Tonight

Tonight we did the bedtime routine--race up the stairs, brush our teeth together (I wonder when brushing his teeth will stop being an incentive for Tycho to go to bed? Probably--hopefully--for as long as he uses that fluoride-free, yummy, fruity toothpaste that he can swallow), pajamas, family prayer, sing a slow song, and, finally, night night.

Tycho never had trouble with his graduation to the big boy bed. If anything, bedtime got easier when we got it six months ago. But, I always assumed that it took him awhile to go to sleep, that maybe he even got out of bed and messed around in his room or something (seems like something he would do).

Tonight, right after we put Tycho to bed, I went in our bedroom to get changed, turned on the light... and tripped a breaker. Then the search for the breaker box began. First thing, Jacob told me to look in Tycho's closet. My thoughts: argh, but we just got him in there and now he'll wanna get out and be part of the action! Wrong. I went in there not even two minutes after he went down and he was fast asleep. My opening the creaky closet and looking for the breaker box with a flashlight didn't wake him either.

HA! The kid takes after me! I've always been able to go to sleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. It's a gift.

Life

Yesterday I had a doctor's appointment (p.s. I have passed the 150-lb-mark and still gaining strong. Ugh. Went from 148 to 152 in two weeks. The nurse said it's okay to blame it on Labor Day eating. I like her.)

Everything is perfect/normal/right on schedule. Doc went over my chart a few times, asked me questions about everything, and then declared that I am a "model patient" and that maybe I should produce babies professionally. He was joking about that second part... I think.

He asked me if I'm going to breastfeed (chya!) and when I said "chya!" he got all excited and put one more check mark in the column that makes me his favorite patient. He told me that, for reasons unbeknownst to him, the percentage of mothers in Sherman who breastfeed their babies is significantly less than the average in the United States... only about ten percent! Let's get with the program, Sherman.

In other news, Endless Shrimp has started up again at Red Lobster, the very thing Jacob has been salivating over ever since... well, ever since it ended last year. So we are going today in celebration of the normalness of my pregnancy, because there has to be a celebration if we're going out to eat. I wonder how Tycho will fare this year? Because about this time last year, we went to Red Lobster with these lovely people, and we ladies ended up leaving the men to the endless eating to go outside with our boys so they would stop creating mayhem at the table. It was a good time all around.

Speaking of the little monster (and I mean that in the best way possible), Tycho officially has all the colors down pat! Now we are working on counting to ten. So far, you can say one number and he can tell you the next number in a consecutive manner, but only up to seven. For some reason seven and beyond is really hard to remember. Also, we found out that it's MUCH easier to get him dressed in the morning if we let him pick his own underwear and clothes. I took a picture this morning por ejemplo... just know that the outfit he picked this morning is actually tame and matches well compared to what he usually chooses. And, in case you wanted to know, he chose the Elmo underwear (who wouldn't?)

(jumping on the bed)

(he didn't feel like smiling for a proper picture after I took him away from jumping on the bed... can you blame him?)


p.s. Instead of hearing that I'm progressing normally, I'd rather hear, "Oh my goodness, I said your due date is November 9? I meant September 9! Let's get that baby out of you!" Oh, well, a girl can dream.

Oh, And Here's Some Pictures

This is what Tycho looks like when he gets scared watching the beginning of Monster's Inc (yes, every time we watch it, he gets scared):


Classic... covering the eyes, but leaving a space between the fingers so you can still watch. I did not teach him to do this, it came naturally.


Covering the mouth also works.


Folding the arms. He was actually saying "scary" as this picture was taken.


And this is just a cute picture that we took last week:

Just A Little Story

Rather than attempt to catch up about pregnancy, potty training, our anniversary, my birthday, my vacation, the recent trip to Houston, switching phone plans, the job hunt, and anything else I would have been able to drum up to write about had I felt like it, I'm just gonna tell a story. A Tycho story (is there any other kind?).

