addiction: check

Be careful what you wish for. I recently got C hooked into Facebook. Good news: he finally can see the fun. Bad news: I haven't seen my computer for days.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]

Holy Mother of GOD

How do I heart my husband? Let me count the ways...

Just in case it has to be said, of course he and our family will always rank at number 1 & 2 but the iPhone that Santa bought me is a close 3rd!

Dear babygirl,

I wonder sometimes if you look around and think – remember when. I know later on and soon you won’t remember when you were this little but right now, do you remember when you were ittybitty? I look at video or pictures and I can hardly believe it’s you.

One night, when we were all in the hospital one of the first nights after you were born at right around the very same time it hit us what was happening. When we went to visit you and we wanted to hold you, at the very least just touch you and we knew we wanted to talk to you – for you to hear us and for us to hear you. It was when you wore earmuffs to block out the noise - even though we couldn't even whisper. The blinds were always pulled and the only light came from the blips on the screens. There is one night I remember so clearly – it hit us at the same time that there was a very real possibility we wouldn’t know you.

We wouldn’t know that your favorite fruit is blueberries or that you hum "mmmm" when you really like something you are eating. We wouldn’t get to find out that your mullet would turn into blonde curls or that your eyes would be blue. You laugh when we dance crazy, your favorite time of the day is bath time, you would be enamored Elmo or how you tug on your hair when you start to get sleepy or that I would be able to calm you by just holding you. We would never hear you squeel when we play fetch with Abelle or the pup would easily gain the freshman 15 in your first year.

It was the same night after going into visit you and the NICU nurse told us that there had been an “incident.” Your vitals fell and you almost followed that light. The night your grandparents continued to be not see through their inability to let us be parents. The night we broke down and let it all sink in. You were not in the NiCU anything ‘routine’ – you were there and in the ‘sick’ room – with the sickest of the sick babies. The most delicate. Children born months before they were ready, some less than 3 pounds, most with long term potential problems weren't in that room. You were the ‘sickest’.

That night I lay in my hospital bed next to your dad who was on the cot next to me. We held hands in the darkness and looked up at the ceiling – room 13. We both felt the emptiness of the room. With out saying a word or even looking at each other I know that we felt the same things. It's that night we thought might never know you. It's that night I remember feeling overwhelmed with the potential of loss and the awe-inspiring love - the kind that people talk about but you never know until someone like you comes into your life.

It’s funny what you remember – it’s all in the past now and there are new things to worry about but sometimes when I sit in the darkness and I can’t sleep as I look up at the ceiling and look over at your dad. I think about that night and how absolutely empty we were, yet full of fear. Now I look to my other side and look in on you – first with the video monitor but on many nights so close to you I’m sure I'll wake you. And if you would, I’d scoop you up and thank you for coming back to us.

Happy Birthday Llybelly. Love you much. Love you always.
Momma

1 year

It's been one year since I started this site - one year of updates, complaining, photo montages, random tidbits, explaining and venting. I've learned a lot this past year - about myself, about my baby's daddy, it's actually too much to summarize. Some important high lights include:

1. Having a baby ain't pretty, but it sure is worth it.
   
2. It's way more entertaining to complain then it is to update.
   
3. Lucky for me I have less to complain about, unlucky for you all it's all good in the hood.
4. Knowing that this isn't just thoughts on a page, but thoughts on a page that people read is high pressure. How do people do it daily?
   
5. Being preggers in the summer is poorly planned.
   
6. Moms wear mom jeans cause they get a mom ass and only mom jeans fit mom asses.
   
7. Moms who don't get mom asses are el diablo.
8. There isn't enough time in the day.
9. If I had the ability to know who was reading this - I might have more to say. Censoring is a mother.
   
10. I am one lucky biotch.
    

My Husband Kicks Your Husbands Ass.

Why? Let me count the ways...

1. Does yours make you laugh till you have an adult accident?
2. Cause mine gave me the cutest stinkin baby that ever was born.
3. My man doesn't even BLINK when I take off for weekends at a time or in the evening just to have some alone time.
4. He laughs at most of my jokes and listens (or appears to be) to all of my stories.
5. He signs his emails "Your #1 Husband" or "Your baby's daddy."
6. He makes a sauce that won't quit.
7. Ironing relaxes him.
8. He sings through the whining - and this kid can whine.
   
9. When I'm freaking - he remains calm and usually funny.
10. Does yours send you flowers for no reason? And not even run of the mill flowers - but some serious arrangements that would make Martha Stewart blush. Mine does.