Can I just talk about my baby for a minute? Click away if you've already reached the saturation point on hearing how precious I think my kid is. I won't be offended.
I know I'm not saying anything new here, but I think she's the bee's knees. Even when she throws her food on the floor, even when she makes confetti out of the magazines newly pushed through the mail slot, even when she asks "uppeez" for the 14th time after the 13th time she's squirmed to be put down.
I gave her eskimo kisses while she ate her lunch and thought: this is the best thing ever.
Then we sat down to read our books before nap time, and half way through Gossie I heard a little hoooonk-shooooooo, hoooonk-shoooooo. She'd passed out in my lap, sucking on her lovey, with her shoes on, and I thought: no no no. This is the best thing ever.
So my sweet sweet nephew Bennie, [my twin sister's baby] is turning 1 soon! His birthday is Februrary 5, which means he's set with a Super Bowl themed birthday party for like...the rest of his life. Hope he likes chicken wings!
Anyway, Ben Bowl I is coming up, so I'm scoping things out for my sis. That's what sisters who don't go to offices for a living do, right?
I knew yesterday would be a good day, and see? I was right.
1. I found out my Moop has shipped and will be here soon!! This was a Christmas present that didn't get here quite in time for Christmas. I have asked Lee no less than 14,000 times since then when my Moop will be here. I think the fact that it's coming soon is as much a relief to him as it is a joy to me.
I cannot, cannot, cannot wait. I have been mentally organizing all of my items inside this bag for 4 weeks now.
2. My mother-in-law gave us a box of tissues to spare our little red noses from any more toilet tissue (and to save us a trip to Publix).
3. We got good news on something we had been worried about.
4. Mary Bullock and I finally got out for a walk!
5. My lifetime record of zero cavities remains perfectly in tact, in case you were worried.
6. Lee and I spent a lovely night at The Marriage Course. Ate a lovely meal that I didn't have to cook, worked on our communication skills, and amazingly--did not fight over whether or not we were good communicators. Already an improvement over last week's fiasco.
Well I'm on my second cup of coffee. What? Don't judge me. It makes an excellent chaser for Robitussin. We're down to using toilet paper for tissue, since we've decimated the Puffs Plus around here.
The house is covered in laundry [that I haven't gotten around to putting away yet] and mulch from our trip to the park yesterday.
I haven't done much of value this morning, other than microwaving breakfast and packing Lee's lunch.
But somehow, somehow...despite the mounds of dirty tissues, the littering of toys left underfoot, the towers of laundry...I hereby declare that today will be a great day.
Sorry for the absence ifyou noticed that there was one. Mary Bullock and I accompanied Lee on a trip to Tampa Friday and Saturday. It probably would have been more fun had our sniffles not turned into full on yuckiness on the way down there. But we did get to see the Florida Aquarium before we headed back, which was pretty cool.
Since then, I have to say that I've spent most of my time dwelling in my own snotty, coughy misery. And also, reading this book
which is one of the best I've read in a long time. I have about 30 pages left and had to put it down last night before I really wanted to. Then I dreamed about it all night. Have you ever read a book that made its way into your dreams?
I have one other piece of awesomeness today, too! Remember this?
I finished my last bottle last week and was sad to begin what I thought would be a long, mocha-less wait till next holiday season. And then I saw this on the shelf at Publix on Sunday!
God bless you, Nestle. I will enjoy this all year, thank you very much.
Ok, I'm about to admit something to you that is very embarrassing.
Up until about 15 minutes ago, I was afraid of my Cuisinart. Like, serious fear. I got it for Christmas two years ago, and I didn't even unpack it. It has been sitting up in the cabinet right where Lee put it, with the twisty-tie still around the cord.
I had very good intentions of making Mary Bullock's baby food, and then couldn't actually gather the courage to get the thing down. Besides, I figure those Gerber people probably know what they're doing by now.
I was embarrassed by it then, but tonight, when I decided that trying it was probably better than grating an onion, I realized just how embarrassing my Cuisinart-phobia actually is.
Turns out, the Cuisinart only has two buttons.
And I took a picture of this just in case Lee didn't believe that I actually did it:
Oh man, this is so much easier than cutting! The hardest part was getting the bowl off. Good thing I have reinforcements. Laura's advice? Jerk it to the left.
Lee and I put some major time into the hall closet this weekend, so on day 11 I can actually mark one New Year's Resolution off of my list!
We even threw out some love letters while we were at it. It was harder than we thought it would be, throwing out evidence of our lives before each other. In the end, though, given our limited storage capacity, the evidence of our lives together wins the closet space.
