Coal {of} mine

Since (almost) last I wrote here, there were just sonogram photos I thought I would share his announcement. 

His arrival has been oh so very exciting for oh so many reasons. It's been over 3 months. It feels like we've known him forever and yet I can't believe how fast these months have gone, even when it feels like it's going slow. If that makes any kind of sense.  

To follow (our web friendly*) birth announcement. The front side is fairly traditional in terms of what information is provided. 

Side note: Why the hat?  Short(ish)** story: when he was born and we announced his birth we weren't I wasn't 100% on the name. 

It went a little like this: 

I posted the first picture 4 hours after he was born. I had hoped we would come to a decision before we posted anything, but word on the street (texts) was that it had been leaked. The baby was born, that he was a he & how (very) much he weighed. It does sound of so very Kimye, doesn't it? I mean, sure, I don't take naked selfies and the ball & chain doesn't talk about himself in the third person - but there were people scooping us on our own son's birth before we were ready.  (In hindsight I probably could have used another celebrity couple. Cause now you are thinking, wait? Does she have a sex tape? Does he hate on Taylor Swift? And other terrible things about the couple I chose. But you know what I mean, right? I digress...)

Since it was on an instant message circuit I figured, I'll deal with the stress of not knowing (for sure) the name. I didn't want anyone to hear that he was born and we were still silent. If it were me? My mind would go to something possibly being wrong, and it hadn't.

Baby BOY G. He's here. And he means business. 11lbs. 10oz. 22 inches.
and no name other than "oh my god" & "he's HUGE!"

And when I finally got myself together, a day later:

Name official: Coleman Bennett > nickname: Coal. Or Moose.
Or "yes. I know how big he is." #whatsmymotherlovinname

The moose comment was strictly random. I threw it in: an animal, known for it's size to make fun of a situation that was stressful (you'll see a watered down version of why to follow). And it stuck. And it makes me smile. 

The back was a (very necessary) FAQ because holy hell were there questions asked frequently (edited for the world wide web). And because I know this might come up (surprisingly so): 

• No, we don't spell his name C-o-a-l.
• Yes, sometimes I do call him Coals. 
• No, not after the store either. 

A closer look of the back: 

Q: What took you so long to name him?

A: Coals was always "the" name. We had other name options: 6 for girls, 3 for boys.  I always feared without having options, the baby could be nameless if he or she didn't look like "the" name. You could announce the baby's birth but then not the name. And no one liked that! There would be phone calls asking, "when will we know the name???" Nurses coming in every few hours asking "And... who is this???" Messaging asking, "Do you know the name yet?" or "What about now?" or "What about now, do you know now?"  With both girls, we looked at them and knew.

When our doctor said "Oooh Bubba!" and we were officially shown our son we went into shock. A baby boy! My shock lasted longer than the ball&chain's and Bubba or Baby Boy Guarro was nameless. In addition to being shocked he was a boy, did he look like a Coals?  The ball&chain always knew he was our Coleman, but I wasn't sure.  He could have been a Coals or a Ben. He could have been a Jack, Gus, or Tony (insert a full day of revisiting 7-10 name books).  I finally caught up with the ball&chain and Coleman was officially named.

Q: Where did the name come from?

A: Coleman is my maiden name.  Bennett means blessed, and we are blessed to have Coals join us. His initials are CBG, the ball&chain's initials are CBG.  Elle's initials are Nana Lu's and JJ's initials are Poppa's (Guarro).

Q: Wait. Coleman? Isn't that a last name?

A: Yes. Last name for a first name, with the exception of the fact that Coleman is actually a first name.  We typically call him Coal vs. his full name. We'll reserve that for when he's in trouble, like everyone else.

Q: Did you know he would be this big? Did you break any hospital records?

A: No & not that we know of. We knew he was big, but no not this big. We were told by countless hospital staff, nurses and doctors it's the biggest baby they had seen all day / week / month / year or career - but no official word on record breaking. He broke our record, good enough for us.

Q: Can you believe it?

A: No, I don't believe it. It was certainly a déjà vu moment to be in yet another operating room and have the entire staff mouth or say "Oooh my G O D! He is HUGE!"  

Q: Was it a c-section?

