How the Mighty have Fallen

***WARNING: Pictures of feet! VERY BAD! Get out while you can!***

For most of my twenties I held firm to the idea that fashion comes over function when it comes to my shoes. It's not that I spent a lot of money on shoes (most came from Target), but I wasn't going to wear running shoes with my jeans or sensible sandals with a skirt just because I had to walk a lot in my daily routine. During my college years, I was a slave to foot fashion for the most part, in spite of attending a college with an enormous, sprawling campus. To me, wintertime meant heeled black boots and you can just imagine how well that worked out on icy Minnesota sidewalks. Summertime meant strappy, straw, wedge-heeled Steve Madden sandals (oh, college friends - remember those?) and therefore summertime also meant a constant state of blisters and bleeding feet, which caused my mom no amount of grief. She would call me from Fargo just to find out about the state of my feet and would try to warn me about the dangers of not wearing proper shoes. Great intentions, but I was 21 and more interested in my next fruity cocktail than about permanent damage to my feet.

Besides, after spending hundreds of hours in these puppies during my teen years, permanent damage to my feet was kind of a given.
Then, when I graduated from college and started my dietetic internship at a large hospital, I switched over to classic heels. The clickier the better. I attribute my love of the hallway-heel-click to the beautiful and exotic secretary, Ms. Tennyson, at my elementary school. I don't remember much about Ms. Tennyson besides her appearance. She wore her long, dark hair in a bun with a pencil stuck through it, which was just too awesome for words. Her style included long skirts, fancy blouses, and always, always, always high heels. Her sound was her signature and even from inside a classroom, you could hear her coming down the tiled hallway. [Edited to add: My fellow Washington Elementary alum, Angie, pointed out that she also wore white tennis shoes on a daily post-lunch walk. How could I forget that?] I knew I wanted that heel-clicking sound to be my signature some day and between the ages of 23 and 28, I tried my best to live up to that dream. Again, bleeding feet and blisters were just a part of life.

Outside of my professional life, I generally still bought shoes solely for their looks. Sometimes the shoes were so ridiculous that I've never actually wore them in public, like these beauties.That's a 5-inch heel, my friends, and I am over 6'1" in them. I like to think there are strippers in Spain wearing the exact same shoes.

When I needed comfortable shoes, I wore cheap flip-flops. I picked up these in the clearance bin at Target in 2003 and they have since taken me around the world. Literally. They have been to India, Honduras, Mexico, Austria, and Ukraine, not to mention to several U.S. states. I can and have walked miles and miles in these $8 flip-flops. They have been my go-to flip-flop for years.

It only really occurred to me this summer - their SEVENTH summer in existence - that they are no longer acceptable in any way. Sure, I still get the occasional compliment on their sparkly pink appearance, but I don't think the admiring look of an 11-year-old girl is really something to be proud of when you will soon turn 30. Plus, it's really embarrassing to take off your shoes at someone's house when the insides look like this...
So today, I finally caved and admitted to myself what my mom has told me all along. I need to wear sensible shoes if I'm going to be walking several miles a day.

This morning I went to REI and bought these.
I'm still sort of in shock about the whole thing. I mean, after YEARS of making fun of Husband's fugly Chacos, I went and bought my own pair. I know I'm not fooling anyone with the pseudo-strappy-sandal-look, but it does make me feel a little better. You want to hear the crazy part? I think I spent more on these shoes than I've ever spent on a pair of shoes before.

So good for me. I'm growing up and becoming sensible. That's great(ish). But if I ever start to think that a pair of Grandma shoes are acceptable in the years before I turn 85, simply because they are comfortable, then somebody must stop me. This is your duty as my reader. Don't let me fall down the slippery slope to ugly shoe-dom.

Now to find a use for all those band-aids that were just waiting for their high season to start...

Dangerous City Life

Do you see what I have to deal with here in the heart of Minneapolis? It's a place where people carelessly leave banana peels in the street with no regard to the safety of others. You would never see this type of thing in the suburbs.

