Jun 28, 2017 | Friends & Fun, It's all relative, Uncategorized |
Monday we went to the zoo with Mom, Grandma and Joanna. I liked that the adult/child ration was so high. Every so often when we’re out with other adults I forget I’m the one who’s supposed to know where Annabelle is at all times. (Don’t act like you’ve never momentarily lost your child. I know I’m not the only one.) One of these days I’ll remember I’m the parent in our relationship.
Two years ago we visit this zoo and fed the goats. Annabelle and her superb memory have never forgotten. She LOVES goats and seeing her with them is like watching long lost loved ones be reunited.
Everyone’s first thought upon seeing the goats was “look how pregnant they are! It must be twins.” They had huge stomachs and waddled around like a 10 month pregnant woman. There was a sign across from the pen that said “NO, the goats are NOT pregnant.” They can hold between 3-6 gallons of food in the stomachs which leads to their bloated look. For the one millionth time I’m glad I’m not a goat.
This sign made me roll my eyes. “Don’t climb on the zoo fence. If you fall, animals could eat you and that would make them sick.” I’m more concerned about not being eaten FOR MY SAKE not the animals, but that’s just me.
Four generations of meerkats.
Long arms and round ears run in the family.
Jan 17, 2017 | It's all relative, North loving, southern living, What's going on |
I’m glad I didn’t broadcast my intentions to blog more this year because the month is halfway done I’m only dusting off the old keyboard for the second time.
(We’re already off to a bad start. I dropped my memory card and had to go searching for it under the couch. Someone tell the maid to vacuum under there!)
Before we left Massachusetts we celebrated Grandma’s birthday. We all brought a food Grandma likes and I made a batch of her beloved liverwurst sandwiches. I’d be happy to share the detailed recipe.
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| This photo is currently being submitted to the Horrible Food Photography of America magazine. |
Annabelle was front and center during the gift opening. I kept telling her the gifts were for Memere but she held onto the hope she might get something.
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| You’re not truly dressed for a party unless you’re wearing a spool necklace. |
Grandma’s birthday party really kicked off Sesame’s excitement about her upcoming birthday. She chose a Frozen theme (raise your hand if you’re not surprised) and talks about it every single day. “You make an ice cream cake for my Frozen party? You have baa-yoons at my Frozen party? I wanna caterpillar at my Frozen party. Is Grammy be at my Frozen party? Can Mr. Lion come to Frozen birthday party?” If I got a quarter for every comment she makes about her Frozen party between now and March I could afford the tropical vacation Olaf the snowman sings about.
One of our Christmas traditions is to sleep in the living room by the lit Christmas tree. We didn’t get to do it before Christmas this year so we did it last week. We laid seven blankets out on the floor and attempted to go to sleep. Less than an hour later, Christopher announced that he was going to sleep in our bed because the floor was making his hips hurt. I made a bunch of old people jokes in my head but the joke was on me because you know what happened two hours later? I moved to the couch because the floor was hurting my back. Then I moved to the guest bed because the couch wasn’t comfortable enough. I’m only a few steps away from having to use a stairlift.
Yesterday we tried the Sunday school at the church we’ve been attending. The teacher made us go around the room and say something we obsess over. I HATE any scenario when I’m asked to speak in public. It makes me feel sick and like I might pass out.
To make matters worse, I couldn’t think of anything good to say. I didn’t want to say “I’m obsessed with expanding my nail polish collection” even though that’s very true. I could never say something so worldly when the man across the aisle said he’s obsessed with reading the Bible from front to back. Too bad AB wasn’t in the class. She’s been talking about her obsession for weeks.
Jun 24, 2016 | It's all relative |
Annabelle and I descended upon Ivy and Erika’s house for our first annual girls week or, as I like to call it, Aunt Camp. Annabelle traveled with half her toy collection, three blankets and all her pacifiers.
Sesame was thrilled to meet “Baby Ibee” for the first time. She loves to hold her or hug her head when someone else is holding her. She’s fully taken over all Ivy’s baby toys and made them her own. Baby Belle the doll has had many a wild ride in Ivy’s swing.
Speaking of Baby Belle, Ivy finally has someone her own size to hang out with. One of them is a little more appropriately dressed than the other.
I love any opportunity to cuddle a baby I didn’t have to grow and have removed from my body.
We had a tea party in the backyard. Annabelle acted like a drunk person by drinking out of the teapot and completely missing her mouth.
“Look, Mom! No hands!”
Apr 27, 2016 | It's all relative |
I finally meet my new little niece on Saturday. To demonstrate just how long I’ve been waiting for Daniel and Erika to have a baby, I present the gift I’ve had for them ever since the summer of 2009. I got it before they were married. Every time we move I make sure it’s in our “to be driven in the car for safekeeping” box.
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| The pacifier was AB’s addition. Of course. |
Ivy is still under the lights for jaundice and can only be taken out to eat, but Mom and I got to hold her for a few minutes before she went back in her little bed. She’s such a cute little munchkin. I told Christopher she’s the perfect size to stick in my purse. He said kidnapping is illegal/wrong/etc etc etc. That’s why I never include him in my plans to permanently borrow children. I don’t need that kind of negativity.
While I’ve been making plans to keep Ivy, my current child is having the time of her life at Grammy and Grampy’s. She visits Grampy at work, eats snacks at Memere’s and calls every baby she sees Baby Ivy. She visited with her cousins on Sunday and held little Weston. It was her first time holding a baby and she couldn’t have been happier. She didn’t care that he was screaming the entire time.
