Family Portrait

One of my favorite toys as a child was an old dollhouse that resided in the pink bedroom at Grandma Karela's house in Brookfield. I remember lovingly playing with the figurines, making up stories and no doubt working through a myriad of domestic issues facing a seven year old coping with her parent's divorce ; ) I loved that dollhouse. What made it even more special is that it was handmade by my great grandfather (right Aunt Judy?). This fall, the house made it's way safely from Seattle to Oak Park, thanks to one hundred pounds of Styrofoam peanuts and Aunt Judy's careful packing. It is now in Ella's room, ready to provide a stage for a whole new generation of familial angst. And how can one do that without the proper family of figurines? Mimi made sure that Ella received both a Caucasian and Asian family under the tree this year. Too bad toy makers haven't caught on to the whole inter-racial thing yet. Anyhoo, here are Jerry and I in our beautiful home. Aren't we lovely? Jerry needs a bit of hair gel though...reminiscent of his "Flock of Seagulls" stage in high school.

Wheeeeeee!

When was the last time your hiney was skidding down a hill of freshly fallen snow? It's been too long, eh? Jerry and I took Ella down-hill sledding for the first time on Sunday. This season has already seen it's fair share of heavy snow-fall and Saturday night we drove to the local sporting goods store to pick up a saucer...one that was guaranteed to produce some speed and conjure up a few "whees!". The three of us stepped into our snow pants and joined several other Oak Parkers at the hill off of Ridgeland Avenue. The only word I heard coming out of Ella's mouth was "more, more". Her pink cheeks were frozen in smile. Once we arrived home, a trail of scarves, gloves and hats led the way to the kitchen where she tried her first hot chocolate. She was a smitten kitten to say the least.
p.s. Check out the last pic...Jerry is surveying the course, Ella is looking to her Dad for indication of take off.

Twas the Day After Christmas

and all through the house,
boxes and wrappings and a Zu Zu Pet mouse.
The stockings were opened by the tree with care,
some puppets, a slinky and kid chopsticks...one pair.

To say Ella hit the kid jackpot this Christmas is a vast understatement. Gift opening took over an hour and that was with gentle coaxing from Mom and Dad to push on. She relished each and every unwrapping. Once she discerned what was inside immediate requests to "OPEN" were made. A beautiful easel and art supplies from Aunt Judy have already found a place in our living room. A book club membership from Uncle Jim has been initiated. A homemade blanket from Mimi, a penguin backpack and the Muppet Movie from Josh. Trucks and pretend food from Tita and Tito, an Elmo phone and frog rain boots from Lolo and Lola. So many thoughtful gifts. Ella's head is spinning with joy. Requests for "Wah Wah" (aka Sesame Street) were made much later in the day today as she was so busy with her new found fun.

Merry and Happy to all!

Shake It Like a Polaroid Picture

Check it. Old school style courtesy of poladroid.net

A Christmas Conundrum

Thousands of children survive each and every winter...I know I managed to wade through the trauma some time after my 8th year. I don't recall exactly how the conversation went down but I do remember confronting my mother in the hallway one December night about the existence of Santa Claus. I'm not sure how she responded, but whatever she said must have sufficed. I know it's such a trivial topic, what with famine, war and the Senate working on Christmas Eve towards health care relief...but I want to find a way to introduce St. Nick, his sleigh and flying reindeer to Ella without crushing her spirit years later. Imagine the therapy bills! Really though, how do you foster imagination while maintaining some credibility as a parent. Must brainstorm a bit more on this. Thank goodness we have some time before the tooth fairy comes into play! I can at least talk about Santa embodying the spirit of generosity and love. What the hell is the tooth fairy's role again? Taking your old teeth? Um, gross.

Interesting note: 1963 was the last time Congress was in session on the 24th, but the local 7-11 is open 24 hours a day seven days a week - crazy, no? Thank heaven for 7-11...but issues such as the health and success of our nation can take a hiatus every third day. What the what? Merry Christmas!

