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Archive for June, 2011

I’ve become much less detail oriented in my old{er} age, in my role as a mother and/or maybe just because I can never think straight. I still have a keen eye for detail about certain things – like grammar, my work, and most things pertaining to Molly. I used to be a stickler for cleanliness, but I’ve learned to let the house go a bit; no magazine is ever going to feature my home on its pages, and, if by some chance, BHG or Southern Living called me to feature my charming cottage of a home, they would send a designer AND I would have advance notice to purge and clean before the photo shoot. Molly doesn’t like it when I run the vacuum cleaner, and I’m certainly not getting up to do it before she’s awake. And anytime I entertain the idea of wiping down the kitchen cabinets or dusting under my bed, Molly wants me to sit on the couch with her and really, who could resist that?

It has been a long-running joke between Jim and myself that I would buy the exact same thing at the grocery store every week, regardless or whether we need it or not. This is for two reasons, mainly: 1) I *hate* going to the grocery store and 2) I don’t really cook, so I have no idea what we need or what’s been used. Years ago, I needed to make pralines for a school event. Jim sweetly offered to help, so I showed up to his house with a bag of ingredients and a recipe. He took one look at the recipe and asked, “What is this?”

“That’s the recipe for the pralines,” I casually replied.

Jim responds with a shake of his head and starts up the stairs to his office. “Where are you going?” I asked.

“To look up a REAL recipe,” he called over his shoulder.

“What’s wrong with the one I just gave you?”

He told me there was no way the pralines would turn out because he had no idea how much of each ingredient to use. I had not written down the measurements. I usually don’t. Which I guess explains why most of my culinary experiments end up in the trash can and Jim, for the sake of saving money and sanity {his and mine}, does a lot of the cooking at our house.

Another example: I recently ordered a valance and roman shades for the family room. I measured the inside width and length of the side windows and outside the moulding of the picture window for the valance. I measured three times in order to purchase the fabric and give the woman making the window treatments the correct measurements, because I’ve lived with my husband long enough to know that he would NOT be pleased if those window treatments didn’t fit. When we hung the shades a few weeks ago, Jim steps onto the step ladder and says to Molly, “Let’s see how well Mommy measured the windows.”

I am pretty sure he almost fell off the ladder when they actually fit.

But anyway, the point of these stories is that Molly is a nice mix of Jim and me: she is actually particular about all of the things Jim is AND she is particular about my items of interest, too. So technically, I don’t know how nice that will actually be, all of us living together in this house, but I digress. Last week, she was playing with her laptop, “working like mommy.” We point to the letters and pictures on the keys and she’ll name them. Last week, she actually called the bird on the V key a vulture, but she still calls the oak on the O key a tree. One at a time, I guess. Jim then points to the B key and asked, “What’s that?”

“An orange bug,” Molly replied.

“A bee,” I said.

“Orange bug.”

And you know what? She was right. That bug didn’t look a thing like a bee – or at least any of the bees in all her books or on her bug puzzle. So there. Jim and I cracked up at her confidence in her answer and the fact that she should be confident. She was right, after all.

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This past weekend, Jim and I were excited to make a trip to Wrightsville Beach/Wilmington for Jane and Mike’s wedding. While I love any wedding, this one was particularly fun because Jane asked Sweet Birdie’s Nest to create the invitations, programs, menus, table cards and escort cards. Be sure to check out the SBN blog sometime this week to see pictures of everything! When we got to Wrightsville Beach Friday night, Jim and I checked into the hotel and headed straight out to dinner. Crystal recommended a great seafood place on the waterway, so we didn’t even consider any other options. We had a cold beer and too much food at our table right on the water. Saturday, we went to the wedding mass, then grabbed lunch and headed to the beach for a few hours with Kelly, Matt, Lauren, Dan, and Declan. Finally, we went in to get ready for the reception. We have a few more weddings coming up over the next year and I always look forward to a fun night with friends.

I almost forgot to ask someone to take a picture of us! Jim and me at Janie and Mike's reception.

My mom kept Molly for us at our house while we were gone and of course they had a blast. We tried to Skype with Molly on Saturday and she wasn’t at all interested in talking to us. It sounds like she and Nana played outside in Molly’s new wading pool and did a lot of swinging. Thanks, Mom, for keeping Molly while we were away!

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After two mornings of sleeping in and taking my time getting ready, it’s back to reality this morning. Every piece of play food and all of the puzzle pieces were scattered all over the house by 8:30 this morning. It’s a good thing Molly is so fun and cute. I missed her a lot while we were gone and didn’t mind the mess, even when I stepped on the puzzle pieces in my bare feet.

And just to prove that it isn’t always chaotic at our house, here is a a calm moment, caught on {digital} camera:

Every once in a while, Peaches will retreat to her rocking chair with her blanket and a book. She’ll just rock and sing and read. This might buy me about 6 or 7 minutes of quiet, or half a shower. I need to get quicker at that whole showering thing, but I’ve never been quick. Just ask my parents!

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And finally, Lauren and Drew had their baby – Thomas McKinley; they’re going to call him Mac. I knew she’d have him while I was out of town and sure enough, she did. And now I’m sick, so I can’t even go meet him yet.

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This is what happens when you tell your toddler that you will go outside in “just one more minute…” one too many times.