Today I came downstairs and saw Tycho... playing musical chairs by himself? I don't know what he was doing, but he had the chairs pulled out from the table and he was walking around and around, touching each one as he passed. He didn't see me watching him. I decided to see what would happen because it's not often that he plays by himself. He continued in this manner, humming to himself, and eating out of a yogurt cup (talk about multitasking!) until he accidentally spilled a little bit of yogurt on one of the chairs. He looked around... I thought he was looking around to see if anyone saw him spill it, but then I saw him notice a towel on top of the table and he got this "Aha!" look on his face. He stood there for a second (my guess is trying to figure out how best to get the towel), pushed one of the chairs back, and then used that chair to climb up on the table to get the towel. All of this while still holding the yogurt cup in one hand. He got the towel, realized he couldn't climb back down without a spare hand (remember, he's still holding the yogurt cup and now the towel as well), threw the towel on the ground, and then climbed down to retrieve it so he could clean up the spill. For some reason, this is remarkable to me. Not just how he did it, but the fact that he didn't go get someone to clean it up for him, or even just leave it there for someone to find later. Anyway, it was a dry towel and he made the chair all sticky by rubbing around the yogurt with the dry towel--I decided this was my queue to help him out, so I came in and helped him clean it up with soap and water. The whole scenario made me wonder if this is why I come across so many sticky things in my own home. Has he done this before? Who knows... but, if that is the case, then I'm glad my son is so awesome that I'm just coming across sticky things, rather than things with ignored, crusted-on, old food. Ah, tender mercies.

Dear Carolyn Viral Letter

Dear Carolyn: Best friend has child. Her: exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. Me (no kids): What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group ...

OK. I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners ... I do all those things, too. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail? I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events); I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy, but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth? Is this a contest ("my life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids and all us child-free folks have the same questions.

— Tacoma, Wash.


Dear Tacoma: Relax and enjoy. You're funny.

Or, you're lying about having friends with kids.

Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.

I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand, while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom-friends are either lying or competing with you, is disingenuous indeed.

So, because it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, cleaned, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries, questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys, and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces checkout-line screaming.

It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.

It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.

It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family and friends. It's resisting constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.

It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity. Empathy. Everything.

It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy, and then, when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend, a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you or marvel how much more productively she uses her time. Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.



I think this might have been a viral email of some sort for quite awhile, but I just barely came across it.

I'm not posting this to chastise people for thinking my life is all about relaxing. On the contrary, I don't think anyone I know has a problem understanding the above. BUT, I do think that the answer to Tacoma could not have had better wording, so I wanna keep it for my archives. Carolyn has it exactly right! Truly, it's like living another life besides your own, and battling someone the whole way. Which is exactly why I "need 45 minutes to do what takes others 15."

I AM posting this as a tribute to friends and family, to express my gratitude and appreciation for those who are satisfied with an email every once in a while. It's so much more convenient because I can start, pause, and stop an email whenever I want, whereas a phone call could last anywhere from 20 seconds to 5 minutes before Tycho's demanding my attention again.


p.s. And the third trimester begins... Getting excited! Can I still have a baby shower, even though it's baby #2? It's a different gender, that's gotta count for somethin.

Flattering and Inappropriate... But Isn't That How It Always Is?

Tycho and I spend a lot of our days at the pool. Fortunately, during the day, the pool is usually a hang-out place for kids under ten. Wednesday was the exception.

Yesterday we went to the pool in mid-afternoon. Instead of the usual crowd of kids, there were 7 or 8 adults (I'm using this term loosely... what I really mean is they were all at least 20 years old) messing around. I thought we'd be okay; it's not really necessary to have other kids around for Tycho to be entertained (he can entertain himself--the luxury of being an only child). However we only stayed for about half an hour. I decided it was time to go when one of the women almost lost her bikini top--a joke, I assume, and a false alarm, but I didn't want to stick around and wait for it to actually happen.

Long story short, we left, but there was a guy hanging out by the exit who was trying to flirt with me (I say trying because I think it takes two to flirt, and I was just trying to ignore him). Anyway, he ended up asking me if I was still with Tycho's father and being disappointed with my answer (YOU BET I AM!!). I'm not sure which I think is more trashy, that he was hitting on me when I had my child in tow, or that he actually asked that question. When I was walking away, I heard one of the girls from his group tell him that, obviously, the girl he was just hitting on is pregnant. He said he didn't care, that I looked good anyway.