Happy Holidays 2009

Deck the Halls with Greenhouse Gases

According to some in my social circle, holiday cards may warm the heart but they also contribute to global warming. Therefore there has been an influx in holiday emails. I say bah-humbug. Mother Earth and her side kick Al Gore may turn me into compost for saying this but...I'm sending out cards anyway. No guilty conscience here. The United States Postal Service thanks me. I'm not ashamed to say that I love being on the receiving end as well. How often do I get to open an envelope with no "amount due" listed?

Dear Genevieve,

It's always been a dream of mine to be cast in a reality television show. No, not the kind where you air your dirty laundry with seven strangers in a remote igloo...no, even more embarrassing. The type of show where you air your "dirty" decorating habits and have an expert on interior design judge and correct your misguided ways. I've always known that Jerry and I are a fuchsia couple living in a beige world (self-created, we admit). Now, as Ella prepares to graduate into a "big girl" bed, Jerry and I are left looking at repainted, hand-me-down furniture and blank walls in a beautifully renovated home and wondering where to go next. We need something that fits our vivacious daughter in our new house.
It's 1:21 a.m. and I feel so strongly about this that I've crept downstairs and have already looked on Home and Garden Television's website on rules for applying. Unfortunately, they are only looking for families from New Jersey or the Connecticut tri-state area, who want to take on a huge remodel, are buying a house with friends or who need to be bailed out after a fix-it project went awry (hmmm, not yet, but I may have found our in).
Until we get our big break, you'll find us at Ikea, confused and wandering.

Book Worm

As a child, Shel Silverstein, Richard Scarry and Ludwig Bemelmans would fill my imagination with stories and poems about silliness, animals and a little girl named Madeline.
Today, my little one now loves to bury herself behind a book on the lap of any willing reader. Some of her favorite current reads include:
1. Birthday for Cow by Jan Thomas
2. Cookies by Amy Krouse Rosenthal
and
3. M is for Mischief by Linda Ashman

What's great is that I love these books too. Going to the library, I'm like a kid in a candy store. I'm always looking for new great titles. Have any? Open for suggestions.

All I Want For Christmas Is...

to get off this man's lap.
In all fairness, this Santa was the real deal. He made me a re-believer. Best news was, no long lines, no pissed off elves working the cameras and no $20 photo of my daughter completely freaking out...although those can be quite funny...right little Aliza Joy?

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Mama Needs a New Pair of Shoes...

and other random thoughts.
I haven't read my horoscope lately, but my lucky days must have read December 8th and 9th. Yesterday I got an offer for a free Starbucks beverage (my choice)...granted I had to take a short cyber survey, but who cares? Thoughts of that gingerbread latte dance in my head...make it a large (I refuse to say venti). My luck continued with a Target cashier. A price adjustment was made based on my word alone. No running to the back of the store with a line of angry customers behind me. Just a quick override on the register and the issue was over. Today, I was invited to a dinner party with a bunch of international friends. People with interesting personal histories, a love of food and music. Jerry has already volunteered to take over parenting duties for the night. The icing on the cake was a New Year's Eve plan that does not involve take out, tired pajamas and Jerry nudging me at 11:50 to wake up. Our old college friend is throwing the type of New Year's Eve bash that would will bring out the early twenty-something in all of us, sans Kurt Cobain flannels. But wait, haven't they made a come-back? The invite encourages cocktail attire. Will need to dust off the old threads. Maybe a new pair of shoes?

Little One

Your fingers and toes are starting to develop this week. Those precious hands that will wrap around our fingers when you are born. Sigh.

