Vegas Bound

So tomorrow is the big day and I'm finally getting excited about my vacation. Better late than never, right?

My friend and I have some fun things planned while we are in Vegas...a show, dinner at a fancy resturant, of course some gambling, maybe a visit to the local cupcake shop, a trip to the resort salon, a heli ride, and a crap-ton of Starbucks. Maybe we'll get really brave and ride the coaster on top of the Stratosphere. I've seen it on Discovery Channel and it looks like a pee-in-your-pants kind of ride. I'm game.

I'm taking my big camera and plan to see how the built in stabilizer stands up to the jittery hands of an over caffeinated photographer.

Jet lag? No bigs.

My biggest concern now is going through the 'naked' scanner at the airport. Nothing like having your privacy utterly violated right before a vacation. It's either that or have the junk-touching TSA goons get really friendly with your lady parts. Hmmm, let me see....I can have a dozen strangers SEE my body as I go through the scanner or I can have 2 strangers TOUCH my body. I prefer neither but guess the naked scanner is less offensive.

How to eat your first ever Oreo..

Step 1: Unscrew the lid and slobber all over the filling.



Step 2: Offer soggy cookie to mommy.



Step 3: Incredulous that she didn't want any, proceed to gobble it down, making sure to get gooey crumbs all over your face.

I need a vacation....or do I?

Either way, I'm taking one. My friend and I are going to Vegas to celebrate her birthday.

It's a girls-only trip so John and Bean are staying home. I do hate vacationing without my family. I can't help it...I'm addicted to them. Sue me! I don't mind the diapers and tantrums. I don't mind the snoring. I love it. It's part of who I am now.

And I'm sure I'll have fun when I get there but I am having a hard time getting excited about being without my husband and baby for four whole days.

I've never been away from Brooklyn over night. I'm woman enough to admit that my biggest fear is that I cry the whole flight out of town.

Be strong, be strong, be strong.

A Play Date with Markers (the washable kind)

I had a stroke of brilliance when I decided that her high chair tray was the perfect surface for test driving markers for the first time...the mess is contained to a small, not-the-walls-or-floors area and super snappy to clean.



Brooklyn, don't eat the markers. Are you eating the markers?

No.

18 Months

Tomorrow Brooklyn is exactly 1.5 years old. Wow. Did I just say that?

Let me think about this for a minute. I've been a mommy for 18 months. My feelings are similar to how I felt when I skied for the first time. There's that fraction of a second as you start down a ski slope where you are excited and confident and think Hey this was such a good idea and I'm going to have so much fun! The next fraction of a second is the Oh Crap moment when you realize the slide down the hill is much faster than you imagined and you don't really know what you are doing.

At that point it doesn't matter if you can or cannot ski - you ARE skiing and you can't turn back. The next fraction of a second is where you try to keep it together and look cool because your friends are watching and they are all excellent skiers. Then the next fraction of the second is where you decide to hunker down, enjoy the ride no matter how clumsy, enjoy the scenery despite your own girlish screams, and try not to die in the process. It's the scariest, most breath-taking ride I've ever been on but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Enough about me.

I thought it needful to post an update on Brooklyn.

Boom = broom in Brooklyn speak. She saw me sweeping and has been obsessed with the broom ever since. She wakes up in the morning asking and searching for it. Now anything with a long stick-like handle is a broom. Mops, paint rollers, walking cane...it's all a boom.



Buh-buh bum = Bumblebee...as in the bumblebee rider she got for Christmas AND LOVES.

Boon = balloon...as in, my kid goes bananas when she sees a boon in Publix. And she can spot them 30 yards away. I curse you, floral department!

At = Hat...



Ott = Hot...she sees me put my hand on her food to test the temp and now thinks that everything Ott means we put our hand on the food. That's not the message I was trying to convey.

An Sayah = Aunt Sarah. Brooklyn's Aunt Sarah wears scarves and so now in any store or anywhere that Brooklyn sees a scarf, she says An Sayah. Adorbs.