[Update: speaking of evidence of our lives together, Lee's major project for the weekend was organizing our massive CD and DVD collection. Guess what we found? The never before watched DVD of our rehearsal dinner! So Mary Bullock and I watched it today! Fun times. We looked so young. And skinny.]
The resolution I'm having the most trouble with is actually the exercising, even though I'd really like to be doing it instead of being trapped in the house. It's just hard to justify taking Mary Bullock out for a run when it's 35 degrees outside. When it warms up, though...I'm on it. Swear.
In honor of Lee's birthday, today I'm going to tell you about the camping trip he took last weekend, which is-- I'm sure-- a Birthday Thing of his. [Excuse the iphone pictures.]
First there was a gang of boys. Men, to be exact. A few brave wives/girlfriends, but mostly men.
And also one brave dog.
And lots of guns, the names of which I do not know or care to know, but which seem make men happy and therefore must be cool.
There was a skeet thrower...
And there were even some leg holsters like Lara Croft, Tomb Raider.
And there was a shooting contest--because they wouldn't be boys if it did not turn into some sort of contest.
They made loud noises, drank keg beer, ate something that used to have a heartbeat for dinner, and slept outside despite temperatures in the upper 20s.
To Lee, I don't think 24 hours could get any better.
I decided since Mary Bullock likes to go through junk and throw it on the floor anyway, we might as well work together on the hall closet. It's located right outside of her nursery, so doing it during her nap really wasn't an option, anyway.
So, after lunch we dug in. I got almost everything out except these boxes.
The two shoe boxes are Lee's love letters. [The larger plastic bin actually contains his baseball card collection. YES. THIS IS WHAT WE ARE USING OUR PRIME STORAGE REAL ESTATE FOR.]
Ahem.
The flowered box contains the only love letters that I have kept. [And Lee calls me a pack rat.]
Whenever we clean out this closet, [if you can believe that we have ever cleaned it out before, given its prior state] it always comes down to this. He hasn't been able to actually throw them away yet. In his defense, they are not all love letters. Many are. [If you have ever figured prominently in my husband's life, by the way, I have read your letters.] But others are letters that his grandfather wrote to him when he was in college, cards from his mother and grandmothers-- precious things. Those won't go anywhere.
But the love letters. Hm. I vote for burning. [Except the ones from me, of course.]
What do you think? What have you done with your old love letters?
I've lost something recently. I can't pinpoint what day it was exactly that it was lost, and that might be contributing to my failure to locate it. Who even knows? Our house is turned upside down daily by the whirling dervish that is Mary Bullock, and with the holidays and a camping trip and dinner guests, there really is no telling where the thing has been stuffed. Probably the trash can, if we're honest with ourselves.
But today for some reason I felt like if I didn't find that thing, my head would explode. I've looked everywhere. All the logical places and-- because it's me here-- all the illogical places, too. No dice.
On the upside, it did remind me of this poem, which is one of my favorites, favorites favorites. Former student readers, I hope you remember this one:
******************** One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
********************
Made me feel a little better. I haven't lost any rivers lately.
It's always a little sad, isn't it? Or are you one of those people who can't wait to have it all put away? Lee and I once left our tree up until February. That was a good year.
But after we outfitted this year's tree with a baby gate [for her own protection], she did not receive the water she required to make it another month. So now it's time to say goodbye.
The last thing we do before we put the Christmas ornaments up for another year's lodging in the garage is to tuck a copy of our Christmas card into one of the boxes. Three years ago we did this by accident, and the following year we were so amused by unearthing our old Christmas card that we decided to make it a tradition. Ok, I decided. But it's one of my favorite ideas maybe ever.
Is it too late to take back all of the complaining I did about it being 70 degrees here the week of Christmas? Because it's really stinking cold. SO cold that I can hardly force myself out of the house to do my 10,000 errands. So cold that I'd rather stay IN the house and let Mary Bullock throw every toy she owns on the floor rather than venture out for a walk.
So far, not much different from 2009. But I'm hoping-- really really hoping-- that those greens I ate last night will take effect soon.
Anyway, today I will skip the blah blah blah and just show some pictures of our morning.
Mary Bullock got a baby stroller for Christmas, but the only baby allowed to ride is Mary Bullock. I tried to coax her into giving Pearl a ride a few days ago, but that ended badly [for Pearl, I mean] so I just let her push around an empty stroller most of the time.
She's also started walking around with her hands behind her back a lot. We have no idea where she gets this, but she looks so contemplative, doesn't she? Like she must be wise beyond her year.
Anyway, I took the day off from trying to fulfill my New Year's Resolutions yesterday, because who does laundry on New Year's Day? But today it's on. So, I need to go read, do laundry, clean something, cook something, and not spend money.