The Soloist

I can thank my "Cookie Grandma" for my insatiable sweet tooth. Her name says it all. So when I was invited to Tina Dungca's annual cookie party this year, I knew I had to look no further than our family archives for the winning recipe. Rolling pin and flour at the ready I contacted cousin Wendy. A simple straight forward kolacky could certainly take first prize. In the complex world of Kahlua balls, white chocolate bars infused with lavender and chocolate chip bacon cookies, a no-nonsense kolacky would be a welcomed site. I also felt pretty good about channeling Cookie Grandma in the kitchen. This recipe was certainly one that was perfected with care over the years. I imagined Grandma hurriedly making revisions to her recipe card as flour adorned her work space. An email from Aunt Judy set the record straight. This recipe, the one that connected me to my Bohemian roots, the one I was sure had the Cookie Grandma fingerprint...was from the side of a Solo can. I had a good laugh. Grandma knew where to find the best recipes.

Ingredients
12oz Solo filling
1.5 c flour
1 c salted butter
1 tbl milk
8 oz cream cheese
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tbl sugar
1 egg yolk

Methods/steps
Cream the butter and cream cheese. Add the milk, sugar & beat. Add the egg yolk.
Sift the dry ingredients & fold into the butter/cream cheese mixture.
Knead to a smooth dough. Roll out to about 1/4 inch thick & cut into circles. Transfer to a cooking sheet. Drop a teaspoon full of the Solo filling onto each.
Cook 400 F for 10 minutes.

*Refrigerate dough before rolling it out!

Santa Claus Has Come to Town

Santa arrived in Oak Park this evening. His sleigh touched down on Oak Park Avenue at 7 p.m. ...just before Ella's official bedtime. After a brief introduction and a few Christmas carols we quickly ran back home and tucked her into bed. Santa is watching after all.

Full of Thanks and Turkey

The Macy's Santa made his way down 34th street, the Rockettes kicked off the holiday season and the Johnson/Biag family Thanksgiving was complete with Mom's brined turkey and chocolate pecan pie. The dinner was executed like a well-run symphony. Each aunt and uncle working simultaneously on their signature dish, mashed potatoes, appetizer, salad and casserole. The fury in the kitchen leading to a manic crescendo before the parade of food makes it to the Thanksgiving table. We all find our chairs and swap stories from the last year. Between the feverish trips to the grocery store or preparing the house for out of town guests, I hope that you've been able to find some moments of peace, love and laughter this Thanksgiving...well maybe peace (and quiet) is a lofty goal, but at least love and laughter ; )

Shopping this Friday? My Thoughts Exactly

Override

Ella,
The fact that we are pregnant once again is a true testament to the beautiful, wonderful being that is you. I'll admit, within the first five minutes of finding out I was pregnant, memories of bleeding orifices (multiple), sleep deprivation and identity loss came to mind but was quickly erased with the thought of your sweet voice, your generous heart and your infectious laugh. Thank you for opening our hearts beyond what we could imagine. Because of you, we are going to give this crazy rollercoaster another spin.
Much love sweet girl.
Mom

A-Ha Moment

It was Friday morning, the house was quiet, Jerry was in Montreal on business. Ella was sneaking in a few moments of sleep and I was awarded some time to think. And think I did.

Why does the house smell so funny? Why can't I kick this exhaustion? Why was I picking off of Ella's plate last night after devouring a heaping bowl full of pasta?

Can you see the pieces starting to fall into place? I finally did.

Ella's morning calls from her crib were like a brisk slap in the face. I grabbed her, grabbed a pregnancy test and together we watched as two lines erupted onto the stick. OMG...OMG!

So excited, so happy, but can't underscore enough...so surprised! How did this happen? No, I didn't miss that uncomfortable week in 5th grade with the diagrams. But between illness, more illness, business trips (plural) and moves (plural), we're like come on, really? REALLY?

And now we cannot wait to see what the coming months hold. Based on our calculations, 826 Forest will reach full occupancy in July. Does that mean a maternity bathing suit is in my future? Shudder.

Mother Goose

Ella has made sure the "babies" have acclimated themselves to the new home. Here she tucks one in after using the potty.

