Every time we have a three day weekend, I'm always like why isn't this like, a law?


But seriously, I don't want to be all kinds of "now that I'm a mom...new lease on life... understand the meaning....blah blah blah.....". But, that's kind of true.

On Saturday, I was pushing my baby in his stroller along the beach and he's cooing at everyone who walks by like a freaking movie and smiling at his cousins like he's been waiting his whole life to hang out with them. Also, he recently learned to clap and even though he has no idea why he's doing it, it's really cute. The suns out, it's 70 degrees, we're eating ice cream, cruising the pier with our family. And the obvious thing is that I looked around thought "this is what it's all about."

Because it is, right? What's more important than spending time with our kids and family?

But then I had this dismal raincloud of a thought about how much of a bummer it is that these moments are such a glimmer. The fact that these things happen maybe a handful of times a year because I'm so wrapped up in doing things that only barely matter, just suggests to me that I'm doing it all wrong.

I can't change a culture that makes a life out of chasing money, but I sure can change myself and I feel like maybe I had a watershed moment this weekend. Maybe the first one ever.

***

Moving right along from those life changing, priority switching, more ice cream and Saturday morning watersheds, let's talk enjoying, because we did a lot of that too.

We spent the weekend at Ryan's family's cottage in Frankfort with a full house, a handful of dogs, and  a few cases of shandy.

1.) The beach and a pineapple hat that he doesn't even mind. And also pretending it's not that cold.


 2.) Cousins. It's all he's got, and if he doesn't learn to sleep, it's all he's ever gonna have. #onlychildforever

I've got a four month baby update queued up and fifty percent written, so we'll catch up on how much my infant does not sleep these days (and nights!), but for now I'm going to skip that. I'm only acknowledging it early on so you understand the magic that is currently happening -- he's taking a nap.  Hallelujah.

He sure is precious though, isn't he?

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Sooooo, last weekend was a party. Remember when I mentioned that we were renting a cottage as a fam and power-packing it with everyone for a two day bender of cards against humanity and too much food? Well, kick in some Dance Dance Revolution and we're in business.




***

I'm a little sad, thinking about the future and how few opportunities there will be down the road to continue these get togethers. Most of the kiddos are grown up, venturing into college and spending their holidays doing their own thing. There's the obvious family stuff too -- disagreements that are either taken too seriously or too far, depending on who you ask. And distance, physical and otherwise.

If I could bottle this good part of our lives up and preserve it, I would. The parts where everyone is young and healthy. When we all have time enough to spare to dedicate one weekend to building and maintaining our relationships and just enjoying each other. The early part, when we're all scooched in close around a tiny coffee table with Trivial Pursuit cards laying on the floor, and a baby who just wants to eat the pie shaped game pieces. The middle part, when we're all tripping each other and jumping over couch cushions to eat some of whatever Luanne is pulling out of the oven. The late part, when there's Moscow Mules minus the copper cups (we ain't fancy) and simultaneous games of poker and cards against humanity, two separate tables, two separate games, that don't stop us from shouting across the room and laughing together. The best part, when Ryan is explaining to his big sister what some of those CAH cards mean, and she bursts out laughing "why is there even a word for that?!"

That's the stuff that I want. And I want it so badly for my son. If I could wrap it up and put a big bow on top, I would. And I'd give it to him year after year.





Last holiday post until next year -- I promise.

Happy Sunday, you guys!

So September is officially the fastest month of my life. In my past life, I would be all kinds of pumpkin spice latte-ing and swatching my fall nail polish colors. Now I'm just trying to find a sweatshirt that fits and doesn't have barf on it. Two quick things I learned this month:

• The newborn phase is a haze of eat when you can, shower when you can -- and the real question, do you really need to? -- and never ever again take for granted the use of both hands.
• And that the phrase "whoever said they sleep like a baby probably doesn't have one" is so real and so accurate. I will never again use that phrase unless I mean you woke up seventeen times, were a little fussy, and needed some milk to fall back to sleep.

PS- he was still Duke Ryan when I made this board, pre-delivery.

It's been a wild month over here. And I can't believe my baby is already almost two weeks old. I have a feeling this is how the entire rest of my life is going to go though -- wondering how my baby got so old every day.

Anyway, we have established a bit of a routine over here, which I acknowledge is pretty damn fragile. Because it's ultimately based on how the baby sleeps and some days, he knocks my socks off. Other days, he knocks me off my rocker.

Funny story, and a true story: my doctor expressly told me that I could drink up to (2) cups of regular coffee. He gave me some numerical half life value of caffeine and I rolled with it because A.) it's convenient and B.) hello - he's smarter than me. And I took that to mean any old time and proceeded to put down a cup at about 6pm. Then I fed the baby, made some pumpkin bread, cleaned the kitchen and played some Johnny Cash, all the while reminding Ryan what a good housewife I could make.

I fed the baby you guys. FED the baby. He indulged in that nighttime caffeine and I swear to you, no joke, proceeded to "sleep" in 10 minute increments all night long. I had a several come-to-Jesus moments that night.