So, I was disgusted, and yet... Is it bad to say that I was a little flattered? Sure, it was absolutely inappropriate, and why would I care what a guy like that thinks? I shouldn't enjoy affections like that, but... I AM a girl, and sometimes it seems my self-esteem depends on it. From a purely logical standpoint, I should be completely fulfilled knowing that my husband loves me and finds me attractive, but for some reason when other people say so, it gives an extra boost to my self-esteem.

But, for the record, I was completely disgusted.

Oh Where, Oh Where Has My Immune System Gone?

First, I got a cold. Not too bad... except that it took me a week and a half to get over it! Then, I got an ear infection, which I have never experienced before (except when I was a baby, which I do not count because I have no memory of it) and, boy, did that hurt! And NOW, I have these teeny tiny white bumps on my hands/fingers that itch like crazy!! This last one the doctor says is caused by stress and all three of them are due to a compromised immune system.

Yes, compromised. Suppressed. Weak. Because I'm pregnant. Because my body is changing to accommodate the baby. And, besides getting fat and cranky, apparently this means that my immune system is not up to par (so it does not reject this foreign object). Who knew? Not me, because nothing like this happened last time. Ugh. I've never had so many things go wrong with my body in the span of one month. Props to those who deal with this, and worse, all the time, because I would not be able to handle that.

On to a lighter subject, I am so glad my husband is on board with me not carrying Tycho for the remainder of this pregnancy. Sure, I'll still pick him up once in awhile as needed, but I'm not gonna carry him around the store if he doesn't want to walk, or give him a piggy-back ride around the neighborhood, you get the picture. These things are now reserved for Daddy. Technically, I'm not supposed to be lifting more than 15 pounds, and Tycho is almost 30 pounds, so there you have it.

This brings up an interesting topic, though. Here's the thing: Obviously, I want to be a good mom to Tycho. This means I probably shouldn't lounge around all day in my sweat pants while Tycho watches one barney video after another (although sometimes I feel like doing just that). BUT, I also want to be a good mom to my unborn little girl, so I can't overexert myself, which is exactly why I can't give Tycho piggy-back rides around the neighborhood. I have a feeling this is just the beginning of a million different situations in which the needs of little Mara (just seein how the name reads on paper) will clash with Tycho's needs.



And this, I address to my blog: Please bare with me through this job, because I spend all my free time on the computer doing at-home work, which I'm very thankful for, BUT it kinda makes me sick of typing and the computer in general, so there is little to no motivation to update you. Sorry, Charlie.

I Wish I Could Go Into Hibernation. Like Bears... Or Computers

Tycho was born on May 21. The first time he slept 8 hours straight through the night was July 4. I remember this because we had a family get-together and everybody wanted a piece of Tycho... he was alert and entertained for a big portion of the day. This is when I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Okay, so let's do the math. Six weeks and two days.

Six weeks. And two days.

Can't handle it. If I had a say, this baby would not come out. Ever.

Better yet, I wish I could store up sleep so that it won't matter when I'm only getting a couple hours of sleep at night. At least with Tycho I had the option to sleep during the day when he slept (still not enough sleep, but I'm sure I would take it and be grateful come November)... and now, it's because of Tycho that I do not have that option. Thanks, son, I love you too.

This revelation brought to you by the little poking and prodding from the inside that I started feeling today.

I Make Pregnancy Look Easy

I don't intend to, but I think I make pregnancy look easy. It's not. I think it's annoying when others complain (c'mon, suck it up, people!), so I try not to do it myself. Not complaining meshes well with my easygoing nature. There are those days, though, when I have to let it all out and ranting/complaining is the easiest way to do that. But the last couple sentences apply only in normal circumstances. Right NOW (and for the next several months), I feel like I'm more grouchy, complainy, burdensome, demanding, and all-around NOT easygoing.

Aside: Although I believe I have a right to blame my general bad attitude on hormones (because I'm not like this sans baby-in-my-uterus), I don't actually think it's hormones. Yes, hormones may cause horrible mood swings. BUT, if I were this fatigued, nauseated, fat, constipated, stressed, with tender and sometimes painful mammary glands, headaches, cramping, heartburn, itchiness (yes, itchiness), frequent trips to the bathroom, AND an aching back...? Why, yes, I think I would be most difficult to live with on a daily basis. Even without a parasite fetus growing inside me.