A: What kind of question is that?  Yes.

Q: Were your other babies as big?

A: Yes & no. Elle was 10 lbs 14.8 oz and 22.25 inches. That's where the déjà vu of "Oh my GO D! She's HUGE!" comes in. JJ was 7 lbs 6 oz 20.25 inches.

Q: How are the girls?

A: Amazing, they love their little brother something fierce. Elle is so grateful to get her wish - a baby brother. JJ loves her baby, very much. Both are more loving than one heart can handle.

Q: How does it feel to be outnumbered?

A: Controlled chaos is still chaos. For example, family photos? We are going with majority rules to measure success. If most people are looking and almost smiling? It's printable.  We don't anticipate any peace, any time soon. But it's wonderful, all the same. A chaotic wonderful. We are happy, feel blessed & beyond lucky. With a health side of "what did we get ourselves into" & a deep appreciation for sleep.

*I updated some of the details / names / references it isn't the exact image word for word.

**Fine, it wasn't a short story & could have been shorter. 

An open letter to our friends & family out East: Blown out of proportion

Dear You,

I get it. Tornadoes are scary. If you think tornado warnings or watches are scary you should experience a thunder storm here. It's like nothing you have ever experienced. It is intense. It's crazy town. What one person experiences in my neighborhood, 5 minutes down the road will experience differently. And then? In an instant it's quiet. Like creepy, eye of the storm quiet. The skies light up, the earth shakes with thunder. My grown husband will wake up in the middle of the night and honestly ask the question, "Should we get the kids?"

Not kids crawling in our bed, scared. Reasonable. A grown man, wanting to crawl into bed with the children.

It's wild.

Why are tornado warnings or watches not quite as scary? Because tornadoes are not actually happening in the immediate area when you get a warning or a watch.

When you see "tornado watch" on the TV - don't bother worrying. Why? Because STL should be on a constant tornado watch status. Why? Because all it actually means when it is issued is the weather conditions are favorable for severe thunderstorms to produce tornadoes in and close to the watch area.  Every time it storms here, that's going to happen, it turns out. Welcome to Tornado Alley. It can (and does) happen here. That's why they named it an alley. Frankly, it should have been "Tornado Main Street" but whatever; semantics.

A tornado warning is when an alert issued by government weather services to warn that severe thunderstorms capable of spawning tornadoes may be imminent. It is likely a tornado is indicated by radar or sighted by storm spotters. Still, not a for sure, but more likely. If you are going to worry - I'd say this would be the only time to slightly concerned. And even not all that much.

Some facts to be aware of:

• St. Louis, the county, which is what is named in weather alerts is 524 square miles.
• St. Louis (city) is actually 66.2 square miles. 
• Where we actually live is in a suburb within St. Louis city which is 5.9 square miles.
• St. Louis (county) will be in almost every tornado watch or warning that you see, because now that we are here that's all you'll see. 
• Tornadoes come here. They will come through our town and may very likely hit our neighborhood or even our house. 
• We are prepared, we are no heroes - when we hear an alarm we will go to our designated bunker and be OK.
• When a tornado rips through another state or another city that is not St. Louis - I have no idea what the tornado was like because we didn't have one. We live in 5.9 area of a 524 square mile area that didn't get hit by a tornado.

Seriously - when there is wild weather 10+ hours away from you? DO I call panicked?  Do I sit and stew and wonder - will you make it? Absolutely not. You are 10 hours away.
 
Pull it together. Calm yourself. You have your own health & well being to care about instead of putting yourself into a tizzy about us - hundreds of miles away from natural disasters and prepared for the inevitable.

Love,
The Twisted Guarros of Tornado Alley

Merry MERRY

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.

Ending 2011 with the WORST Idea Ever

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.

A Different Kind of Holiday

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. 

Magical Holidays

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?

Family Time & Time Served

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!

March to the Beat: Homegirl's First Parade

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.

I carried a watermelon.

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.

Too Many Monkeys Sleeping In The Bed

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.

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

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?"

Wouldn't you want to join this family?

Sorry for the radio silence, all will be explained shortly. Before I do... I'm updating an application. We are going to look into having an au pair join our family. I'm looking for pictures to add to our application to show a little bit more about us. I'm adding this... if you were a young person, 18 - 26 you would want to join this crew? RIGHT?