Ah Mee = Amen. She has started bowing her head when she hears us pray. Or at random times during the meal. Then she'll say "Ah Meee" over and over again because she sees that it makes us smile. I get such a kick out of this kid!

Bampa = Grandpa Art.

Appu = most fruit. Especially grapes. I don't know why.

Nana = Banana. Also Savanah, her friend from daycare.

Shosha = Joshua...one of her friends from daycare.

Brooklyn is still an excellent sleeper. She eats most things, loves her baby doll, has a quick temper, and loves to play hide and seek. She loves to ride in her wagon, to play outside, says "cheeeeee" whenever you point a camera at her, and will try anything as long as she sees mommy do it first. She is fearless, curious, independent, generous, affectionate and very social.

She makes me smile just thinking about her.

It's Been 7 Wonderful Years!

***** This post is written in retrospect. *****

We are celebrating our anniversary a few days early this year. Our potential buyers are coming down next week and hopefully we'll be signing a contract on our actual anniversary.



John cannot even half-way imagine how happy he makes me. He has no idea how much easier my life is with him in it. As I sit and try to put into words the whys of my love for him, I'm bombarded with memories of the 'things' he does. But it is so much more than things. It's who he is that makes him do the things he does.

Yes ladies, he is a dirty diaper changing pro. He cooks, he cleans, he fixes cars, computers, houses, gives awesome foot/back rubs, loves God, loves his momma, loves his daughter, puts me first in all things.

He'll watch a chick flick, picks up his own socks, and buy me oreos without them being on the shopping list. He is my calm, my funny, my adventure, the sunrise in my new day, my levy when the tide of life tries to overwhelm. He makes me laugh, makes me strong, makes me confident. He actually makes me more than I really am.

He may not be perfect (those are his words - not mine) but he's perfect FOR ME. And I thank God every day for putting him into my life and guiding my path so that John and I would meet, become friends, and later marry.

Okay, so enough of the mushy stuff.



How did we celebrate?

We left Bean with grandparents and spent the day in Orlando. The Gaylord Palms resort puts on a fabulous winter experience...ICE!



It's every scene of The Night Before Christmas carved out of....wait for it....ice!





It was incredible...one of those things you had to be there to see.





Then we enjoyed many of the Christmas events happening at the resort during the holidays. Had lunch at a fab Italian resturant and then later hot cocoa, and then even later we had some drinks in the Key West section of the resort.



It was a great day for the two of us to reconnect. I admit we did talk about the baby a little bit, but hey - we both love her to pieces so who can blame us. =)

Homeward Bound Part 8 - Thoughts on Moving

Moving sucks. Plain and simple. It sucks if it is your family, your friends, or your self moving. There....there are my thoughts on moving.

Anyway, Christmas has come and gone. I'm sad to see it go so soon. John's friends and family have hefted our furniture to the new place for us. We tried so hard not to bother people during the holidays to help us but it is unavoidable.

Having Bean run around makes it so that basically only one of us can do anything at a time. She's taking it all in stride. I'm sure things are confusing to her, seeing her bedroom in shambles and being emptied, but she's still her normal happy self. At one point she even tried to help us pack and put her huge blue ball in a box. SO CUTE!

Back to packing...John and I made about 1,000 trips back and forth with our cars filled to the brim with boxes. I'm sure that made it easier on the movers. Luckily the new apartment is a 1/2 mile from our condo.

I underestimated how much stuff we have. I bought 2 bundles of boxes from UHaul (foolishly) thinking we'd only use half...Ha! People have a lot of junk under their roof. But it isn't 'junk' in the sense that we can throw it out. It's just stuff that you need eventually. I'm not about to throw it out for the sake of convenience and then have to buy it again when eventually comes around because it always does.

You can tell when moving gets old...at first I tried to carefully label boxes and neatly pack everything, but now that it is down to the wire I'm just throwing random things in a box. We'll sort it later. I'm over it.

So am I sad to see an empty-ish condo? Not really...I'm too busy to be sad.

What happens next? Well, we get settled into our new apartment and then start house shopping.