I FEEL like I'm more burdensome, but apparently I don't come across that way because Jacob brags to all other husbands-with-pregnant-wives about my pregnancies (first and second) being so easy. EASY? Of course there are several possible explanations for this. Maybe it's pride--he doesn't want people feeling sorry for him/me. Maybe it's a macho boasting thing--my wife's tougher than your wife. Or MAYBE he actually thinks it's EASY. I hope, for his sake, that it's not the latter.

What Happened?

What? Tycho turned two? How did we go from this:



To this??


(I used these pictures in honor of Tycho recognizing my dad in a picture and saying, "Papi!")

On account of birthday number dos, how 'bout I do a favorites list?

Tycho's Two Most Favorite...
T.V. Shows: Barney and Go, Diego, Go!
Books: Ten Little Monkeys and The Nose Book
Songs: Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and I'm Yours (Jason Mraz... what can I say, it's catchy)
Appendages: his feet!
Drinks: Milk and Apple Juice
Foods: French Fries and Cucumbers (actually, I should say ranch with a little bit of cucumbers on the side)
Sports: Soccer (duh) and Basketball (a new thing, since our apartment complex has a basketball court)
Stores: Books-A-Million (really just the play area in the bookstore) and Toys 'R' Us (given)
Toys: Cars and Balls
People: Mommy and Daddy of course! (off the record, we'd probably cross off Daddy and write in Tycho's favorite friend from church, April)

I have it on good authority (Ruth) that at age two Tycho should know 50 words, so here are 50 words that he says:
bite
more
bottle
cookie
hair
nose
mouth
car
outside
water
feet
toe
hands
head
arm
dog
mommy (my personal favorite)
bubble
eyes
bear
fishy
barney
daddy
color
paper
pants
shirt
teeth
potty
juice
milk
candy
spoon
snack
bunny
monster
green (can say other colors, but green is the only one he consistently recognizes correctly)
book
monkey
bath
push
go
yummy
cereal
jump
ball
trash
shoes
two (he knows that's how old he is and he knows it comes after one)
hat

Wow. That was surprisingly easy and fast to think of off the top of my head.

This past weekend we had almost everyone over. All grandparents, aunts, and uncles came and celebrated Tycho's birthday except Zach (in UT), Rachel (in MD), and Andy (bum). Just kidding about Andy; actually, he had to work. We played soccer, went to the splash pad/park, ate cupcakes, and opened presents (Tycho made out like a bandit). Pictures to come (I hope)--Sarah took all the pictures with her fancy camera.

P-A-R-T-Y?!??

Saturday night was the banquet for all of us Block people that stuck it out the whole season. It was...






















AWESOME!!!

Ruth and I met in McKinney and then drove to Southfork Ranch, home of the fictional J.R. Ewing. We got caricatures, ate a lot, talked a lot, and gambled the night away (fake money, of course).

Date Day!

On Friday I got out of work earlier than usual and Jacob was also done with school. We recognized this once-in-a-lifetime chance to go out alone together and decided to take advantage! We considered going to the movies because we don't get very many chances to do that, but our window of opportunity was pretty limited concerning movie selections, and then I had a brilliant idea.






YES! We went bowling. It was great. Talking, laughing, general good-time stuff, and it was cheap! I had forgotten that bowling is fairly inexpensive. Like $2.00 a game--less than going to the movies (even with matinee prices)! And the best part was...



I totally creamed Jacob.

Doing Taxes Is Seasonal Work

Today was my last day of work. Yesterday was the last day for everyone else in the office. I was just closing up shop today.

It was odd. I got that same sensation I did in high school when it was the last day of school. There are the people that you don't really say goodbye to or "have a good summer" because, well, you're gonna see them all summer. Then there are the people that were your friends, but not really good enough friends to hang out with outside of school (unless through a mutual friend or a party of some sort). What do you say to these people?

Anyway, that was the sensation I got. What do I say to these people? They were nice. We were even friends of sorts. But, let's face it, I won't see them again (except for maybe the 0.01% chance we stick around here and the even lesser chance that I'll come back and work for H&R Block next tax season).

So, we just shook hands, did the whole pleasure-working-with-you thing, exchanged phone numbers with one co-worker (we all know nothing will come of that), and that was it. Goodbye Henry and Richard Block tax services...

Forever.

Maybe.

Indication?