Dreamy Christmas - Wrap Up

So where last we left our holiday heroes we were enjoying the look of Christmas magic. 

I have to be honest, homegirl made out.  Among other things, she got just what she needed like fantastic outfits from Nana Lu, just what she wanted like Rudolph the Red Nosed Dang Reindeer from her MyUncleChris and super fun snow globe light up Frosty’s from Uncle Ricky. Of which a few days deep she has almost drained the batteries.  Nana Lu told me about this video, the kid who got books and called NO FAIR on Christmas past.  Want to know just one of the reasons I love my kid? She got books too – and before she wanted to open the rest of her presents she wanted to stop and read them. How cool is she?  You get books for Christmas, in her mind. 

Last year, in pursuit for the best holiday card ever, 2009, I purchased some footie pajamas.  Adult sized. Unfortunately the ball & chain and I were not our most svelte so they didn’t fit at all right.  The good news is, this year they fit perfectly.  I picked up some complimenting pajamas for the rest of our house guests and the result? Christmas. Magic.

After present overload we sat around, sipped on some mimosas and freed some of the toys from their treacherous shackles and awaited the next wave of arrivals!  

Seriously: Elves, Santa, toy manufactures worldwide…. what is UP with the packaging? Are you preparing the toys for serious earthquake survival? I mean forget about the who environmental impact of all that plastic, twist ties reinforced with tape, wire and sticky glue – what about the cost for these materials? The aggravation alone – I would pay MORE to be able to buy toys that don’t require a toolbox and bone cutting scissors to free the toy.

Grammy & Pa Pa arrived and present giving and receiving take 2 took place with only 1 causality caused by poor labeling.  Continuing the legacy (from a few hours earlier), everyone got spoiled and L walked away with some serious booty. A favorite of mine? A nativity scene - made by Melissa & Doug. We have a Christmas tree, we even have a menorah... but a nativity set? We didn't. It's perfect!  Not to mention, Belle & matching movie - L was in heaven.

Fun fact? Grammy & Poppa and Uncle Ricky both bought us wines inspired by the love of my summer sipper. Looky looky. Blogging brings additional benefits! 

The day progressed with fun, relaxation, delish food (thanks to the talented ball & chain) and some more relaxing. It was a pretty perfect day. I was right, what can I say? Holidays at home ARE the way to go. Since it was our first year home, we eased into it all.  Next year we'll most likely pare down the Christmas Take 2, etc but the holidays at home are here to stay. 

The day after Christmas we were scheduled to go to the ball & chain's brother's house. While I know how much L loves her cousin time, I'm not going to lie. We got hit with a blizzard and I couldn't be happier.  Thus the beginning of this post (posted yesterday)... started during the storm, 1 week ago (at this point). We watched movies, played in the snow, drank hot chocolate with mash-a-mellows and enjoyed the aftermath. All house guests made a run for the boarder first thing in the morning to avoid the snow and while the time with the fam was nice - again, not going to lie - to have the house to ourselves was fantastic. 

On Tuesday (12/28) we had Christmas Part Two - with Poppa & Cami. More love, more celebrations, more eating, more PRESENTS. L got a Dora (thanks God now all her Christmas wishes came true).  Then on Wednesday, Christmas Part Three (see what I mean, lots of takes to this fine holiday). We headed to Nana Lu's to spend time with (great) aunts, Nona & (second) cousins. Basically it was rest, travel, rest, travel. Having as much family as we do is a lucky thing. Not all being down the street? Inconvenient.  This upcoming weekend we'll go to Albany - part birthday party, part Christmas Part Four, would have been Two if not for the blizzard. THEN finally, Christmas is over, until next time. Aren't you exhausted? Wait, is it just me? We're on delay over here at Chez Guarro - thus the Christmas post finally gracing the pages as of 1.2.2011 - what does this mean for the 2011 wrap up? Dang. Perhaps it will be worth the wait? Unlikely. I am pretty sure I still owe two or three months worth of pictures, a video of our tree trimming and a wrap up from our trip abroad? Maybe 2011 will be more orderly?!

Here's to hoping!

