the part of the weekend that made the rest worth it

So my blog is quickly becoming Lu updates.  I'm okay with that!
She's engaged and I am oh so happy for her.

(Check the photoblog sometime soon for more pics.)

Remember how that guy almost called Child Protective Services?
Good times.

I want my brain back.


I was not going to lose my mind after I birthed the Goblin.  I've heard from various women that it happens, but of course it won't happen to me, I'm different, yadda yadda.

Well I forgot some Very Important Items while packing for my little trip including, but not limited to: cell phone charger (with a nearly-dead phone), baby bathsoap & medicine, extra blankets, enough diapers, a decent memory card, tripod and "reflectors."
20 diapers in 36 hours?!!

I also Pricelined a hotel that turned out to be more expensive than if we had just found one on our own because I was running around like a crazy person, trying to pack while my baby screamed and/or slept in the swing.

During the drive I turned off the phone for a while, hoping to make the battery last longer.  Behold, my cell phone battery is a battery of wonders and verily, it lasted until the trip home today.  Amen.

Yesterday my main camera battery died just when I was getting set up and I couldn't get the memory card to work. (Of course!)  So I ran back and forth between the car and the park several times, left my keys on a tree branch - a tree branch?! - found an Office Max while looking for a Walmart and bought another card, while Lu and Dustin watched my baby.

Behold, my baby is a baby of wonders and verily, he slept through the ENTIRE frantic setup, photo shoot and subsequent drive back to the hotel.  But he used up all his Sleep Cash, so by nighttime he was bone dry.

It seems the child doesn't like to sleep in hotels or to be away from home, period.  So after two terrible nights I threw in the towel and we headed for home.  Forget the Tanger Outlets, Shabby Apple garden sale, car auction, GOLF TOURNAMENT.  I didn't get to watch Slice play at all.

I might have stayed, if I had brought my cell phone charger and more diapers along.

This damage is irreversible, isn't it?


Open Sesame

This weekend Slice is playing in this:

and you can watch the live scoring (if you so wish) here.

I'll be heading down today to watch a bit -he'll play at least three 18-hole rounds-
 take some pics, visit with Lu, and possibly do some shopping.

(Vehicle shopping?)

Good luck Slice baby!



I was born on the first day of my dad's last year of law school, twenty-three years ago.  I was the fifth child of what would become twelve.

The older (/wiser) I get, the more I realize just how much my parents had to sacrifice for their children.  Ambitions, living space, new shoes, clean rooms, sleep.  People talk about the "poor years" where a young couple is just finishing up school and may or may not be starting their family, and they go without a lot of things .... I think my parents have been in "poor years" their entire lives.

But the richness!

My son laughed at me for the first time today.  It was the best birthday present ever.

(Replacing all those things in my list ... 'cause I didn't get any of them.)



It's been said before and probably will be again ... but we just cannot get enough of this kid.

(especially when he sleeps through the night!!)


Next time

I think I'll donate my hair two months AFTER I have a baby.

Then I won't have to watch all my hair fall out.


Me as a mother

Pseudonym-er. We don't call the baby Liam, except occasionally in reference to the blog.  That's his bloggy name.  Just in case you were wondering.

Broken record. I catch myself repeating everything I say to him.  I'm my own echo!  Sweet!

Identification Sympathizer.  Every time I burp Liam, I burp myself. (sorry, TMI?  does this happen to anyone else?)
  (Also, have any of you seen The Disorderly Orderly?)

Washer Woman.  I am so so sooooo glad we have a washer/dryer downstairs.  I am doing laundry pretty much every other day.

Television junkie.  We only have one car and Slice often works 14-15 hour days.  And, there's not much I can do while I'm nursing.  So I know what shows are on, when.  Including Tyra.
This is a tragedy, I KNOW.


Henry VIII needed a little dose

The birth order in my family goes like this:

girl - boy - girl - boy - girl - (two adopted boys) - boy - girl - girl - boy - boy

And the oldest children of the children (so far) go like this:

Girl 1: boy - girl
Boy 1: girl - boy
Girl 2: boy - girl
Boy 2: girl - boy
Girl 3: boy

Furthermore, the birth order of ALL the grandchildren goes like this:

boy - girl - boy - girl - girl - boy - girl - boy - boy - girl - girl - boy - boy
Liam tipped the scales 7:6 in favor of boys.

I've never known a more evenly-distributed family.  Eh?



If you don't use Google Reader and you checked this site within the last ... oh ...  18 hours, you may have been confused.  Somehow a post from almost two years ago popped up as the newest post.  Sorry!


Blessing Day

Slice blessed Liam on Sunday.  It was beautiful.
We missed all of you who couldn't come, but were so grateful for those who did.

You may notice that Liam is in three different outfits.

(NOT my choice!)


UBIC 2010

Last weekend we did it again.  But this year there was a tennis tournament organized by Dann.  Slice played both singles and doubles; I took pictures and cheered him on.
(He didn't win.)

Saturday morning parade, complete with pictures of Sam, Liam slept until the noisy trucks drove past.  Then he was fussy the rest of the time.

That afternoon we had a Class Reunion, which was fun until we got rained out.  Some of us decided to go on a BH reunion cruise next May.  Then we went bowling.

Saturday night was the Patty Loveless concert and grand fireworks at the park.  Liam was asleep again, so Slice and I left our families on the front lawn and ran -RAN- to the same place we always watch the fireworks, only to find that of all our friends who pledged to come to the same spot every year, none of them actually did.
(Doesn't that sound so like second-grade girls?)
At least the baby stayed asleep.

Liam sleeps
awesome fireworks
Jean runs for the first time in probably a year, and pays for it the next day
no friends

Any suggestions on a cruise?


fresh from the 5-year High School reunion

I've been pondering on this for an embarrassingly long time, so humor me please:

It seems I am a Hit-and-Run person.

What is a "hit-and-run person?"  Why, it's a term I just made up.  You know those people who you went to school with and got to be pretty good friends, but you went separate ways and haven't spoken since Elementary/Middle/High School/Junior year of college?

Yeah, that's me.

I had a lot of really awesome friends in Middle School (that link was for you Leia), and when I moved to Roosevelt I was devastated, to say the least.  But I made some great friends in high school too.  They were mostly boys. 
(Maybe this is the main problem.)
Then I went to college and, as I've said before, I lived with twenty different girls.  I don't think any of them hated me?  I liked all of them!
At the end of my third year I started dating Slice and, as I've said before, the hometown homies shunned me.  

What the?  Is it Slice?  Is it me?  He is pretty antisocial sometimes, but I'm always happy to see or hear from old friends.  Maybe I just don't make enough visible effort.


I'm not bitter anymore, promise. It just makes me wonder if we never really were as good of friends as I thought ... or ... what is everyone else doing that I am not?  
How do you keep old friendships going?
Or do you?


I'm in Love

with them:

also this:

and this:



Banana Tree

Bananas are awesome. You can put them in cereal, crepes, bread, and pie. You can make ice cream sundaes and fruit smoothies with them. They transport easily and go with almost anything.

But here's the thing. Bananas are best eaten before they are ripe. That day-before hint of green is the sign of perfect timing. So if you buy a big bunch, and they all ripen at the same rate, you end up eating seven bananas in one day! Then you get sick of them.

Anyway, the problem could be solved if you went to the grocery store three times a week and bought a few almost-ripe bananas each time. But who wants to go to the grocery store three times a week? Not me, that's who. I pretty much hate grocery shopping.

I need a banana tree.