Today I was over at Melody's house, chatting, and one of her friends dropped by. She had her newborn boy with her! Actually, the baby wasn't a newborn, it was almost four months old, but it LOOKed like a newborn because it was a premie and only weighs nine pounds (!!!... when Tycho was four months old, he was closer to 15 pounds). So I got to hold the baby and...

Tycho did NOT like this. He tried to get me to hold him as well (while I was still holding the baby). And then when I said no he started to cry and pointed at the intruder (pour little baby Brody, didn't do anything wrong). Of course this made little Brody cry and I handed him back to his mom. Tycho was very clingy until we went home.

Is this an indication of how future events will play out? I should probably start reading up on how to get Tycho to adjust to a new baby. Oh, the joys of parenting.



p.s. Today was the last day of tax season!!!! I'm happy, but also blah because now I have to get another job.

Donut-Cake (Get it?)

If you really want to be inspired, see this post. If you want to hear a sad sad story about one of my many failures as a cook, keep reading.

It started out okay.

Batter tasted good (Aside: I'm surprised I haven't gotten salmonella yet, because I've eaten plenty of raw eggs in the form of cake/muffin/brownie batter in my time).


I don't have round cake pans, so I settled for one regular cake and figured it would turn out pretty much the same.


I made some icing (just some concoction of butter, milk, cocoa, and lots of powdered sugar). It was warm and delish.

Cake finished. Looked great. Stuck a fork in it and all that good stuff. Let it cool.

Took it to the counter and...



And my pregnant, hormone-infected body reared its ugly head. I cried. I HATE crying. Never do it if I can help it. Apparently hormones are stronger than willpower. But my cute son came over and hugged me and so did my cute husband and we picked up the pieces and attempted to reassemble the cake.

And, yes, we still ate it. Tasty. Even my husband thought so, who prefers brownies over cake any day.

If You Think Home-Schooling Is Nutty...

I read an article about kids being school-homed (raised in school, instead of at home). Many parents are finding creative ways to use public schools to take care of their kids for them, through after-school programs, extracurricular activities, or simply gross neglect. The justification being that a teacher can take care of 40 kids at once and yet this working mom can barely keep track of her only child, or that "more parents are finding that their homes are not equipped to instill the right values in their children." (ahem, talk about massive passiveness in that quote... it SHOULD read, "parents are NOT EQUIPPING their homes to instill, etc... Yes, parents, it's your fault. Let's be more active, shall we, and start blaming the real culprits...) Life skills such as proper nutrition and basic socialization apparently get neglected at home, and parents rely on educators to guide and nurture their kids.

Seriously?

Ridiculous.

Although, I did like the last sentence, and hope that school-homing parents will ponder:

"Though school-homing has proven to be an ideal solution for millions of uninvolved parents, increasingly overburdened public schools have recently led to a steady upswing in the number of students being prison-homed."


p.s. What is the world coming to?

Fun-Filled Easter Weekend

Loved General Conference.

Quote of the moment: "Any two can do anything, as long as one of those two is God."

Holland was intense, Bednar was great (as always), Prez Monson talked like all 12 million people watching were in his own living room just having a chat with an old friend (so easy to listen to). The theme according to me? Family. Duty to, relationships with, challenges concerning, etc. But the inspiring eight hours of wonderful are over... until six months from now anyway.

Our celebration of Christ rising from death: pictures probably make it seem commercial, but thanks to family prayer, reading scriptures, and testimonies shared, it was wonderful both spiritually and secularly. We had an Easter-egg hunt, Easter baskets, colored eggs, and made egg-salad sandwiches with the colored eggs. Tycho loved every minute. And I loved Tycho loving every minute. The festivities lasted until 10pm Sunday when we came back to reality (a.k.a. Sherman).


















Side note/car update: ran the car out of gas completely, so air and other assorted things got in the pump. My lovely genius-of-a-husband got it all cleaned out and fixed and I dedicate this post to him cuz, without him, the above awesomeness would not have been!

Spoke Too Soon

I guess I jinxed it with my last post. The car won't start!! Can't get to work and, more importantly, if we don't get it started we can't go to Fort Worth! ARGH. Seriously bummed right now.