Dreamy Christmas - Introduction(ish)

Oh happiness. Christmas miracles of Christmas miracles. Let me set the scene. This post started, to date of my completion and re-read the 26^th of December. Keep that in mind, based on the publish date; whenever that might end up being.  As I go through, I realize this bad boy has to be in two parts (Hooray, two posts taken care of! CHECK!) That’s how busy we’ve been or been busy relaxing in-between the next ‘course’ of family visits.  OK, now back the 26^th… this feels like virtual time travel.

We are gleefully sitting on our couch.  Snugged up, candles burning & kid napping.  Christmas amazing. I am typing from my wireless keyboard to my iPad. Oh yes.

Wireless. iPad  Maybe it’s just me, but those two words feel like porn might to those that well, like the porn.  You get the picture (though now I’m not sure what kind of picture you are getting).

I'm sipping an ice cold drink from A Christmas Story glass and we are snowed in.  Oh yes we are. This is truly the best Christmas eva. We've had a house full of love, celebration, relaxation and Christmas magic for days.  It wouldn't be a family gathering with out a little yelling (it's how we communicate) a touch of cussing and a few minutes of aggravation.  If it was missing any of these components we would have been at someone else’s house - likely other people all together. Despite the plan to stay home and not travel, we got (mostly) that.  Traditions began and our home was the meeting place for the holidays, for the first time ever. Though I think we hosted an Easter a bit back, when we were in Boston. This was very different.

Nana Lu & Uncle Ricky arrived Christmas Eve, quickly followed by MyUncleChris. The first tradition we introduced was having a relaxing and stress free dinner. I highly suggest it.  Basically, you don't make dinner at all. Who doesn't like appetizers? We noshed through the night, watched Christmas movies and set up for Santa. Milk & cookies (that L helped to make & decorate) for the big man and carrots for his ride. Magically wonderful.

Christmas morning the kid woke up at the reasonable time of 7am.  Not bad. She ran to the living room to see that Nana Lu wasn't there, as she expected. She was out walking the dog, to prepare for the reveal. I asked her, "Where do you think Nana Lu is?"

 
Quite seriously she responded, "Maybe she's with Santa or somethin?"

Santa delivered many a present to our good little girl. Some might say he went overboard, but I would maintain that he found some serious deals. The good news?  He also got the wrapping done early.  The bad news? Only a few presents turned up with out a label. What's the worst that could happen? They must all be for the kid of the house? Right?

L's first present she opened knowing Santa Claus had picked them just for her was.... (drum roll please):

A pair of oven mitts. Perhaps meant for her father... maybe, maybe not.

 

About three presents deep, she was done.  Not done as in, no more presents to open.  Done as in, she was all set with the whole thing.  I can't be sure, but after prodding and (honestly) bribery, she finally got through her goodies from Santa. Including endless coloring books, play dough and other random tchotchke Santa had been saving since he went to BlogHer.  A paint set, additions to her dollhouse, markers and crayons, oh my. Barbie & her horse and some alternative clothes to change her up in.  Side note: Barbie dresses pretty loose if you ask me. Since Santa figured Barbie might need a Ken, the right thing to do would be to make sure Barbie got the right kind of Ken... like an Edward instead. Oh yes I he did.

Picture compliments of MyUncleChris who promptly posted this pic and the following caption on Facebook: "Ken is not allowed in my sister's house so Belle gets Edward for a date this christmas."

With the opening of a bike helmet, we thought it would be clear that a bike was "somewhere" under the pile... like the largest present front and center of the fireplace, under a bike sized bag. Oh boy - she doesn't have the finding gene of her father.  Did you know he once found a contact in a swimming pool? True. Story.

Also a true story? It took her about a half hour to figure out that the giant bike sized bag contained a bike.  I didn’t get too many pictures from the morning, but I did get this one – this is the exact moment she screamed, “I FOUND MY BIKE-A-KLE!”

I leave you with the look of Christmas magic .. to be continued...

Holiday Traditions- The Tree Hunt

This year was our second annual trip to Geer Tree Farms. Last year the tradition began, and I am fairly sure it will be on the agenda for years to come.  The scenery is breath taking and despite being true city folk in our heart - we like the hunt of the tree. 