That said, on a normal, decaffeinated night, he'll sleep pretty decently. Wakes up around midnight, 2am and then not until 6am. If he goes back to sleep, I'll go downstairs, drink some decaf (!), clean up the kitchen and start my day. If he stays awake, I'll take him with me and do the same thing, except with one hand.



The dogs add another fun ingredient to the dynamic. This is my circus and those are my monkeys, you know? Everyone's cool with the baby, but George is really really really interested in him. Ralph doesn't even know we brought someone home, Jack doesn't really care, but George -- he's all up in the baby's face 100% of the day. The circus part comes in because I actually have to care for these monkeys and they kind of require some attention. Attention so they don't run away or poop in the crazy neighbors yard. So they don't eat food off the kitchen stove, or lick Duke's face off (you know who I mean). Ralph hopped right in the river a few days ago and started to float away. I mean, the party just never slows down.



Anyway, let's go for a quick round of other fun facts to wrap this up:

• I'm breastfeeding and so far, so good. I really prepared myself for it to be difficult because I read a lot about it before Duke was born and it can be tougher than you'd think. I got really lucky with this one and so far, it's been easy. It's a trade -- remember the nausea I had for the first trimester? This is what I get in return. 
• The only downside to breastfeeding is when Duke starts to flip out and needs to eat right.effing.now -- in the middle of Target. After I delivered, I thought I had no shame or dignity left, but I do actually, and the line is drawn at pulling off my shirt in public. I'm still trying to navigate this "plan accordingly" part of being a mom. 
• I decided to start reading to Dukers right away because he seems to like the sound of my voice (really!) and I want him to have a badass vocabulary starting immediately. It's hilarious when kids use big words and I like to laugh a lot + I want him to be smart. Anyway, here's my dilemna -- do I start with the Harry Potter series because I want him to have an inherent knowledge of it -- or do I skip it because I don't want to steal the joy of discovering it when he's 12-ish?
• I've lost a quick 25lbs - hallelujah! Now 25 more to go. 
• My hormones are still out of control. Last night, Ry and I watched Of Mice and Men and (spoiler alert, I guess, if you never cliff-noted this in high school) -- when Candy's dog gets put down, I cried harder than Duke when he's starving at 2am. Could not control the tears. 

You guys, Friday nights are the hardest for me to give up on. I will keep myself awake for as long as I can, because you know, once you go to sleep, it's over Fifty First Dates style. And Friday is the best best best part of the weekend. Everything is still alive -- the weekend is still in front of you, there's all kinds of promise lingering there -- it's as good as Saturday night, but with the promise that Saturday is still coming.

Last night was extra hard for me to call it a day, because -- obviously. Fridays before 3-day weekends are even better than regular Fridays -- is there a song about this? If I were a different kind of person, I might write a poem, an ode rather, to the mystical 3-day weekend. Anyway, three-quarters of Ryan's sibs showed up last night and with a bonfire and a beach and some ice cream, it's no accident that I didn't drag my drunk husband to bed until 2am.

Friday kicked the weekend nicely:





With every single fiber of my being, I know that this is true: this is what life is about. There's a lot of menial things we do in the meantime, but there is nothing more important than spending time and cultivating our families. That sounds a little cult-y, like building your family to power pack the kingdom of Heaven, like on Big Love, but whatever. I'm not even attempting to buy a one-way ticket into everlasting life, just a happy one right now. And so, bring on the dogs, the kids, the grandmas, the drinks, the tunes we don't agree on and throw in a bonfire and s'mores for good measure. There's your one-way ticket -- it's stamped and you're good to go on the happy train.

