An early Thanksgiving

I am thankful for massages.
And for facials.
And for the Bubba who works hard all day at his desk lawyering [which is not as glamorous as many law students may imagine] so that I can play with Mary Bullock, have lunch dates, tend to the house, and have the occasional [and by that I mean, every five years or so] massage and facial.

As a person who no longer contributes to the family coffers, it's easy for me, between play dates and neighborhood strolls, to overlook the work it takes to finance a family: Oh, look! It's the last Thursday of the month! Magic.

But it's not that way, and today I'm saying thank you to the HBIC of the Wedekind household.

Snarfing Now [New Fave Blogger].

I tried to save this for Friday. Really. For like 2 whole seconds I tried very hard.

At least the mile-long to-do list can be pretty!

Don't know if you guys actually clicked to enlarge the picture of my to-do list from yesterday, but it was quite a list. Especially considering that Mary Bullock forgot to take a morning nap yesterday.

I have a love/hate relationship with lists. When I can cross everything off of my list, I love them. When I cross everything off and then immediately have another page long list, I start to hate them. But love or hate, our house would not function without them. Might as well make them pretty:

I've posted this one on FB before. I'm still in lust with it. I've never seen anything more accurately sum up my daily existence.

This is a new etsy find. It's a PDF that you download and print at home. A little bit of pretty for three dollars. 

On my not quite as pretty to-do list for today: Wish my nephew Grayson a Happy 14th Birthday! 

That Betty sure can cook!

So I'll just be honest: sometimes food makes me a little...blegh.  It was especially bad when I was pregnant, of course, but some Sunday nights, looking at my blank weekly menu, the blegh comes back full force. You would think, since this is the case, that I would be skinnier.

But this is Birthday Things, not Thighs I Inherited From My Mother.

Ahem.

So whenever I cannot think of a single thing that I actually want to make for dinner, and trolling allrecipes.com makes me want to [is there any polite way to say it?], this big red cookbook never fails. And it has pictures! Pictures are a must for the culinarily challenged such as myself. Bless you, Betty.

This Betty has sentimental value, also. It was the first cookbook I ever bought. Lee and I had just started dating, and he was coming for dinner, at which point I figured that I better learn how to cook something.  I think my first attempt was Oven Fried Chicken. Then I lugged it back out to cook dinner the first time he met my parents [Chicken Tetrazzini]. Without Betty, we probably would have spent our first year of courtship eating Peanut Butter & Jelly, because I'm sure that was about the extent of my culinary skill prior to her.

It's certainly no Mastering the Art of French Cooking, but then, neither am I.

What about you? What's your favorite cookbook?

In case you are confused...

I hope that I find something later on today that I love, but for now it has come to my attention that I may need to clarify: I will not now--nor will I ever--be buying an $885 high chair. If you didn't get my humor with the picture alone, perhaps you might re-read the part where I said we'd have to replace the rest of our dining room to make it fit.

I'm pretty sure we have other things to do with our lotto winnings.
[Should that day ever occur.]

For the next baby...

Don't worry...this is a hypothetical baby so far. But I definitely have a list of things that I want for the next Little Bubba Wedekind. Most of it is simple: a video monitor, a Moby wrap, maybe a Phil & Ted's stroller with a doubler.

But then there's this.

All we'd have to do then is get rid of the rest of our dining room chairs and get new ones that are at least as nice. Hmmm...and get a new dining room table to go with them. Totally worth it, right? I thought that's what you'd think! I'm going to start working on Lee right away.

Friday Favorites: Week in Review

How is it already the end of September? How am I the mother of an almost one year old? Where in the world does the time go? Do you ever feel that way?
I was taking the rice out of the pantry to make dinner last night, and suddenly I thought--shouldn't the mommy be doing this? And why does she live so far away? And then I remembered: Oh wait. That's me. I'm the mommy.

Anyway.


Favorite Etsy find: [and I hesitate to even post this, so DON'T GANK IT!]

Favorite new TV show [and The Office was super disappointing, so this might move up to Favorite TV show, period]:

Favorite Blog Post. Makes me kind of want a do-over with Mary Bullock. I should have been a better at my documentation. Instead, I watched the TV on mute for 9 straight hours post epidural. No fun pictures there.

It's crazy that I'm already wishing you all another Happy Friday! I'm just crossing my fingers that next time I blink I won't open my eyes to gray hair.

For this, I could be a Gator

Those of you who know me well know that I am not a sports fan. I have played all kinds of sports in my life, but I just don't love watching sports on TV. Or, in the stands. Or...at all.  I will go to games, I will show up at a tailgate, but don't ask me to recount a single play, or you will be vastly disappointed.