Neither Here Nor There

• I had a terrible experience at the co-op today. As I was checking out, both the check-out girl and the bagging boy were being very friendly and nice - cooing at Bella and such. But then I mentioned that while I love the co-op, I need to cancel my membership as it's just too far from my house. (I've found one less than a mile from my house, but I didn't mention that.) People, it was like a cold wind blew through there. I suddenly had flashbacks to an upleasant break-up experience from when I was 21. The surly looks! The silent treatment! The sullen attitude! It was awful. Also? It will take 90 days to process this cancellation. Riiiiiight. Peace out, co-op.

• After the highly emotional co-op visit, I decided to treat myself to Starbucks, where everyone behaves exactly the same and they will not turn on you if you mention the need to see other Starbucks. I got a tall non-fat caramel macchiato (Pre-Preggo Bucket List check!) and also impulse purchased the new mini birthday cake donut. I give it a solid check minus: not enough donut taste and not enough birthday cake taste. I felt it was my duty to tell you.

• I also impulse purchased rainbow chard at the Farmer's Market last weekend and am now trying to avoid it in my fridge. I know that Husband knows that I'm avoiding it, but neither of us are talking about it because neither of us really wants to eat it. Why couldn't I have picked up Skittles like a normal person if I wanted to [creepy whisper voice] taste the rainbow?

• I am now the owner of a pair of SHORTS. I know! After I told you that I was opposed to buying and wearing shorts! So I'm a liar-pants. But it was essential for my day (and, uh, night) job. Crawling around in my previous summer staple of a knee-length summery skirt was not quite working out at baby storytime. Here they are. They're not too bad, right?

• Well, I don't think they are too bad. Husband, however, made gag face when I pointed them out at Target a while back, citing the pleats as the problem. I think he who still weareth pleated dress-pants should not cast the first anti-pleat stone.

• See our duvet cover in that picture? Husband says it looks like loose granny panties since I took the too-hot down comforter out of it. He's right, but I'm not going to spend another summer with a hideous tapestry-sheet-thing he bought in college serving as our bedspread. What do you all do in the summer? Or do you live in houses where spouses are kind enough to allow the temp to drop below 76° at night?

• I like how I'm worried about having granny-panty-bed when my wall is still bare DRYWALL AND NAILS after 3 years.

• As I am gazing at this picture, it occurs to me that I've started dressing Bella like me - today we are both sporting pink shirts and blue shorts/leggings. Sometimes we wear white tanks and solid color knee-length skirts. We also both wear rompers some days. If anyone points out that I have a mini-me situation, I'm going to roll my eyes and act like Bella is so annoying to dress the same as me, just like a Junior High girl. That'll fool 'em!

• Pfft on the romper ownership! But were you nervous for a second? Worry not. Since I'm the proud owner of the longest torso in the world, a romper on me would turn into a camel-toe/thong situation so it's a non starter. And, let's not forget the real issue, ROMPERS ARE NOT APPROPRIATE ON ADULTS. Thank you and good night.

Lazy Blogging

My blogging mojo is gone at the moment. I suspect it went to Cali for the weekend. I don't have much of anything to write, except for this:

• I need more running/exercise music for my iPod. I got some good feedback when I asked this question on Facebook several months ago, but now I pose it to you. What do you listen to? The more shameful, the better.

• The biting-the-boobs situation has morphed into something weird. We were happily bite-free for a bit until today, which started out with a chomp right at 5:20 AM. Bella seems to now be refusing the breast, but she will take a bottle of pumped milk. GAH. Any wisdom on this one?

HALP!

Updated to add: I wrote this last night, but as of this morning Bella nursed without any problem. I think the combo of her biting/my reaction, hormonal changes related to my period, and her getting her one-year molars is making breastfeeding sort of hit or miss right now. So no need to comment on the nursing strike. I would still love music ideas, however, so comment away on that!

Letters to Bella: 13 Months

From now on I'm going to do a bulleted list of baby skillz and highlights each month instead of a letter for I fear that I will someday have three (or four-EEK!) children and will be bogged down by monthly letters. In reality, children 2+ will be lucky to get a random note written down on a post-it as their baby book. Poor, poor children 2+. Oh, and this post is about two weeks late. OOPS.

