Vaca Follow Up

We're headed for Playa del Carmen on the 23rd of March. I know it doesn't exactly fit my "no culture" criteria but I guess I will have to learn how to sit, soak up the sun and choke down ceviche without hitching a ride to a remote pueblo for chicharones. A lesson in stillness. This grasshopper is ready to learn.

"No thought, no action, no movement, total stillness: Only thus can one manifest the true nature and law of things from within and unconsciously, and at last become one with heaven and earth." Lao Tzu

That's it! I do have a vacation mission! I will come home from Mexico as one with heaven and earth! Much better than a cheesy souvenir t-shirt, a spring break social disease, a sunburn or a stomach virus.

Pregnancy Tact 101

Five years ago, childless and extremely naive, I had the nerve to exclaim to my pregnant friend, "You've gotten so BIG" (note caps). Music to her ears, no doubt. It wasn't until I became pregnant myself, stuffing myself into jogging bras and praying my bare midriff would not see the light of day, that I truly understood how absolutely wrong and horrible a comment like that was. So in the interest of public awareness I have decided to compile a list of "shouldn'ts" when conversing with our pregnant sisters:
1. "Are you having twins?"
2. "You are starting to walk like a __________." (any animal, fill in the blank)
3. "You must be having a girl." I now know that having a girl means a distorted face and a torso that looks like you swallowed throw pillows. Something about baby girls taking away all of your beauty. Laura recently paid me the highest compliment by stating that all signs are pointing to boy for this pregnancy. Phew!
4. "You're only twenty weeks? You look like you could go any day!"
5. "You're face is really starting to fill out"....got this one on Tuesday. Maybe Laura's boy theory is starting to fade?
6. "Are you sure you can eat that?", or "Shouldn't you be eating more?", or lastly, "I can't believe you ate that entire fried chicken."
There is something about pregnancy that automatically puts a target on your head for verbal diarrhea. You are fair game to everyone's running commentaries/judgements/advice and experience. I'm still working on a way to gently say "no thanks". But in the mean time, I offer a bit of my own advice. Next time you see a pregnant woman hit a home run by letting her know how absolutely fantastic she looks. Tell her that you are certain she is having a boy. Or, if you can't bring yourself to that level of verbal generosity might I suggest, "I like your shoes/hat/purse/nail polish."?

Sun and Surf?

Jerry and I sit side by side on the couch tonight, streaming over all-inclusive deals. We've narrowed it down to the Caribbean as it is close to home and offers some inexpensive options. We're looking for a quick injection of sun and warmth before baby numero two takes over central command on Forest Avenue (post currently held by a certain two year old). I really appreciate Jerry taking the lead on this one. He is insisting on a little R&R after a ridculous work schedule...and who am I to question?
I should be elated, right? Who in their right mind wouldn't be? You know where this is going, don't you?
So I'm a bit confused as to this whole resort/all-inclusive concept. I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around "doing nothing". I forbade any vacationing in Mexico, Jamaica, Puerto Rico or the Dominican Republic. Too much history, culture and really great food to be had off of the resort. I would be like a bird in a cage, chomping at the bit to get out and hang out in the local pueblo eating elotes or scamming some jerk chicken out of a street-side steel drum. Instead, I am in search of a culture-less, small island that is inundated with McDonalds and Americans so that I don't feel tempted to escape. Any ideas? Maybe we should visit some tanning beds in Danville.

Perch Preparation

In preparation for the start of YMCA swim class next week, Jerry purchased Ella some goggles. We gave them a test-run today in the bathtub. Hey, if we're going to start swim class, we might as well start it right. As a two year old, she gets to bypass Shrimp, Kipper and Inea and jump right to the Perch level. Looks like we'll have some catching up to do. More to follow after our first class this Saturday.

You Ain't Jacuzzin Nobody

XOXOXOXO

Super-Market Sweep

Yes, that is Mommy's deoderant in her cart.

Boyfriend-Girlfriend

Sixteen years ago today, did you have any clue what you were getting into? If you could turn back time (say that with your best Cher impression), would you have still asked me to be your girlfriend? Sixteen years covers a heck of a lot of time. Almost half of our lives. We've tackled multiple graduations, trips to the emergency room, the advent of rollerblades...my god, the advent of email, child birth, swing dance class, layoffs, our twenties, deaths of loved ones, marriage, even a recent trip to Chuck E Cheese. Sixteen years ago this night, when you told me to pop the balloon, as the confetti came sprinkling down on my head in the car and as I read your note, "Will you go out with me? I love you."...damn you always had a way with words...did you have any idea we'd be here today? I didn't either...but boy am I glad.
Much love to my best friend. Thanks for being brave.
Sarah

Weekend Warriors

J's job usually takes him far beyond the city limits during the week days. Montreal is already an established second home. He lives out of a suitcase a vast majority of the week. To say he is missed is a vast understatement. His being such a great dad and husband makes it that much harder. Therefore the weekends hold even a more sacred place in our home. Saturdays and Sundays are for unfiltered, unadulterated fun. These moments cannot be wasted and are usually carefully planned to squeeze out every last drop of happiness. This weekend we took on the Kohl's Children's Museum, baked a pound cake with blueberry compote, visited favorite waitress, Nancy, at Louie's, and built forts using our down comforter. Ella hooted and hollered as we made popcorn over the stove. We laid in bed this morning watching the sun peak through the trees as snow fell. Doesn't quite make the weeks any easier, but we've really learned how to define fun on the weekneds. Babe, see you on Saturday night. Miss you already.

Break-through!

One of the best days of the season is walking into your local grocery store and seeing the welcome, sunny yellow of a bunch of daffodils. Get lost winter!

Reality Check

Just when you think you have your "s" together...

Your little one is starting to rebound, you've sat down together and worked on homemade valentines, continued potty training is underway and dinner is in the oven...Boo-yah. Then, you decide to start your second load of laundry (told you I was on a roll). Once emerging from upstairs, you notice that your sweet angel has become quiet and has secluded herself in the dining room on your good carpet. You approach. She says, 'No, Stop It". You make the foolish decision to listen. A few moments later you see a trail of "s" all over the brand new carpet. Awesome. Little one is crying hysterically, undoubtedly ashamed. My heart breaks for her as the kitchen timer is ignored. So in a matter of minutes I go from motherhood royalty to the poopy-picker-upper with burned fish sticks. Papa was emailed photographic evidence. You however are spared...thank your lucky stars.

Do I Need to be Admitted?

A glance at a week of my life. Ink is evil.

Les Deux Gourmettes

We did it, a lemon souffle. Impressed? Well, you should be. While I was spinning pirouettes in the kitchen, making a ratatouille tart and picking up crayons, Mimi whipped up egg whites, grated lemon rinds and helped Ella with dinner. What a team! What was the occasion? The viewing of Julie and Julia of course. We couldn't have settled down with take-out, now could we? Mom's thinking about buying "Mastering the Art of French Cooking". Me, I'm just content to brag about the souffle we made (technically it was all Mom).

Weighing In

We walked in for a two year old well child visit this morning and left with a prescription for antibiotics. The kiddo's got another ear infection. Number three in case anyone is keeping track. I know, I know, in the big scheme of things, no big deal. It's just such a stink seeing your baby sick though.

In other medical news, Ella will continue to wrestle at the feather-weight division. She is in the 13th percentile for weight but a whopping 27th percentile for height. Watch out Charlie Czerkies, we're comin to get ya. May look like a delicate butterfly but she stings like a bee.