When Lee and I started dating, if you had held a gun to my head and asked what the University of Florida mascot was, I'm not entirely sure I could have come up with an answer.  When it became clear that this was of supreme importance, I actually made flashcards to memorize all the players, including their year and position. [This is how I made Lee fall in love with me, if any of you are wondering. I mean, I made flashcards. What's not to love?]

Anyway, once Lee was in the bag, so to speak, I admit that I might have let my Florida fervor die. But thanks to Tim Tebow [don't be a hater] and now this little pinafore, I can feel a new passion growing.

It's reversible. How cute is that? And more importantly, how could Lee possibly say no?

The Jury's Still Out

Mary Bullock is getting a cold, so there was a lot of crying in our house last night and this morning. I can say for certain that having her nose suctioned is not one of MB's Birthday Things.

Anyway: I really can't decide if I love this or hate this. Actually, that's not too unusual for Lilly and me. I love some of her stuff, but when I put it on I want to puke. Other people can totally pull it off, but I'm still not sure I'm one of them.





ADPis, you're so cool, you get a polo. Be sure to pop the collar.

[I'd like to clarify that I would not be caught dead in a Lilly KKG shirt at this point in my life. I was more wondering if this would be something I would have worn had it existed in 1996. And had I gone to a school were sorority girls walked around with their letters blazing.]

Dear Chair, whatever your name is, I love you.

Most of my internet searching goes something like this:

Suz: I like the chairs with the thingys.
Lee: What kind of thingys?
Suz: You know, the thingys that go [insert crazy hand gestures here]. You know? Those thingys?
Lee: [....]

So I go to trusty old google and type in "chair with the thingys" [not really, but pretty close] and up pops a lot of pictures of chairs I don't want. Actually, I thought the chairs that I liked were called Jefferson chairs, but it turns out, those look like this:


Which is most certainly not what I want for my future kitchen table (which, amazingly, will be IN THE KITCHEN! who knew such craziness could occur?).

But anyway, I struck out there, so I was back to unnamed thingys.

Then, I found it! God bless you, google. This is what I like:


And then I looked at farmhouse tables, because I knew it would make Lee happy to see these pictures (keep billing, bubba--these aren't free!).

Friends with Benefits

I love being the beneficiary of fabulous (and industrious) friends. I mean, I guess I do my share of baking, and I have been breaking out the scissor set recently, but it's rare that I just decide to whip something up on a random Thursday like my friend Laura.

See those peanut butter sandwich cookies she was making? What do you think their destination was? Did you guess my house? (And she brought Prosecco, too! You have to love her.)

Anyway, I had to give some of them away so that I wouldn't shove them all in my face at once in a peanut butter sandwich cookie frenzy, and now I'm regretting it.



Poor little guy. It's lonely being the last one, I suppose. But don't worry--I will put him out of his misery soon enough.

Another picture from the party:


See Laura's daughter Maggie? She's such a good babysitter. Mary Bullock loves her. See Maggie's shirt? Laura made that, too. She also glued her four year old's forehead together that morning.

I'm pretty sure I want to be her when I grow up.

Friday Favorites: Week in Review

This week was a total blur. It's hard to pick favorites when you have no idea where your days went.

But I always know my two favorite bubbas.


I don't know if you can see her bed head, but this is definitely my favorite MB hairdo.


Favorite new pastime: watching MB stroll her baby doll, Pearl.


Favorite happening of the week: getting these.


[Next week's favorite pastime: figuring out what they mean.]

Happy Friday, Everyone!

To Banquette or Not to Banquette?

Good question.

I see them in magazines, and I love the way they look, but it's still sort of a leap for us, decoratively speaking. What do you think?

Halloween Love/Hate

I'm a big Halloween hater, for those of you who don't know. The closest I have come to dressing up in the last six years was my first year in Jacksonville, and Julie and Jill (and Ashley too, maybe?) were coming into town for our Florida-Georgia party. They gave me an ultimatum--dress up, or we're not coming. So I wore a white shirt with a gold star pinned onto the lapel and called myself a cowgirl. That is about the height of my Halloween festivity.

I truly do hate to dress up in costumes, and it all dates back to my freshman year in college. Rachel and I dressed up as shooting stars--all black attire with gold stars stapled all over, armed with water guns. [I know, right? Creative! But you don't know me very well if you think I had any part in coming up with that idea.] Anyway, if you've never been to Chapel Hill on Hallween, it's an absolute madhouse. Unless you like being pressed up against drunk sweaty people you don't know, in which case, this might be heavenly. But when I think of my own personal nightmare, this is it.