If you’re wondering what I was doing {besides taking her picture} that was SO important, find out here!

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I get obsessed with a certain song and want to keep my iPod on repeat – I just did this on Friday night when I was making dinner {the problem is now that I can’t remember what song it was that I had to hear over and over again…}. As a teenager, I would put my CD player on repeat, turn up the volume, and sing as loud as I could to the same song, over and over again.

These days, conversations with Molly seem like they’re stuck on repeat. Last week, Molly and I were in the car on the way home from Beverly’s and had a *very* interesting conversation. It actually started before we even left Beverly’s, because we had misplaced her milk cup {if misplaced means IN PLAIN VIEW, but you know…life’s crazy} and Molly really, really needed that milk for the trip home. I finally found it and Molly was pleased until she had drank the entire cup before we were out of the neighborhood.

Molly: “Milk allll gone.”

Me: “Oh, no…we’ll get some more when we get home. You were really thirsty.”

Molly: “Milk allll gone. Water?”

Me: “Your water is in the back of the car, in mommy’s back. I can’t get it because I’m driving.”

Molly: “Milk alll gone. No water. Milk?”

Me: “It’s all gone, remember?”

Molly: “Yeah. Milk allll gone. Water?”

Me: “No water. I can’t reach it while I’m driving. No milk, no water.”

Molly: “Milk alll gone. Water in back.”

There are a few moments of silence. Then…

Molly: “Milk?”

Me: “It’s all gone.”

Molly: “Milk allll gone. Water?”

It took us 27 minutes to get home from Beverly’s. I did not count, however, the number of times I heard “milk,” “water,” and “all gone,” but I continued to hear that conversation in my sleep, hours later. No song, truck, or train could distract my determined daughter. It’s almost as if she thought that by asking a gabillion zillion times that milk or water would just appear. Believe, if I could have produced them for her, I would have. I was *thisclose* to pulling into a Taco Bell drive-thru to see if they had milk.

And to think how anxious I was for her to be able to communicate with us.

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Tot Style

Peaches has style. The girl knows what she wants and doesn’t hesitate to make it happen, and she never worries what others think of her. Maybe she’s just to busy for clothes. I don’t know, but it’s 100% entertaining and 100% exhausting to make this kid ready for public view. This morning, I was *thisclose* to dropping her off at school in a pajama top and diaper. I finally wrestled got some clothes on her, but she still went in to her classroom with just one shoe.

These are some of my favorite outfits of late:

Notice the unkempt hair? Some days, a comb can be very, very scary.

Pajamas? Check. Rain boots? Check. Bib? Check. This girl is ready for anything!

What? This isn't appropriate for a playdate? With a boy?

And finally, this picture makes me laugh out loud:

Maybe she thought she'd be cold in the pool?

Oh, my.

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If you want to see how the deck re-do is coming, check here!

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Years ago, a Friday night would have consisted of Happy Hour, dinner out, and a late, late bedtime, knowing we could sleep in the next morning. While we’re fortunate to have some Friday nights like that on occasion, most of our Friday nights look more like last night:

Waiting on the cable guy to arrive, drinking a cold beer, chatting with the neighbors, running around with Molly, cooking dinner at home, reading bedtime stories and saying night time prayers, and watching mindless television.

While Jim was outside last night working on our new deck and Molly was falling asleep in her room, I was making ravioli with squash and zucchini, singing out loud to Zac Brown Band and Kenny Chesney on my iPod. I love nights like that, when I *know* that my life is exactly what I wanted it to be and I am simply speechless with the love that exists in my house.

I’ll take that kind of Friday night any night.

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I can’t believe another week is almost over. I can’t believe we’re creeping up on mid-June. Seriously, where does┬áthe time go?

Molly and I enjoyed our week together; she continues to challenge the boundaries we set for her, which is very trying for her and us, but I know it’s part of the process of growing up. We made a trip to the pediatrician on Wednesday so he could take a look at a rash Molly has on her face and at her awful diaper rash. Thankfully, the issues aren’t related. While we were waiting on Dr. H to come in the room, MJ kept climbing onto the child-size chair, standing up and trying to pull herself onto the counter. I repeatedly put her feet back on the floor and firmly said, “No.” This happened, oh, I don’t know, a ZILLION times. Just when I was getting ready to put the chair on top of the counter so she couldn’t climb into it, Dr. H walks in. He gets a few swift kicks during the exam and Molly really lets the crocodile tears flow. While the doctor is talking to me about our course of action to clear up the rashes, he gives Molly a tennis ball to play with and tells her, “Molly, I’m talking to your mommy. Play with this ball or look at your book.” She obviously doesn’t care that we’re having a conversation because she throws the ball at Dr. H.

Lovely.

I was only slightly less mortified than I would have been in any other situation since I’ve known Dr. H for 30 years.

Later that day, we got together with Graham and Jessica. While I was in California, our new media console arrived in a huge box. {And by arrive, I mean that my dad and Jim picked it up.} One night, Jim had stayed up too late and made Molly a house out of the box. This thing has been a hit, and Molly had a blast showing it off to Graham.

how cute are they?!

I have many more adventures to share from the week, but I’ll save them for another day. Want to read about my trip to Santa Barbara? You can do that here!

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