• Bella can now make animal noises on command, including baa, moo, meow, bow-wow (this one comes out bo-bo), and neigh. We love this and take every opportunity to show off her tricks in public.
  

• She continues to stretch out and slim up (current stats are 30"/75th percentile and 24 lbs/87th percentile.) People comment on her chubbiness all the time and here I am thinking she looks so thin these days.

• Bella chooses walking over crawling 95% of the time, but is still a little wobbly on her feet...resulting in a lot of bruises and bumps. This is trauma for the mama, but it's fun to see her on the go. We take her to the park and run her everyday. (Yes, we are having some confusion about baby vs. dog these days).

• She continues to expand her vocabulary, and shows a special fondness for the letter b. Words include dada, mama, Bella (beh-wa), kitty cat, dog, bug, cat names: Toonses ("t-t"), Midgie Poo Poo ("puh puh"), bye-bye, bird, balloon, ball, baby, bib, bath - plus a few others that I'm forgetting. Oh! And today she said water.

• She is now a master of velcro and can take off her diapers, bibs and sandals.

• She is an adventurous eater and will eat anything we put in front of her, including spicy, garlicky, onion-y, and really sour foods.

• Eating skills are improving, but she still needs lots of help with spoon directing.

• She loves rolling over the cats when they are lying on the floor. She will back-up to them, plop down and commence steam rolling. Toonses, my curmudgeon cat, is a special favorite for this activity.

• She is always going, going, going, but still responds to the song Edelweiss and will (very briefly) freeze in place is we sing it to her. It honestly seems to hypnotise her.
  
  
• She continues to be the most social baby EVER and has yet to have a whiff of stranger anxiety. She assumes that everyone in this world is here to get the chance to hold her and it is her mission to toddle up to each and every person with her arms held high so they pick her up. This continues to be very cute-slash-alarming, depending on the targeted person.

Recipe Round-Up

Last week's recipes that I posted on my food blog: The Mothership's Galley.

Chana Masala
Cheese Tortellini Caesar Salad

Tomato-Bread Salad

Bulgur-Turkey Burgers and Baked Sweet Potato Fries

White Peach & Strawberry Fruit Crisp with Vanilla Ice Cream

Recharging my Battery

I was so fatigued this afternoon. The kind of tired where you turn all floppy and can only respond to people with a, "Hm-what? Heh?", like an elderly man with a bad hearing aid. The sort of tired where you just want to shut your mind off and rest.

When I would experience these moments any time prior to May 27, 2009, I would indulge myself with a lie down on the couch. I would maybe turn on Jeopardy or simply close my eyes and have a little snooze. Just a little relaxation time to re-charge my battery. Of course, it never really worked that well as I would end up even more tired, but the lure of that couch was too great to overcome.

You don't know how much I wanted to do this today (or, um, everyday at 4:30 pm), but, of course, I couldn't. I could, however, find a way to shut my mind off for a while while still being a responsible and loving parent. I strapped the babe in the jogging stroller and went for a run.

A run! A run when I was feeling exhausted. This happens a lot and I inevitably actually feel re-charged after it, as opposed to the further exhaustion that the couch would bring. It took having a baby to make exercise an easy and automatic thing (some days, anyway). Life is strange.

Hot in the City

It was HOT here yesterday - in the high 80s and super humid. As I walked to the library at 10 in the morning - with sweat pouring down my face and pooling in my bra - I passed by the wading pool in the park and saw it with new eyes. Suddenly it wasn't a cesspool of chlorine and pee; it was an oasis.

So when Husband arrived home from work, we headed to the park to cool off.
She wasn't so sure at first...
But quickly decided she loved it.



I decided to pretend and old sports bra was a bikini top, because there was NO WAY I was walking several blocks with just the support of a tankini.

Do you see my face here? There is an entire series of photos with this grimace-face. Do I look like this all the time? This must be explored and remedied.

I love the hooded towels just as much today as I did one year ago.