Anyway, I don't actually remember anything truly horrible happening that night (other than bumping into drunk sweaty people, which, while disgusting, is not quite traumatic), but whereas before I had no particular affinity or aversion to the holiday, after 1996 Halloween officially became a Thing I Hate.

Needless to say, I have not been overly enthused about dressing Mary Bullock up for Halloween this year (my dressing up is not even a question, but I hated to poop her party, you know?). But that was before I came up with The Costume. It's brilliant, I think. Simple, lovely, all composed of attire that we actually own and will wear again!

I can't tell you what it is yet because I don't want to ruin the surprise. But I will give you a hint:

Am I a square?

So, I'll save you the long explanation, but at tennis last night, the question was asked: what do you like better, squares or circles? Hm. I have been bugging Lee for eons to have a round kitchen table (when/if/ever we have room for such a thing in our new-new kitchen)...



But when really put on the spot, I have to say, I really prefer squares. I have no idea why, but when an answer was demanded, this was my automatic response. Sandy, who had asked the question, said that meant that I am a very structured person.

So I have to ask, if that's the case, why our desk always looks like this:


Definitely not structured. So embarrassing. But there it is.

Anyway, now I will leave you with something I love that has to do with circles AND squares...

[I wish there were a more graceful way to do this, but click here and then click the box that says "Circle and Square."]

Maaauuuuuriiiiice'sssssss

So, today I'm special ordering the BBQ sauce for Mary Bullock's birthday party. [Did ya'll know we were doing BBQ? I hope you're planning to come hungry!]

Anyway, I'm pretty sure Daddy's going to squawk about this, but we're doing chopped BBQ with Maurice's sauce. I can't even say it without my mouth watering. I don't know how I'm going to sit on a case of it until the big day.

Now, I'm eastern North Carolina born and raised (on the playground is where I spent most of my days) (ugh. SO sorry. My compulsion to reference tv show quotes and theme songs sickens even me).

ANYWAY. I'm pretty sure that people from eastern North Carolina are regularly burned at the stake for putting any kind of mustard based sauce on their BBQ, but I'm telling you, it's SO GOOD. When I first moved to Florida, I did a lot of pushing weird looking pork around on my plate, looking for the vinegar and red pepper flakes. Finally, I have come over to the dark side.

I still love eastern NC BBQ, but have made space in my heart for another sort of pig. I hope Daddy will forgive this one. I might have to send him home with a few bottles.

Gossie & Friends, continued

So, really quickly-ish: Kate requested summaries of the other Gossie books, and I am happy to oblige.

You've met Gossie and Ollie. There's also Boo Boo, a small blue gosling who likes to eat. She eats everything in sight, even if it's not Boo Boo's food.



Which member of our family do you think is most like Boo Boo? Could it be...

this one?

Then there's Peedie. Peedie is a small, yellow gosling who sometimes forgets things.



This happens in real life, too.

Lee: Suz, have you seen my glasses?
Suz: Where have you looked?
Lee: Over the hill.
Suz: Have you tried under the hens?

Anyway, Peedie looks everywhere, and finally finds it on top of the egg (Ollie) that he had forgotten to turn even after Mama Goose reminded him.

Then there's the boot thief herself, Gertie. The thing about Gertie is that she and Gossie are friends. Best friends. So after taking Gossie's boots in the first book, she gets her own pair of bright BLUE boots in the sequel, smartly called Gossie and Gertie. Gertie follows Gossie wherever she goes, except when it's dinner time. Then Gossie follows Gertie to the grain bowl.

This is Gossie.

Do you know Gossie? A friend of Lee's parents gave this book to us after Mary Bullock was born, and I'm sure she doesn't even realize what she gave us. I am so appreciative of all of the gifts that were sent for Mary Bullock, but this is one I really can't imagine our lives without. We have read this book several times a day for months, and it never gets old.

If you don't know Gossie, I'll summarize. Gossie is a gosling who loves to wear bright red boots--everywhere she goes. One day, she can't find them. She looks everywhere, but they're gone. Then, she sees them:




It sort of reminds me of mornings when we were younger, trying to get dressed in three minutes because we were already late for school, searching frantically for the one shirt that I wanted to wear, only to find Jen already wearing it. But Gossie handles this situation much more gracefully than I used to. [I think I actually slapped Jen once in a battle over some wonder woman underoos. I was fierce over some underoos.]