Party It Up, Conference-Style

Easter/General Conference weekend people!! And we Morrills are hitting up F-dub, which I'm surprised my husband agreed to since we went there just 2 weeks ago. BUT the Stephens Clan didn't get to see Tycho last time, so this is a great opportunity. This weekend = Saturday sessions of GC, coloring eggs and lunch in between, then Easter egg hunt and barbeque in the backyard, and, of course, assorted board games. It's gonna be fun for real. Andy's not working, Pops isn't working, so everyone's gonna be home chillin' with us. So excited!

Oxymoron

So, Jacob and I have kind of started an exercise routine. I say kind of because my attempt is sorta half-hearted--I don't think many doctors approve of purposely (purposefully?) losing weight during pregnancy. Half-hearted, maybe, but also supportive.

Jacob's planning on being back to his old, fit self in about six months. He wants to be back where he was when he got his physical for ATC school. He was around 160 or 165, playing soccer/reffing pretty much every day, and working at a job that required walking/standing all day.

Oh, p.s., I say about six months because, let's face it, he won't be eating right, just working out every day. Healthy eating, I'm afraid, is not in the near future. He's not ready, or committed, to make such a life-style change.

Funny how he's choosing to do this when I'll only be getting fatter as the months pass. Not. Fair. Did I mention I'm being supportive?

We All Scream For...

Yesterday Jacob got home from school and said, "I should probably get a haircut."

!!!!!!

Needless to say, I took advantage of his moment of weakness and we went straight to... well, I'll just say it... Wal-Mart. Yeah, we went to Wal-Mart for a haircut. To quote Jim Gaffigan, "I knew [s]he was white trash." I also expect to be featured in a you-know-you're-a-redneck joke anytime soon. Oh, well, I'll get over it.

To celebrate The Haircut (it was so momentous, we have to capitalize it), we went to Braum's! On a side note, if we stay in Texas I am DEFinitely gonna keep up the tradition of going to Braum's to celebrate things, which is what my fam did growing up. Not only was this Tycho's first time to Braum's, but it was his first time to go out for ice cream! He had a great time, and he actually did surprisingly well eating his ice cream cone (nothing on his clothes and I only had to wash his hands and face!). We've been sorta ice cream deprived because our freezer shouldn't really be called a freezer, it should be called that useless-device-that's-not-much-cooler-than-the-fridge. We've been kinda back and forth with the landlord concerning this issue, but she maintains that it works perfectly. Who needs ice cream anyway? I do, and my desire for ice cream will only increase directly with the size of my tummy, but I digress. Pictures!








Two thumbs up for March 25.

Upgrade

When did I get this purse? Sometime in high school, or possibly even middle school, and I'm also pretty sure it was a hand-me-down from my mom.

Alas, this simple purse has lasted me through thick and thin. It has seen years of style changes. It has recovered from exploded pens, melted chocolate, spilled lotion bottles, and many an unwrapped peppermint.

And guess what? It's finally time for an upgrade.

Here was my list of qualifications when we went out Wednesday:
plain jane (no flashy logos or monograms or whatever)
be able to shove a book and a diaper in there, if need be
be able to close with all my normal things inside
pocket with a zipper
strap to hang my keys on
not too big
outside pocket for cell phone (so I don't have to dig through it)
durable (obviously)
structured, be able to stand up on its own, not topple over and spill out my things
a few organized compartments, not one big space

And here is the end product:

Here's to hoping this one has a life as long and useful as its predecessor.

Patience Is Nothing More Than Hiding Your Impatience

I am getting super stoked for this weekend! I am going to party like it's 1999!! Which is very fitting, because in 1999 I met my now-totally-awesome-best-friend Claire! So this post is a tribute to her awesomeness. She's a married chica now, to a tall, ball-cap-wearin, ultimate-frisbee-lovin engineer. But back in the day...

CLAIRE

gives the best high-fives,

is a total nerd (yes, that's a bowling ball),

is the most fun to play dress up with,

has the best smile,


is beautiful!


Seriously, look at those long, flowing locks.

Did I mention she's a total nerd?

She's modest...


Scratch that last one (j/k, Claire)


She's a winner,

a party animal,

has friends in high places... well, sorta.

She may have tried to kill me a few times, but...



...at least I'm not the only one.

LOVE THIS GIRL!!!

(weird, I'm on the left in almost all of these pictures... and btw, the pic on the bottom remains the only picture in existence that shows my chopped off finger recovery)