Archive for June, 2010

I borrowed a Shark steam mop Sunday and couldn’t wait to get home and try it out.  Jim and I were amazed (and slightly grossed out) by how much dirt it got off our floors.  I mop every week yet you wouldn’t know if from looking at the microfiber pads that you use with the Shark steam mop.

So, we went to Target and bought one last night.


We’re not going to the beach until the end of July, so while I’m counting down the days to our vacation, I decided to bring a bit of the beach to our house.  I was inspired by this Williams-Sonoma wreath I saw in the catalogue:

So I made one of my own using shells from my sister’s beautiful beach wedding and from my other sister’s huge shell collection that she made her husband smuggle into the U.S. in their suitcase after a vacation.

A clear hurricane vase filled with left over shells and a sea shell plate (on sale!  from Pottery Barn!) on the mantle complete the beach-y look I was going for.


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The best life

I love weekend mornings when we aren’t in a hurry to get out the door.  Jim, Molly, and I get to ease into our day and enjoy some much-needed family time.  Mornings like this serve as good reminders of how fortunate we are.

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Time flies

Last weekend, we celebrated Casey’s first birthday.  Her parents threw a fabulous party with lots of fun family and friends.  We had fun remembering last summer when Casey and Molly were born, and can’t believe a year has gone by already.  We took a time out from playing to get a picture of Casey and her mom, Jill, Molly and me, and Rae and her mom, Andrea.

Molly and me, Rae (21 months) and Andrea, Casey and Jill

This was what we looked like in September, at Rae’s first birthday party:

Really?  Who told those babies they could grow up?!

{Creating posts like this makes me feel really old.}

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Although Molly wrote a sweet post to Jim earlier, I couldn’t let the day go by without acknowledging MY dad and my husband.

I can only imagine what my dad’s life as a father has been like.  Three daughters.  That has to be trying and amazing in the best ways.  He’s a quiet man; I’m not sure if he’s always been that way or if it was learned behavior after having a wife and three girls.  However, when he has something to say, you should listen.  He is one of the wisest men I know, and he did a tremendous job (if I may say so myself) raising his daughters to be independent, thoughtful, and hard-working.  He’s realistic, but encouraging.  He’s powerful, but unassuming.  He can carry on a conversation with anybody, but he’s genuine.  He’s our Mr. Fix-it.  To this day, when something breaks or goes awry, I call my dad.

And in the way of the world, I didn’t fully realize how difficult and fulfilling it must have been to be my father until I had my own child.

And to my dear, sweet husband – it has been so fun getting to know you in your role as Molly’s dad.  You are such a devoted dad, and I know without a doubt that Molly is as lucky to have you for a dad as I am to have my dad.  Thank you for being a wonderful father to our daughter.

Happy Father’s Day, too, to Doug, Ben, and all of the other great dads we know.  Enjoy your day!

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Dear Dad,

Happy Father’s Day!

I love how you make me laugh when you’re changing my diaper.  Every morning, I love to peek out of my crib and see you looking back at me.  Thanks for feeding me oatmeal and fruit every morning and for giving me bottles on nights when Mom is teaching.  I love that you read books with me every night and tuck me into my crib, and I love that you don’t make me hold my lovey like Mom does.  You’re always prepared – from spare pacifiers in your pocket to a swift catch when I’m about to fall on my face.

Thank you for everything you do for our family.  You are a hard worker, but you play hard, too.  I appreciate the effort you put into making sure Mom and I have everything we need.

You’re the best.  Enjoy your day!



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This past weekend, we went to the lake with my family for one day.  ONE day.  We were gone 36 hours or so.  What used to be a simple overnight trip with a cooler, a bathing suit and some pajamas has turned into days worth of packing and a seriously loaded car.  Molly’s bag with multiple changes of clothes (which were ALL needed and I still could have use one more outfit), diapers, wipes, sunscreen, a few toys, food, more diapers, bath products, more food, swim diapers, bathing suits, the pack n’ play, the booster seat (Have you ever tried to feed a baby while she was sitting in your lap?  It’s not fun.  Hence the booster seat.), still more food, and oh, yeah – diapers.  The only thing that makes all of this ok is the fact that I used everything I packed for Molly.  She slept in the pack n’ play; ate the food in the booster seat; wore her bathing suits and pajamas and changes of clothes; played with some toys while were fixing breakfast, lunch, and dinner; took a bath after getting in the lake; and used every last diaper that I packed.

Me, on the other hand?  I definitely over-packed.  Hair dryer?  At the lake, with my family, for ONE day?

I’m a little worried that we need to rent a U-Haul for our week at the beach.

Regardless of the packing (or over-packing, if you will), we had an awesome weekend.  It wasn’t near as hot at the lake as it was at home, we ate like we were on vacation (M&M cookies and bacon-ranch dip, anyone?), and we spent a lot of time on the boats and strengthening our arm muscles trying to hang onto the tube and knee board.  (Has anyone ever wondered why they didn’t come up with the great idea to tie something to the back of a boat and get pulled around?  That’s genius, and whoever did come up with that has to be living well.)

As I was greasing Molly up for a day in the sun, I hear Benjamin laughing hysterically.  He said Molly looked so creamy.  “Why does she look so creamy, Heidi?” he asked.  “Well, Benj,” I said, “that’s what happens when you use an entire tube of sunscreen on a person who’s only two and a half feet tall.”

Thanks so much, Bev and Ben and Jackson, Benjamin, and Addison, for having us!

And if you ever have trouble getting your baby to sleep, just take her out on the boat.  Works every time.

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How do you know your waitress doesn’t have kids?

She brings a piping hot bowl of meatballs to your table, lifts it over your baby’s head, and sets it down right in front of the baby.  Then, after the baby has gripped the bowl and howled in shock at the temperature of the bowl, she says, “Oh, that’s hot.”


I mean, if Molly hadn’t burned her hand on the bowl she would have at least ended up with a bowl of sauce, meat, and cheese in her lap and on the floor.  Had the waitress really not noticed the three-foot, clutter-free radius in front of Molly?  Or seen Jim get up 23 times since ordering his drink to fetch some toy or piece of silverware that Molly has thrown across the room?  It’s not like we were the only people in the restaurant or anything.

Oh, wait – yes.we.were.

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