Squad Car

Don't ask me why, but your Uncle Josh was dubbed "Squad Car" in the mid-eighties. It's been his name, among choice others, for the last twenty-odd years. I wish I could save his phone messages because they are crazy funny. We usually play phone tag because our work hours are exact opposites. But as much as I would love to speak to him live, his messages are a great consolation prize. The other day I get a message about how Snoop Dog does his laundry...with "Blee-atch". You are a complete nut Uncle Josh. We love and miss you.

The New Neighbors

We were invited over to our neighbors house on Saturday night. They are not only our new neighbors, but the couple that renovated and sold us our home. Aside from a few awkward moments about the price of the home and the money that they lost (umm, eek), it was a great evening. We learned that this house was built in 1896 and was home to a family for the last ninety years. While renovating they discovered two small angels up in Ella's bedroom. They decided to keep them there to watch over the home. We had just placed two angels Uncle Josh bought for Ella in her window sill earlier that day.
I get goosebumps so easily.

Home Sweet Home

I'm am just now starting to catch my breath. I even took out the camera AND made eye contact with my family today. Moving must be like labor because I forgot how utterly painful the whole process can be. I will recap the last week (my God in heaven, it's only been one week?) in a haiku.

Aching back
Endless boxes and convict movers
Endless boxes, need to shower

Who knew poetry could be so moving?

I am looking forward to the coming weeks as we splatter our new microwave with spaghetti sauce and attempt to once again grasp the reigns of parenthood. Wait a minute, did I ever have them? Crap, I think I lost them! Toilet training was obviously placed on the backburner as Ella pooped at my feet the other day...two feet away from her potty. Sesame Street has become her religion. I think we are all ready for some stability, dare I say monotony? Until then, Happy Holidays!

Peace Out Hillside

Later traffic nightmare and landfill stench. Hello four block commute to train and Ella's daycare. Do I hear a choir of angel's singing?

Happiness

Last week I had a momentary lapse of sanity. Actually, forty-eight hours, but who is counting? It was a perfect storm...lack of sleep, increasing work hours, illness (tonsilitis, sinus infection, broncitis and no doubt swine flu) complicated by an outing with three well-dressed, well-accessorized, energized, women leading undoubtedly perfect lives. How dare they? My sanity was whirling somewhere near the bottom of the toilet bowl. I felt tired, over-run, one-dimensional, moody and grey. Thankfully, I've come to realize that these moments evaporate just as quickly as they present. All I need to do is just ride it out (why fight it?), get some sleep and call a life-line. And then I ran across this quote...

"The happiest people seem to be very focused on whatever they are doing. Unhappy people seem to be very focused on what other people are doing."

It's not about the number of hours you spend with your child or on the job. It's not about how you spend your free time. It's not about measuring yourself against others. It's about defining and redefining your own happiness as life unfolds. Happy is what I strive to be for my daughter because happy is what I want her to be.

A Rare Treat

Your Lola making homemade lumpia is a rare treat. How rare? Odds are we will see the Bears in the Super Bowl as well as a lunar eclipse before we are blessed once again with these crispy, golden Filipino snacks. They require the patience and precision of a skilled surgeon's hands. It's a tedious process, but well worth the effort. She agreed to share with us her recipe so that one day you and your Dad can share in this family recipe. I am decidedly out of the equation because let's be realistic, patience and precision are not my middle names...in fact, they never were in contention, right Mom?

So Jerry and Ella, I took notes.
Cook one pound of ground pork with two cloves of minced garlic and 1/4 cup of water. Add one large yellow onion, chopped. Once meat is almost cooked add patis (two tablespoons), 1 cup of water, 4 carrots, one small cabbage, 1# green beans and one package of bean sprouts (all veggies are small matchstick sized). Once cooked through, drain and cool. Here comes the tough part. Delicately separate lumpia wrappers, add cooled mixture and seal with water. Place in shallow fry pan. The bottom should be covered with oil. Brown. Serve piping hot and get ready to be showered in praise.