E.T.

Definitely a good time and we'll do it again. I was pretty good at shutting my mind off to the grossness of the wading pool, but we did decide to get out when a dad started throwing water out of the pool in the area where his daughter had just been. Yummy!

My Nipples Have Teeth Marks

What a title, no? Yeah. Houston, we have a bit of a problem.

Bella seems to be getting her one year molars. She is fussy, waking up during the night and endlessly poking a finger into the back of her mouth. Oh - and one last thing - she has started biting while nursing. BITING. ME. On the NIPPLES. NIPPLES! NIPPLESBITINGMEPAINBADHELPHELPHELP!

The last time she tried these shenanigans several months ago, soon after she got her first upper tooth, I gave a firm, "NO" and took her off the boob and ended our nursing session. It only took a couple little nips, nothing ever that bad, and she learned. Up until this past week we have had no other problems.

But things aren't quite clicking this time. I am following the same technique I used before, but she is still biting me at least once a day. And this time the bites are a lot chompier than before. Even better, she is melting down into hysterical tears when I use my very serious voice with her to tell her no biting. And then I just want to laugh, because you can tell she's all, "Maamaa! You hurt my feeeelings! Why would you yell? I'm so sad! Waaaah!" It's just hard to take her hurt feelings very seriously when I am the one with perfect teeth indentations on my boob and, besides, I know that she knows what she did wrong because now she has begun to look up at me all sly right before she bites.

This too shall pass and I don't have any plans to give up nursing because of it, but yeow! in the meantime. Any ideas on a good teether for those back molars? Teething rings, semi-frozen fruit in the mesh feeder and cold washclothes aren't doing much for the poor girl. And what about those Hyland's Teething Tablets? Yay or nay?

Her Father's Daughter

One of the first things that Husband will tell people that he has just met is that he is a hugger. "I'm a hugger. Are you a hugger?" he'll ask, and if they respond in the affirmative, then he grabs them in his arms (sometimes startling them) for a big bear hug. Now, I should clarify that he doesn't do this to everyone. The Fed-Ex guy, for example, doesn't get enveloped in a big old hug. No, I'm talking more about when he first meets my family members or friends. Or sometimes friends of friends. Or, actually, maybe he would hug the Fed-Ex guy if so moved. Part of this hugging business is because he grew up doing it (Lord, his family hugs goodbye and hello when someone runs out to the car), but part of it is because he's just so happy to interact with people.

Husband is also a talker. He knows EVERYONE. I avoid going to Target with him for this very reason - a 15 minute trip quickly becomes 60 minutes when you know every other person you see. He's just so friendly, you see. He is genuinely interested in people that he meets and he wants to get to know them. I would say that Husband is one of the most social people I have ever met in my life. He just loves people.

So that's Husband. Then there is his daughter, Arabella.

In the past month, this little girl has interacted with almost everyone who has crossed her path. When she is strapped into her stroller, they might just get an enthusiastic wave, but if she is free to reach out to someone, she will. And so she will end up being held by the check-out lady at Home Depot or the Spanish-speaking mom at the clinic or by the random woman sitting on the ground at the outdoor concert. She hugs 75% of the other moms and dads at baby story time each week (in addition to the librarian) and will climb into their laps regardless of whether there is already another child already sitting there. And then, yesterday, she did this...We do not know this woman. Bella saw her and reached up for her hand and then decided to drag her along to her next point of interest.

She just loves people and can't get enough of them. If Husband ever wanted proof of her not being the mailman's daughter (besides the mailman being 100 years old), then this is it. She really is her father's daughter and for that I am so glad.

Happy Father's Day, Husband!

Putting the O in Over-Think Since 1980

One area where I remain a little confused and unsure of myself is the feeding of Bella. This is a highly irritating feeling since I'm a DIETITIAN and therefore should feel more self-assured in this area. Or maybe it's the fact that I spent years of my life studying nutrition that makes me more confused. Why couldn't I have picked an area of study that has been set in stone for millenia? Well, for whatever reason, I'm never quite sure if I'm doing the right thing in the food arena.