Geer Tree Farm

And while we aren't huge fans of having to cut a tree down with a saw, luckily we had a visit from BoBo who hit the tree with chain saw.  He knows us well, we had our pictures so why sweat it out?

BoBo getting the tree down & ready to go in seconds vs. our saw workout.

Measuring the tree - want to make sure it's tall enough, but not TOO tall!

On the hunt

L helping.

L & her buddy - he's serious business

Having fun with Liza while the tree gets wrapped & ready to go!

Family Photo - PRE Tree

Another GUnit tradition that continued this year was the tree trimming. We had visitors, ate and was merry. The tree got lit up and the ball & chain got LIT. Daddy may have hit the wine a bit too hard there was some ricochet, but all survived with minimal after affects the next day. I'm working on a little video on how that all went, but the indecisive girl in me, can't decide on a tune. You'll have to stay tuned for that. The result of our hard work (and many bottles of wine that met their maker?) is a perfectly decorated tree. If we could have the tree all year long, I'm pretty sure I would. 

Happy Holidays are HERE!

Family Photo - Post Tree Trimming

Festivals are NOT for the Weak

My guy lived in the North End for the year we courted. I was in NY and he was in Boston. Unlike the gaggle of twenty something people I know I never called the North End home – but it was close enough having the soon-to-be ball & chain residing in the 02113 there.  He would complain about the smell, the crowds, the festivals, the tourists – the whole lot of the experience did nothing for me. He once lived in an old school apartment where they had to use the oven as a heat source and in another stint he lived on the 78th* floor up a stairway to heaven. No. Thank. You. Walk up? I think not. My cap is 3rd floor.

Being apart of the neighborhood you would think he would have attended the long anticipated yearly St. Anthony’s Feast.  This poorly planned festival boasts fresh off the boat Italino cuisine, carnie games & many a worship shrine to tack dollars to in hopes your wishes come true. What isn’t on the bill? The crowds of people. I’m talking swarms. I’d be afraid for lives lost if the crew from the Jersey Shore showed up for one of their many bar crawls ending in a bar brawl. 

Nothing says "St. Anthony's Feast" like a GTL Muscle Tank

Despite having t-shirt & souvenir booths dedicated to them they didn’t show up this year. You know who did? 

The Guarros: in full effect. We thought it’d be a grand idea to walk through this weekend.  I had to work this weekend, in the corporate office of the company I work for (in Boston) – and for the first time in for as long as I can remember I’d have a room to myself so since we haven’t all been together at any given weekend clip over the last few monthS, why not bring them along?  That was a good idea.

Bad idea? Bring a toddler through the hott mess of St. Anthony Festival in the North End.

Period.

I tweeted and emailed a few peeps on what to do – I got a few suggestions to head to the North End. More than a few people were DEAD WRONG. I think I replied something to the effect that I loved a little chaos from time to time, why not?

Why not? Well, self of a few days ago, I'm glad you asked.  Chaos with an almost 3 year old is not only dangerous but damn it’s frustrating and you’re angry enough for funnel cake’s sake. We walked from the hotel we were staying in and upon arriving we were hesitant. Let this be another lesson for you folks, go with your gut.  

After being essentially trampled for yet another food booth and pushed in front of while driving a PLAIN AS sight ORANGE stroller we made our escape. The good news was restaurants on the outskirts of the festival were ghost towns so we were able to have a kick ass meal with out the wait you’ll usually find on a weekend night. To pry the kid out of the restaurant quietly at 9 pm we went to our go to parenting standby: ice cream.**  Upon hitting the streets in search for the dairy goodness I think L got her nationalities mixed up.

“ICECREAM? VAMANOS MOM. Let’s GO!” – L by way of Dora. 

Thanks Dora. More on our walk home and the integration of her love for Dora, later.

*Exaggeration, reality was maybe 6? It felt like more. 

**Please note – we are well aware of the fact that before we were married, before we had our kid we looked at parents who had their kids out in the dark, never mind after 9pm. So judge away – onlooker. Suck it. Also – suck it if you are judging over the bribery go to. It works. You don’t mess with things that work. And IF you are one of those Mary Poplins parents that don’t implore any of these tactics – good for you. Big friggin deal.