Pictures of course were necessary to document this rare event. I busily snapped shots of Lola's nimble hands folding the lumpia wrappers. I captured the golden glisten as they came out of the pan. It wasn't until much later that I realized the CF card was not in the camera. What the what? Disappointment was an understatement. How can we wait ten more long years? Hint, hint Nanang.

Hacking Halloween!

A fever and chest-rattling cough kept Ella from Trick-or Treating this year. Major bummer. We had to get her in costume and snap at least one picture. Her father and I were dressed up as bank robbers. We even printed money with Ella's mug. Jerry completed the look with some black knit ski masks. Leave it to Jerry to complete the look with realistic (read: truly frightening) props. I had to draw the line with guns. Seriously, we would have been banished from the western suburbs. Pictures of her father and I are not included as we would never be allowed to join the PTA.

She Bangs...She Bangs...

Someone please remind me that I have curly hair before I decide to cut bangs again (I already know there will be a next time). I always cut my hair to commemorate a new chapter in my life. I was envisioning a hair unveiling akin to Lenny Kravitz after he decided to cut off his dreads. Instead, as I stare at my reflection in the mirror after a day of rain showers and humidity all I can say is, crap...and doo doo and an assortment of equally naughty words.
I was hoping that my thirties would allow me to settle into a confident beauty routine. It was a decade where I would figure out what my best features are, highlight them appropriately, hone in on my flaws and work with what I've got. Instead I point to the picture in the magazine with the girl sporting a thick main of straight, manageable hair and say "I want that". Shouldn't I have this figured out by now? Aren't hairdressers legally responsible for this type of ignorance? Really, it is not her fault. I told the hairdresser that I wanted to want to spend time on my hair. What the "h" does that mean? It's no wonder I walked out of the salon wondering what I had just committed to.
Note to self:
1. Three simple words...wash and go. Not wash and mousse and dry and flat iron and spray and go.
2. Curly hair is your reality. Unless you plan on moving to a desert, humidity is also your reality.
3. Next time the impulse strikes, buy nail polish. Wild and crazy nail polish in any color imaginable. Buy gems and fill-ins and any other product Sally Hanson offers. Just no bangs.
Ella, I hope to have most of this ironed out (flat ironed...get it?) by the time your memories become a part of your consciousness. Although a lot of fun can be had in the "hunt" for personal beauty.
Luckily hair grows and so does our understanding of our own goofy ways.

The Great Pumka

Excitement surrounded the carving of the "pumka" this evening. Ella paused only a second before enthusiastically diving into the "pumka" seeds and muck.

Silver Lining?

As we prepare for our close date I have become keenly aware of the dent our new mortgage will create in our pocketbooks. I must warn the general public that manicures, pedicures and eye brow waxes are now out of the budget. I am preparing to be completely encapsulated by cuticles and grow a mono-brow that would make Frida jealous. I'm picturing "Discovery Channel" like proportions. As we've gotten older and have had more disposable income we have been lucky to splurge on certain indulgences...to the point that they are no longer indulgences and simply a given. It may sound perverse and twisted, but I am looking forward to looking forward. Sushi take-out will once again be something special. A pedicure will mark a big occasion. Heating and electricity, something we can enjoy on the weekends...kidding! I hope.

The "F" Word

Two days ago, from the backseat came a gravely voice yelling out the granddaddy of all naughty words...repeatedly. I can assure you this type of language is not heard in our household. I know she was just playing around with consonants. Perhaps conjuring up some hybrid animals (a frog-duck). If she were saying words that rhymed with cram and spit, we will admittedly take more ownership. Note to self: Watch who she hangs out with...Maletich and Czerkies kids...I'm talking about you ; )

The Elegant Farmer

Last spring, while watching the Food Network, I watched in amazement as Bobby Flay got trounced in a bake off with a Wisconsin farmer. From this episode a dream was born. We made a weekend of purchasing the famous brown bag apple pie at the Elegant Farmer. Friends, Vickie and Greg, their children, Audrey and Jack were along for the ride. Hay rides, brisk fall temperatures and runny noses completed the picture.