Questions I regularly face:

• What should I be feeding her? Should I be feeding her what we eat for dinner each night instead of making her own baby-friendly meals? She does get some of our dinners, but a lot of them just don't seem appropriate. Things like spicy curry or salad or non-organic frozen pizza. But am I slowing down her eating skillz by giving her the baby-friendly meals? And should I stop giving her any purees at all, even though they are a convenient way to get certain vegetables like spinach in and the fruit ones mix well with yogurt? It's not like I would just give her a puree at a meal, but it seems a little weird to keep them in her food rotation now that she's one.

• Is it time that we start eating dinner together each night as a family? Because - gah. I don't want to eat at 5:00 and I can assure you I do my digestion no favors when I multi-task feeding her and feeding myself. We eat lunch together everyday and spend TONS of time together during the day, so is that enough for now? Maybe I can enforce a once-a-week family dinner this summer and keep increasing it from there. When the kids are school age I will insist on family dinners, but is it necessary now?

• Do I need to calm down on the 90% organic and super healthy diet? I would like to keep her diet as healthy as possible for as long as it's reasonable and not socially weird. But my desire to keep her food really healthy keeps me from always being able to feed her what I eat at lunch and dinner. And the obvious solution would be to switch my diet from generally healthy to uber healthy, but...eh. Life, you know?

• Speaking of feeding herself, at the last pediatrician appointment they said I should no longer help her eat. At all. And, uh....what? She does fine with finger food and OK with a spoon, but she still needs some help. If I left it up to her she would get about 15% in her mouth before losing interest and the rest would be on her face, clothes, her high-chair, and the floor. And it's not really my goal to up the cat's intake of yogurt & produce, you know? I feel like it's reasonable that she works to feed herself part of the time and I help out the rest of the time, but the rule-follow in me is now feeling twitchy about ignoring the pediatrician's advice.
  

• And my last question: how messy should I really let things get at meals? I'm all for letting her explore and learn, but where do I draw the line? Am I being too uptight when I prevent her from flinging spoons and cups and dishes all over the place? Or am I being a slobby mess by letting her do some flinging? Which is it?

I'm asking most of these questions rhetorically, dear readers, but feel free to chime in if you feel so moved. I think all these questions will be worked out in time and by the time future babies are in the picture I will laugh that I even devoted much head space to them. But here is what I do want to know - am I the only first-time mom who feels like I am missing a bunch of information when it comes to feeding your baby?

Just like in golf, a hole-in-one is a rare and celebrated event.

Neither Here Nor There

• We went to an extended family picnic with Bella over Memorial Day weekend. At one point during the evening, I got a text from Husband that simply said, "Confident." I was terribly puzzled. What did it mean? Had my socially awkward tendencies reached such an all-time high that Husband felt the need to send affirmations via text? Or was it something he meant to send to someone else and sent to me by mistake? And what was he doing texting at a family function like some 16-year-old girl? I didn't have time to text him back (or talk to him directly seeing that he was at the same party) because Bella started smearing food all over her face, so I promptly forgot about it until later. It turns out he was showing my cousin how his iPhone will automatically correct spelling for you in text messages and that was the word he picked to show her. I liked it better when I thought he had taken to sending me affirmations via his phone. Life was more interesting that way.

• There is a cute new boy working at the deli counter at the fancy grocery store near our house. As is my way, I got all flustered around him and was blushing and stammering when I requested my 2 oz of pancetta, just like I did when I was around the cute boys in junior high. (Um, this is not to say I requested pancetta from Junior High boys. I just meant I was nervous around them.) Anyway, I'm pretty sure I accidentally gave this dreamy boy crazy eyes in my desperate attempt to not be awkward. Sure could have used a "confident" text affirmation from Husband that day, I tell ya.

• I made the mistake of telling husband about the cute boy at the grocery store and my subsequent crazy eyes. This was a grave error on my part as the last time he knew about a neighborhood crush - a lanky check-out boy at the wine shop - he went out of his way to choose that guy's line and make lots of conversation with him. I DIED each and every time. Thank God that he eventually quit working there.

