My cutie pah-tootie

How DO you spell that? Cutie patooty? Cutie Patewtie? Does pah-tootie qualify as onomonopeia? These are the questions my mind wrangles with on a daily basis.

But that's not really the point I'm trying to make. Sorry to distract you from...the bragging I'm really on here to do. I made Maeve a hat. See image to the right. See the image, but don't believe it. Maeve is a pro at taking it off. It took two adults and about 12 attempts before we got this winner of a shot.

Soak in the joy. Even if she doesn't like my hat, she is pretty freaking adorable.

Eddie Munster Look Alike Contest

Happy Halloween (Early). Not sure who all will get this reference, but the similarities are undeniable. Eddie Munster, meet my Maevie Monster!

Guess What?

Guess What? Chicken Butt. Yep, I got you. How'd that make you feel? A little dumb, a little silly? Well, welcome to last night at 3am.

It was dark and cozy under the sheets. I'm a side sleeper and I was flipping over when I heard an enthusiastic voice next to me ask, "Guess what?"

Guess what? Um it's 3am, that's what. I don't know! Why are you making me guess something in the middle of the night!? Seriously, what could I possibly need to know right now? And how am I supposed to guess it without any pretext?

Now might be a good time to tell you that my husband is a sleep-talker. He has said a wide variety of things in his sleep. These include: "Golf!" and "adopt a baby" (during my pregnancy). So, it occured to me that he might be sleeping. But what if he wasn't? He was pretty articulate....

About ten seconds passed since the original question was asked, so I answered, "What?" And then I wait.

And I wait.

And I wait. No answer. Nada. He's out cold. (How does he do that!?) He was totally asleep! And I felt a little dumb and a little silly for answering. But it does make you want to try it out, doesn't it? Just to mess with your partner a little bit...

Last words

Have you ever thought about what your last words to someone would be if you never saw them again? This thought occurs to me periodically. After a deluge of rain makes driving somewhat perilous, I wonder what if I don't make it home? What will be the last thing I said to Scott, to my parents, my siblings, my friends?

Most people depart for work or the store, etc by saying "I love you" or "See you later" or "Have a good one" or even "Take Care." The other morning, I had a different goodbye experience. Let me paint you a picture...

It's a grey morning, some remnant fog is still hanging in the air. Scott is scurrying around our apartment getting the last of his things into his bag for school. We have a brief kiss, a "love you! have a good day. I'll see you tonight" exchange. Maeve and I stand on the porch since it is warm out and watch him hop into the car. Then...he pulls a k-turn. School is now in the opposite direction. He rolls the window down (okay, he powers the window down. I mean who "rolls" anymore, right?) and yells out to me,

"Look at this bird poop! What the hell is wrong with this bird? He must have had avian diarrhea. Sheesh."

And up the window goes. And off he drives. I puzzle as his tail lights disappear. I certainly hope this romantic sentiment is not the last thing that will be said between us. These words, regardless, may live in infamy. Thank you ever so much for sharing, darling. I will love you forever, too.

Blog FAIL

Sigh.

I haven't written anything since August 16th. I wish I could say I have been exceedingly busy, but honestly, I just put it on my procrastination list. I made some dinners, visited with some friends, did the laundry, changed a LOT of diapers. I found lots of things to do to avoid writing. And thus, here we are. How am I ever going to write a novel!?

Well, my short reflection for the day is about Maeve (shocker). Scott and I have decided that living with her is like living with a raccoon. She chews on everything, tears any piece of paper she can find into a thousand pieces, knocks things over, chews on wires (or attempts to anyway) and God help us if we try to have a quiet cuddle moment. Those fierce feet are kicking whatever they can make contact with and her hands generally use our faces - and particularly my ears for whatever reason - as handles to climb up on our heads. She is on the verge of crawling, truly on the very cusp, and then we, the Raccoon Ranglers are really in trouble.

Not Ever'body a Diva, Kelly

The weather has been hot lately. Duh, it's summer. I know. But it has been REALLY hot. And we were all getting a little bit feverish (the cabin kind) so we headed out to the mall to do a few laps in the AC. It was refreshing, in many ways.

We took in the latest fashions mostly from the storefronts. We also took in way too much cologne courtesy of Hollister. (Where is the market research that says if you gag passerby's they will be sure to enter in order to further smother their olfactory sense? Ugh.) But we did go into Old Navy because we had a Groupon that was going to expire relatively soon.

We'd gone before to Old Navy and I just couldn't find anything I wanted. I've turned into that mom that would rather buy adorable clothes for my baby than try anything on myself. While that is noble on some levels, it's rooted in the fact that my body has changed and I lack the desire to either whip it back into shape or accommodate the changes.

Sigh.

But I needed jeans. It was unavoidable. And though I had passed on them saying I didn't like any of the styles, Scott thoughtfully went over to the jeans department and found a pair, that I could not deny, met all my qualifications. So, I was headed to the fitting room. There, I met Deena.

Deena was a fabulous lady. She fawned over Maeve (who doesn't?). She chatted up Scott while I tried the jeans on. And she gave her very honest opinion when I came out. And came out. And came out. In all, I was in and out of the fitting rooms three times. And I don't mean the room itself. I went back to the floor and came back to the fitting rooms three times. By the third time, she saw me coming and said, "You're back again? I got you, Kelly. Here you go. First door on the right." So, when I came out in a pair of jeans, I had a very supportive ally ready to help, (in ADDITION to my wonderful husband).

Deena: "Oh, girl. Those look nice."

Me: "Thanks...but I'm not sure..."

Scott: "What don't you like?"