How far along? 29 weeks -- in this update. I'm behind, but you know, whatever.
Total weight gain: A lot.  I saw this random rant on the internet about how women who use contouring makeup look like clowns and spend too much time in the mirror, and I just thought, "that chick has never been knocked up." Girl, we need contouring, just to prove we still have cheek bones. Cheers to bronzing powder -- I'm about five minutes from contouring my arms, calves and if I could reach 'em, feet. Just to remind myself what bone structure looks like. 
Maternity clothes? Well yeah, but that orange dress, so not maternity and I'm really pushing my limits with that one. 
Stretch marks? Nope. I'm so surprised. I know that these kinds of things are genetic and my sisters have stretch marks, so I've just been waiting for them. Obviously I'm not out of the woods yet, but I can't believe I haven't seen a stray one here or there. 
Sleep: Like a rock. Seriously, I'm just out all the time, wherever there's a slightly comfortable spot. If it rained and I put a movie on a loop, I bet I could sleep all day long, and then crash out at night too.
Best moment this week: Having Ry's family here for the holiday is just the best. 
Miss Anything? Well, let me preface really quickly with this: if there is a next baby, he'll be born in the winter because I am DONE with leg shaving. I'm officially shaving my legs via muscle memory, which is super dangerous, and what I'm missing right now is the ability to see and reach anything south of my navel. 
Movement: Tons, all the time. And here's a new one, sometimes when he kicks, I can feel a little foot -- or something, I guess. Tiny little appendages. 
Food cravings: I don't think I really crave anything, but I did pass my glucose test this week, so candy is back on the menu. 
Anything making you queasy or sick: Speaking of the glucose test, I was crazy nauseated the morning of, and already just feeling ready to blow (yum!) when I got into the office. So they give you this orange drink that the internet preaches is disgusting because it's flat and crazy sugary -- blah blah blah. So anyway, the nurse hands it to me, tells me to chug it down, and she presents it like this: "If you puke it up, you'll have to drink it again." Luckily, sweet is my jam and it tasted pretty much okay to me, so everything stayed in place. 
Labor Signs: Nah. 
Symptoms: Charley horses that better count as a work out, because these muscles are SORE. I had one in my clutch foot a couple of days ago, and for a full day, my entire leg wobbled when I pushed the clutch in. Yikes.
Belly Button in or out? Out. It's obscene, I think. I mean, we all know that if you see nipples through a shirt, you're bordering on soft-core, but I'm not sure if belly buttons are somehow exempt. I might put a bandaid on it.
Wedding rings on or off? So off.
Happy or Moody most of the time: I'm not really an emotional basket case, but I'm still really prone to easy irritation. Maybe this is who I was meant to be my whole life, and pregnancy just wore off the Emily Post my mom tried to instill. We'll never know.
Looking forward to: The countdown. I mentioned to Ryan last night that I'll be full term in less than seven weeks. The conversation went a little like this:

Me: Ry -- our baby could be here in seven weeks. Seven! (add some creative nagging about finishing the trim in the baby's room)
Ryan: Seven? Are you sure? That's really soon.....shit. This is real. It felt like just an idea until right now. Seven weeks? I need to go on a motorcycle trip.

***

Happy Friday 2.0, you guys!

Merry Christmas!

Isn't it crazy how quickly the season just blitzes by and suddenly it's all over? Well, sort of. I'll be recovering from an eggnog coma for the next week, and probably still eating kit-kats for breakfast until the stocking is empty.

And in the spirit of Christmas past, I am making like Clark Griswold all locked up in the attic with nothing but good memories and an ugly hat. Let's roll this slide show, titled Christmas 2005-right this friggin' minute.









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Feeling so much magic today and wishing you the merriest Christmas ever!

You guys, we're only a handful of days into December, and I've already got a Christmas on the books.  To be honest, we had this one wrapped up, bow-tied, unwrapped, and the wrapping paper in the garbage before November 30th. How's that for efficiency, eh?

It seems that for us, December is a little on the busy side. Just about nothing worked for all parties except the weekend of Thanksgiving. So we got our turkey on, and then a few days later, broke into the presents. Basically every kid's dream came true. Christmas came early this year.


I always want to make Christmas into this magical thing, swirling with just the right kind of snow and bright twinkling lights and a hundred advent calendars filled with cheap chocolate. I mean, it's not -- except that advent calendar bit, I always get one of those -- but it is a whole lot of other good things. I think I've come to terms that the holidays are just never going to be what they were circa 1992 when I had important things like American Girls and Tickle Me Elmos to look forward to, but that doesn't negate the very real, very good things about Christmas circa right now.

Things like mimosas and enchiladas on the Christmas menu.
That's champagne you guys. Ryan is chugging champagne. Much classy.
And like my clever in-laws who always find a new way to give the kids cash for Christmas. Me included. 



And you guys -- things like BeanBoozled.

So here's the fix: you buy this box of jellybeans in which case there are two beans that look identical. One is something normal, like coconut. If you get that one, you go glen-coco. But the other one is something completely and totally disgusting, like say baby wipes.

It's a very real risk in every bite. So we played. Obviously.



 And if you're curious -- that's Sebastian delightfully munching on a barf flavored bean. Cheerful, no?

 ****

I digress, onto other good things. Albeit slightly less funny, but much more snugly. You know my favorites: small awesomes.




Um, hello? Did you know that they're still making Babysitter Club books?! Except now they're graphic novels. Be still my Claudia loving heart!

Full disclosure -- I still have my BSC books. I have glossy, semi-vignetty plans to bond with my future daughters over these books. They defined my tween-hood and I'll be damned if I don't have conversations someday along the lines of "so, do you feel more like a MaryAnn or a Dawn? I've always been a little bit of a Stacey, myself."







Ah, siblings. True magic.





And finally, I leave you with this:

I swear I take this photo at every Hodges' event. It's the part where my mother-in-law says "I'm not going to cry this year."

So I grab my camera, because she's about to cry.



Don't freak out -- it's a good cry.

Cheers to the holiday season folks. May the mimosas be strong and the music be cheery. Over here, Ryan and I are singing "Alllllll I want for Christmas is youuuu-hooooo" -- it's a song to our new house, but I'll save that update for another time.