Anyway, when Lee realized that I could recite Gossie by heart, I came home one day to a box from amazon on the front porch. Guess who it was!



Gossie, it turns out, has a posse.

Gossie still holds a special place in our hearts, but it's nice to read about her friends, too. Ollie, for example, is not yet a gosling. He refuses to come out! Gossie and Gertie beg him to come out, but nooooooo. Finally, Gossie and Gertie tell Ollie NOT to come out. Can you guess what he does?

Nice, right? A tiny, illustrated tutorial in reverse psychology. Mary Bullock is going to be so advanced.

The Sharks missed out on this one

So, I was all set to do another post today, but maybe I'll have to do that one later. I just came upon this:


Poo-Pourri. Apparently, you spray it either IN the soiled diaper or IN the diaper pail, and it eliminates odors.

I'm sorry this is indelicate. If you've never been desperate to get rid of the pervasive stink of a diaper pail, feel free to now click off to somewhere else in internetz land. You won't hurt my feelings.

But if this really works, how is this not in every Target? How? And why didn't I invent this? Why are the millions not mine?

Actually, perhaps I'm glad to have left the inventing of such a product to someone else. Otherwise, I can just see me at cocktail parties, loose from the wine and attempting to explain the Trap-a-Crap.

[Did I even just say that?]

Would this be weird?

Would it be weird if I bought some other mama's little boy underwear? That would be weird, right? Because I don't have a boy, but these are super cute.



Maybe Baby Bennie will get these in a few years. He's my twin sister's baby--that's less weird. Isn't it?

Friday Favorites: Week in Review

There's nothing like a little end of the week reflection to remind me that the Things I Hate list is very, very tiny and the Birthday Things list is so vast. There are lots of Birthday Things I don't actually write about, you know, because who really cares about pot roast? or Mary Bullock's new big girl jammies?

For that matter, who really cares what I think about mini-Boden or Julie & Julia? But you know what I mean.

Anyway. I can boil down this week's FAVORITES into three bits of news:

Kirby is going to be home from Iraq by October 20th, and he and Molly are coming to MB's birthday party. [It's still weird to think that on another September 11 not long ago, Lee and I had only been dating for one month, and Kirby hadn't even graduated from high school.]

Jen, Jake, and Baby Bennie who is already bigger than Mary Bullock and whom I have only seen like twice in his ENTIRE LIFE, are coming to Mary Bullock's birthday party.

My Mom(thecraftygenius) and Daddy are coming to Mary Bullock's birthday party. Last year this time, Daddy was in rehab (the physical kind, not the drug kind), couldn't walk, and was in a heartbreaking amount of pain. And that wasn't even the end of the ordeal--he was back in the hospital two more times after that. And now he's so much better and still working hard at his physical therapy, and I'm really grateful that they've decided to make the trip and celebrate with us.

I think my poor little heart might burst with happiness. Ya'll just excuse me if I cry through the whole thing.

Julie & Julia: Lessons for Everyday Life

MAN UP! KILL THE DAMN LOBSTER.

Why can't every day be like today?

I won my tennis match, Mary Bullock loved her new sitter, and the architect called to set up a meeting for us to see her proposal for the house. And I'm having drinks and going to see Julie & Julia tonight with the girls. After two days of literally biting my tongue to keep from complaining about this or that, today must be my payoff.

So I won't go back and actually complain about any of the last two days' trivia, but I will let you share in my ooohs and ahhhs over some places where you will NOT muss your brand new pedicure trying to get the baby, the diaper bag, and someone else's dry cleaning into the car. Ahem.








All images from Houzz

[Ugh! I know. This still sounds like whining. But it WAS a brand new pedicure. And I don't get them that often, so it hurt my feelings to have it mussed.]

Every baby and her mama

loves mini Boden. Right? I mean, everything needn't be smocked! Babies need clothes to wear to the playground, too. And they need to not be followed around by a mommy with a wet wipe yelling "I PAID $80 FOR THAT DRESS, YOUNG LADY!"





I also love this little girl's hair. Note to Mary Bullock: make hair grow this way.

Sadly, even mini Boden is a little pricey for play clothes given Mary Bullock's daily feats of daring-do. I swear she looks like a child of the dust by the time I put her in the tub at night.

Thankfully, there is always Target. I picked up some very mini Boden-esque outfits yesterday that I will not cry over when she starts walking and/or lunging for mud puddles in the fall. [Unfortunately, Target is not as willing to let me steal their images.] But I'm sure if you've had a baby recently you've strolled through there yourself, right? Because where else do you go when you haven't showered today?