Forest Avenue, Oak Park

It's official...well almost. The buyers (us) and sellers have all signed on the dotted lines. We plan on moving in mid-November, just prior to the holiday madness. We are incredibly excited to get off of the home buying/selling roller coaster. Hope we don't have to get tickets again for this ride any time soon! Three bedrooms, a three car garage, a great school and a quiet block. Room for a garden, an eat in kitchen and a basement. Can I get a whoop whoop?

Aliza and the Coach

Our buddy Aliza played her last soccer game of the 09 season this morning. She gave a performance that would make Beckham proud. What was even more fun to watch was her dad, our buddy Tony, the coach. He was a natural at coralling a field full of four year olds. His use of redirecting the daydreamers and motivating the sideliners was impressive.

Disconnected

It was as if my right arm was amputated today. I was without phone for 19 long hours. An entire work day with voice mails backing up and emails unread. What if Ella's daycare called? What if the offer on our house went through? What if I was finally selected to be on "What Not to Wear"? The screen was completely shattered but alerts for incoming text messages and the ringing continued. My phone was mocking me and I practically broke out in hives. I really could have done without the reality check on how reliant I am on my telephone. It was repaired this evening and harmony was restored. My name is Sarah, and I am an addict.

School Picture Day

Full Circle

So much of my adolescence and early adulthood was spent totally annoyed with my home-town. I'd refer to Glen Ellyn as boring, dull, unaffected, out of touch and unaware. The "city" was much more enlightened, sharp and energizing and Oak Park made the cut due to proximity. Now as we settle into a new routine in our old home-town a light has been shed on my thinking. Glen Ellyn was a fantastic place to grow up. Safe, friendly and peaceful are not all that bad now that I have a child. Eye contact, salutations and greetings are not overrated and are actually quite nice. Living in a bubble (as I so lovingly referred to it) had it's perks. Perks I am not so opposed to anymore. The bubble is only as insulating as you allow. The bubble is what helped fuel my idealism, guard me against apathy and cynicism, and encourage my belief that change is possible. This innocent naivete coupled with several years playing witness to the "real world" have really helped me settle into the social worker, the mom, the wife I am today. Glen Ellyn has given me the balance I needed to explore lives wrought with poverty, illness, abuse and loneliness. It's helped me realize what could be. All of this to say, we have not ruled out a Glen Ellyn address as we search for homes.

Rated PG for Graphic Content and Language

Ella and her potty had a chance to meet and get acquainted this evening. Three minutes in, she baptised her throne. Jerry and I were jumping around and high fiving like a bunch of buffoons...as if we were awarded a Nobel for greatness. Ella just sat and said "cheese" (she's grown very accustomed to the camera). Capturing Ella, her pride and her pot certainly demand a lot more artistic creativity than this beginning photographer can muster. To preserve her dignity and my social work license, I present you with Ella and her Dad, concentrating on the task at hand...a "G" rated version.

Ants in My Pants

It's so hard sitting still for pictures!

Club Med

We may technically be homeless but we've checked ourselves into an all-inclusive in Glen Ellyn. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are cooked to order. Rooms are spacious, beds are comfortable and the rate can't be beat. Ella's Lolo and Lola are the most patient inn-keepers for these weary travelers.
I must admit, it's pretty weird to be sleeping in Jerry's childhood room. His sleeping chambers were of course off limits when he last lived at this address. While claiming some space in the closet for our belongings we ran across an old wrestling singlet, a Debbie Gibson cd and quite a few pictures documenting Jerry's mullet. This is why I married the man. Can you blame me?

Goodnight Home

We tucked her in for the last time tonight at 832 Home Avenue. Hard to imagine that these walls will soon house another family. This home has seen families through the Great Depression, Sonny and Cher and the Bush era. Since 1913 this house has been home for so many. But tonight, it's ours and I'm convinced our stay has been one of it's happiest chapters.