Me: "I don't know. They fit at the waist, and we can hem the length, but...I don't know"

Deena: "Are they the Diva cut? Or the Dreamer? I can't do the Skinny. Oh, my. Lord, no. No, skinny for me. But you look good in them Divas, girl. You know, not ever'body a diva, Kelly."

You can say that she was just trying to make a sale, but she doesn't get commission on a pair of jeans.

So, I did buy those jeans.

And I do look good in them. (No, I'm not posting a picture.)

Thanks, Deena! And thanks, Scott, for your shopping savvy and perseverance. I know I don't make it easy but I hope I look like a (low-maintenance) Diva on our next hot date!

Stink Face

This is my beautiful daughter.

I'm not exactly sure how this evolved. But I'm pretty sure I encouraged it. It's hilarious. She snorts through her nose in short, quick gasps as she puckers her lips and wrinkles her nose. It's a hilarious juxtaposition of her adorable exterior with her emerging feisty personality.

What's not to love?!

Stiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiink Faaaaaaaaaaaace...

Kudos to My Harris Teeter Hero

It's always my luck. Somehow bugs just know how to find me and make me look like a total spaz in public. So, today's blog goes out to the nameless (and fearless) grocery store clerk who rescued Maeve and me. Here's how the story goes:

Maeve was asleep in her car seat so I knew I had limited time to get in and get out before she woke up hungry. As I walked in and put her car seat in the front section of our cart, I noticed a rather large dragonfly bouncing around the glass windows by the door. I remember thinking, "phew! Glad I will be in and out of this vestibule to avoid that guy."

So, I grabbed my cart and headed for the produce section. When I arrived, I tested a few different cantalopes until I found one with appropriate squishy-ness (is that a word? probably not. you know what I mean). I headed back to the cart to place it inside and there was a giant (creepy!!) Praying Mantis on the inside of my cart!!! It's head slowly (calculatingly) turned to take me in. The thing had to be 4 inches, easy. It was brown - I thought they were green! why is it brown!? - and it had scary spiked front legs. Ew, ew, ew!

If you need more visual confirmation of their threatening presence, peep this: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mantis

Let's recap: at one end of my cart is a beautiful, peaceful sleeping baby and at the other a malicious insect rabid for baby blood (well, you can't prove it wasn't). What would you do? I did what any mother on her own would do in that situation. I grabbed the first store clerk who was close enough to hear me yelp in panic. The yelp went something like this:

Me: "(high-pitched) Aah...excuse me, sir?"

Sir: "Pete, we need more lettuce in the...yes?" (he redirects his walk to head in our direction)

Me: "I'm terrified of bugs and there is a huge praying mantis on my cart."

Sir: "Where?"

Me: "There. [He (valiantly) grabbed it around the belly and walked off.] Oh, thank you! Thank you!"

Sir: "Yup."

My knight in shining armor! My very busy knight in shining armor...that headed toward the lettuce section and not the front door or back room to dispose of his new friend. Should I be concerned that the mean mantis might make a home in the salad section? No. I will not. I trust that the knight disposed of the creature in a manner befitting its reputation. But I might stay away from the greens for a week or two, just in case.

And thus concludes yet another story where bugs make me look like a complete and total idiot in public. True. Story.

Absence

Helloooo. I am sorry for the radio silence! We made an impromptu visit to our Ohio relatives and spent a long weekend up there. We're back now and I have lots to catch up on. But the good news is that I have a bunch of ideas for future posts, so I will hopefully be able to post for the next several days. Until then, enjoy this photo of Maevie in the pool. She LOVED the water!!

Best Cook Ever

I have been making a concerted effort to make as much of Maeve's baby food as possible. And I have to say: I absolutely LOVE doing it.

This feeling has nothing to do with the health or financial benefits traditionally associated with preparing baby food at home. I love it because I feel like the best. cook. EVER.

I boil or steam fruits and vegetables and then throw them in our Magic Bullet. (It is soooo magic). There is no seasoning, no broiling, no turning or basting halfway through. I don't have to chop up anything pretty or reserve any for garnish. With a full-swing foodie revolution going on, making Maeve's breakfast and dinner couldn't be easier and it's a serious ego boost. Nature does all the work and Maeve scarfs it down.

I boil. I blend. I win.

Raspberries

My gorgeous daughter loves raspberries. Not the red, delicious summer treat that is just out of season now. The kind where you purse your lips together, stick your tongue through the middle and blow.

It was cute. For a while.

Now, she does it almost constantly. And since I'm home alone, I've tried to make it entertaining by asking her some of the questions that might plague me on a given day.

Me: "Maeve, what do you think about the long term prospects for resolving our debt crisis?"

Maeve: (raspberry)

Me: "Brazil seems to have a pretty casual attitude about its infrastructure problems with both the World Cup and Olympics coming in the next 5 years. Do you think they'll be ready?"

Maeve: (raspberry)

Me: "Hey, the NFL Lockout is over. Are you excited about this season?"

Maeve: (raspberry)

Me: "Knowing what we know now, would you ever rob Alex Trebek?

Maeve: (raspberry)

Me: "Yeah. Me, either."

First Post!

So, where to start? Goals? Hmm, goals. Basically, writing a novel is on my bucket list and I felt I needed some practice. And at the moment, I'm a stay-at-home mom so I need a hobby. Badly. Enter...blogging.

I have a beautiful daughter who does loads of hilarious stuff and my husband makes me laugh just about everyday. I think that humor is in how you see things and I'd like to think I have pretty funny outlook. I hope this blog serves as an outlet for me that provides some entertainment for others. That's how I roll.