• I'm suddenly thinking that maybe that boy quit working there because he went off to college or something. And what if the grocery store boy is only like 18 or something? What if I'm turning into that Matthew McConaughey character from Dazed and Confused?? You know... "That's what I like about these high school girls; I get older, they stay the same age." Eek! Must remember that I'm almost 30...

• Last week I ate a particularly fiber-filled lunch of lentils. This is one of the nicer points about working at home with a boss that is in diapers. I can eat all the fiber I want and not worry about being tooty at an afternoon meeting. Not that I ever toot. Obvs. Anyway, I did happen to let out out a toot (for the first time ever in my life, swear to God) that afternoon in front of Bella and it could truly have been called a trouser trumpet. Bella looked at me for a second and then stuck out her tongue and loudly blew a raspberry back at me. Oh, the funny.

• I have been wearing a free Kashi t-shirt (dietitian perk #1 of...1), which says "Grainavore" on the front, a lot lately when I run or walk outside. I'm drawn to it like a moth to the flame in spite of having several other more flattering shirts that I could wear. Like my shameful crush on Howie Mandel, my sudden desire to wear this shirt all the time cannot be explained.

• This weekend I ran into my 8th grade crush (wearing my Grainavore shirt, natch) and his wife and baby on the sidewalk by my house. This is weird on lots of levels, but especially since we both grew up 240 miles away from here and because I have a diary with his name and a heart around it in a large tupperware bin in my basement. I was the one who initiated saying hi and we chatted for a couple minutes and it turns out they live just a couple blocks away. As we were saying our goodbyes, he said, "I'm glad you said something. I saw you and I didn't know what to do." Look at that! For the first time in my life, I was the one with the social skillz. I can't help but think that text affirmations, whether accidental or intentional, are key.

Recipe Round-Up

This whole food blog business is far more involved than I would have thought. I think the problem is that I didn't realize how many recipes I would need to write out. So, if you wouldn't mind, I could use a little feedback. Is this useful/helpful/interesting to see what I'm cooking? If not, I'm still going to keep it up for my own sake as it's nice to have my recipes organized. But if it is helpful, then I'll put a bit more effort into it.

I cleaned up the look of the Mothership's Galley to make it more user-friendly (I really need to change that creepy name...). I eventually hope to get into a routine where I post a recipe round-up once a week on this blog, but will update the food blog more frequently during the week. There is still a meal-planning 101 post on my to-do list (I haven't forgotten your request, Katie!).

Veggie Quesadillas

Roasted Red Pepper Pasta

Barbeque Chicken Sandwiches

Fruity Spinach Salad with Poppy seed Vinaigrette and Garden Vegetable Quiche
Fruit & Lime Creme Parfaits

Husband's Chicken Curry

Roasted Beets & Nectarine Salad

Preacher Cookies

Tuscan White Bean & Cheese Tortellini Soup

Whole-Wheat Buttermilk Blueberry Pancakes

More Baby Food Recipes

Pesto Pasta with Beans
A Finger-Food Delight

Prunes with Mixed Berries
For the baby who needs to move it, move it

Green Beans with Quinoa
Because it's fun to eat food that starts with a 'Q'

Baby Dahl or Curried Lentils with Vegetables
Not all of us can be as pretty as the prunes with mixed berries...

Where's Anna?

Many moons ago we hired a maid named Anna (pronounced "Ah Nah") for a one-time thorough cleaning of our house after it caught a STD.

Yes, you read that right. Our house once had a STD. It's true. We picked it up in India. But maybe New York City. Possibly northern Minnesota. Or Florida. Even sweet, innocent Fargo can't be ruled out. The fact of the matter is that Husband and I had been sleeping around the world and somewhere along the line we picked something up. I suppose it was bound to happen since we were being fast and loose with the traveling and ever so promiscuous regarding where we slept.