Preparing for the Move

This weekend has seen it's fair share of boxes, pulled muscles and packing tape. It took two solid days of work for us to really feel like we put in a dent. How did this happen? When did we accumulate so much stuff? I thought I was successfully anti-stuff! But we easily filled a sixteen foot storage pod with our family's necessities. AND WE STUFFED...like Kim Kardashian in leggings! Another pod was quickly ordered and arrived within hours. Jerry certainly put in more man-hours. He must have drawn the short straw, because while I was with Ella and her Aunt Karin in Lincoln Square eating brunch outdoors, Jerry was keeping company with the movers. I hate to overgeneralize, but are all movers required to have a criminal record and dental issues before hired? Seriously, I kept checking in with Jerry throughout the day to make sure he wasn't held captive by Cliff and Jay aka Dahmer and John Wayne. I digress. We now sleep on a mattress in our living room and count-down the days till our move. Bitter-sweet certainly defines our current feelings. Gonna miss this old place tons. We will never be able to capture in pictures everything that we want to remember. New adventures await.

Dad Caved

Jerry finally agreed to a haircut! After months of wearing him down, Ella's face is now visible behind the fringe that was quickly approaching her chin. And it's just in time for her school pictures which will be taken on Friday. Her freshly cut hair was tucked neatly into an envelope which Jerry proudly accepted. Behind that tough exterior is an utter softy. "...but it was the hair she was born with", has been heard on more than one occasion. If it were up to him, our daughter would be the next Crystal Gayle.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Full day of sunshine. That's for sure. Don't remember the last time we saw a rain cloud. Trying to enjoy the last few weekends before the big move. Getting in as much of the city as we can. We fueled up on a lunch of pork, dumplings and sauerkraut with the Karela clan before naps and a late afternoon trip to the beach. Perfection.

It Ain't Swine Flu...

but it's Fifth's Disease. Sounds equally glamorous, doesn't it? Consumption sounds more romantic though. I dragged my tired "a" to the doctor today after a few days of aches, a low grade fever and multiple queries about H1N1. The last straw was waking this morning with a rash. What adult gets a rash? Before smearing myself in diaper cream, (because doesn't that solve everything?), I decided to call an MD. I am now on self-appointed furlough. We'll see how long that lasts. Being sick is so boring.

Destined for Hair Band Greatness

Ella,
Between your father and I, we have your hopes for hair band royalty covered. Check out the kinky waves, lustrous mullet and height. Have you ever seen such magnificent manes?
You can thank us later.
Love,
Parental Units

What Do You See When You Just Stand Still?

Paper or Plastic?

I thought I avoided most of the pitfalls normally encountered by rookie parents at the grocery store. She was well-rested and fed. My grocery list was limited to ten items all organized by department. I had an inkling as we whisked through produce that a storm was a brewin. The dairy aisle is where we stared melt down right in the eye. The low point was a time out by Purina. Oh, the indignities!
*Heartfelt thanks to that woman offering me her unsolicited opinion/parenting advice over the loud screams in aisle four...really...go jump.

Summer in Pictures

Make a Smilebox slideshow

A Proper Farewell To Summer

We sadly bid adieu to summer as Labor Day ushers in the new season. The air is thick with the bitter-sweet smell of BBQ and surrender. The Hobby Lobby indicates that Christmas is right around the corner as I found myself lost among garland and ornaments this afternoon. Jerry and I took an opportunity to inventory our summer last night. We concluded that although hectic, we were able to capture enough summer to last us through the fall. Winter is another story entirely. We hit the beaches in three states, took an official "family vacation" to Colorado, went to a garage sale or two, partook in the bounty of Lolo's garden and ran through enough grass to fully awaken our senses from a winter slumber. Can't think of anything more a summer requires.

Happy Six Year and One Day Anniversary!