Our anniversary is this Friday. Unlike our wedding buddies William and Kate, we will not spend it touring the Taj Mahal. Chances are we won’t even be together so I’ll probably spend the evening of the 29th touring Pinterest. I should use the time between now and Friday to find Christopher an anniversary gift. The traditional fifth anniversary is wood. I’ve known that’s the category for the last year but that doesn’t mean I have a gift yet. Too bad the traditional gift isn’t a onesie. I’m an expert in that category.
Jan 15, 2016 | It's all relative, Uncategorized |
Every time I come home to visit I have too many people I want to see and not enough time. This time has been no different. It’s tough to be so popular.
Joanna came over on Wednesday night. We behaved in the ruckus manner we’re known for by spending an hour at The Christmas Tree Shop. Can’t hold us down! Joanna discussed the feelings and repercussions of her recent breakup and I had a debate over whether or not to buy sticks wrapped in lights for my mantle. Between the two of us it’s pretty obvious who can have an intelligent theological discussion and who wants to decorate a room with sequins.
My uncle took my cousin and I to the shooting range. Despite the fact I have a concealed carry license I’m not a big fan of handling guns. I can do it but I don’t love it. I don’t like gun ranges either. I’m always afraid someone will go crazy and shot everyone in the building. Christopher says that’s crazy and maybe it is, but it still makes me nervous. Thankfully no one else was there so I didn’t worry for my life as much. We had to staple our target to a piece of cardboard and I couldn’t get the stapler to work. What a great start. I almost decided I should’t pick up a gun after I couldn’t operate a standard piece of office equipment. I did a little better than I expected but I’m no expert marksman. The US Olympic shooting team won’t be offering me a contract.
Today is Grandma’s 88th birthday. All week long Sesame has been saying “Happy bir’day, Memere! Happy bir’day, Memere!” and singing happy birthday. She wanted to give Memere a black balloon but I couldn’t find one (not that I looked very hard) so I bought a flowered one instead. She was very excited about the balloon until it was time to present it along with a painted gingerbread man box. She dropped the gifts and didn’t say a word. I guess she’s not a monkey who performs on demand. (Don’t judge my after-Christmas gingerbread man. We painted so many boxes during moments of afternoon boredom we’ll probably be giving them away in July.) Once Memere brought out the music boxes they were BFF’s once again.
I’ve taken on the responsibility of making the cake for her party tomorrow. Nothing like the pressure of creating what I hope will be the best cake of the last 88 years! Fingers and toes crossed it doesn’t fall off the plate when I carry it across the yard.
May 24, 2014 | It's all relative, Sesame |
Well, I took an unintended blogging break. I just haven’t had much to discuss lately besides how we’re suddenly missing 75% of our facecloths and that’s hardly riveting. However, on Tuesday Annabelle and I flew to the land of my birth for a visit so naturally I have to discuss the 12 hours we spent traveling because, as they say in Fiddler on the Roof, TRADITIOOOOOOOOON.
I know some people are perfectly comfortable gallivanting ’round the country with their offspring in tow, but I am not. I polled people on how to successfully travel with an infant and read almost more articles on the topic than I read on pregnancy. I was so nervous that if it could go wrong it would. I had so many visions of the baby throwing up all over herself, me and our seatmate (or getting stranded in the Philadelphia airport, or her screaming for 4 hours straight) that I almost throw in the towel and canceled the whole trip. I hope Annabelle gets the if things get tough, just give up trait from me. It’s a really great character quality. As these things go, I thought I had considered everything that could go wrong when at the last minute Christopher couldn’t bring us to the airport so I had to drive. CUE THE PANIC. That’s the Army for you. Their motto is “Changing Plans, Causing Panic Since 1784”. Now not only did I have to worry about packing enough diapers, getting us through security, and pushing the stroller and pulling the luggage, I had to worry about finding the parking lot, locating the correct shuttle and let’s just never leave the house. Long story short (you’re welcome), we found the parking lot and made it through security without tears. Annabelle didn’t cry either.
I normally try to limit Sesame’s pacifier to sleeping times and the witching hour so she thought she was living the life as I let her have it all day. She got through the entire first flight without making a peep thanks to Mr. Lion. It’s a pity she wasn’t more comfortable strolling through the airport.
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| I couldn’t do all the work on the trip. I made her carry my water bottle. |
The one bonus of flying with a baby is that for the first time ever I got to board with the high and mighties who sit in first class. Silver linings, folks. All that extra time gave us an opportunity to take a picture before we were joined by our fellow coach (aka the commoners in the back) passengers.
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| Yet another subpar cellphone photo to add to my collection. |
The second half of our day was a little more turbulent. Our connecting flight was delayed by almost an hour and Annabelle was ready to call it a day. The flight to Boston was chock full of successful business people with briefcases and big paychecks. Then there was me, bouncing a crying baby wearing a flower headband and singing If You’re Happy and You Know It. I fit right in. When we finally boarded the plane, I settled back for a nap then realized that she had pooped up her back. I took care of that only to have her start crying because she was hungry. I started to nurse her but the blanket had a mind of its own and I’m pretty sure the two men across the aisle got a little show. I never made eye contact with them again.
We survived the trip with Annabelle receiving 412 compliments and me gaining two new gray hairs. When I was doing my hair I noticed two new BRIGHT WHITE AND VERY REAL hairs. If such joking makes things become a reality than I will never again joke about gray hair.
Dad had never met Annabelle and didn’t know we were coming. I rang the doorbell and held her up so he could see her through the window when he came to the door. It was a priceless moment. Almost worth my multiple new white hairs.