We didn't realize there was a problem right away. Nope, we just went along with our merry business until Husband's parents were visiting and we kindly gave them our bedroom while we slept on the futon. Husband's mother was complaining of getting bit at night by something, but we didn't really pay that much attention to it at first. After a few nights, though, her bug bites had turned into large welts and were really causing her some distress and we realized there was a problem. A big, bad, horrible, so-traumatic-that-I-can-still-barely-think-about-it kind of problem. Yes.

Bed bugs.

The cute little phrase Don't let the bed bugs bite is now enough to send me into a corner where I tremble and rock back and forth.

But the Bed Bug Trauma of '06 is not what I want to talk about today. That story will be saved for another time (oh, and what a story it is!). Today I want to talk about Anna the maid.

Anna came over that one time to help us clean our house to a degree it has never been cleaned before or since. She worked very hard and even waxed the hardwood floors to such a sheen that it caused not only us, but the cats to slip around and fall down. (That part was funny, actually. Falling down is always funny. Classic slip-on-the-banana-peel humor!) Ever since that fateful September day when Anna visited us, whenever there is a task we don't want to complete around the house, we ask each other, "Where's Anna?" I really do believe that on some level, we hope she will appear. We hold out hope that some day Anna will come back and do the vacuuming. Some day...

Lately, however, our request for Anna is less about pesky household chores and more about having her come and watch the baby so that we can relax. And herein lies what I really wanted to talk about today, before I got distracted by talk of maids and House Herpes.

I love (LOVE!) my baby girl, but sometimes I would just die to have a rainy Sunday where I can lie on the couch and watch crappy TV. Where I can take lots of naps whenever I want. Where I can go to hot yoga on a whim and not have to plan it around feedings and someone else's schedule. Where I could go to Keegan's Pub for lunch and have a beer and some Shepard's Pie. Basically, where I could be a free agent once more.

Then endless Onward, ho! part of being a parent is so exhausting. There is no end! NO END! From the time I got pregnant, and especially from the time she was born, my life has been hurtling forward and is punctuated by feedings, naps and diaper changes. Yes, there are hours away from her and even nights. Yes, there are vacations coming up. But those are just tiny pauses. Blips, really. The bigger picture is one of always attending to someone else and putting a lot of my own wants on hold. And so we long for an Anna to come and give us a break on the weekends. Time to do whatever it is that our heart desires.

But there is no Anna in our life. No maid. No nanny. Just us. This doesn't stop Husband and I from continuing to ask each other, at least once a week, "Where's Anna?"

Here we have Husband dismayed this morning to find that Anna was not hiding in the trees on our walk. (Bella is dismayed that her daddy is wearing the same sweatshirt he has worn for the past 200 Sundays.)

Of course, all this "Where's Anna?" business must be countered with the fact that I wouldn't have my life any other way and I'm so darn lucky to have this life. It really is a good thing that there isn't an Anna. That way we are the ones who are forced to get off our butts and go outside for a walk. We get to laugh at the playground. We get the privilege of time with our baby. We are the ones living a real life, instead of watching someone else live their life on TV.

But still...sometimes I do miss the days when a Project Runway marathon was the only thing that I accomplished on a Sunday.

I'm so excited...

Here is what awaits me tonight after Bella is sleeping and Husband has left to meet up with his friends.


Woo hoo! An anti-social night complete with a rom-com and a cupcake. Good times, good times.

The Simple Life

I didn't know that the flowers around our townhome sparkle in the sunlight à la Cullen Family. I didn't know that there even were that many flowers around our townhome complex. I didn't know that ants crawl all over the place or that dragonflies land on the hostas. I didn't know that there were approximately 30 pinecones in our driveway at any given time. I didn't know that so many planes pass overhead. I didn't know that hundreds of dandelions bloomed in the park nearby in the spring. I didn't know that so many birds crossed my path each day. I didn't know about all the dogs, either.

I didn't notice a lot of things until there was a little person to point them out to me.

More Weekend Pictures

On Sunday we headed to the Sculpture Garden in Minneapolis with Sister.





One must take advantage of any senior-picture opportunity that life presents, even if you are in the unfortunate fashion state of wearing a tankini under your clothes.