I Guess It's Still Winter

Last weekend we made the trip up to Boston for our nephew Colin's (nephew #5) baptism, stopping for an overnight in New Hampshire for some family skiing. And, by "family skiing", I mean Greg, Dan & Werner. Carly and I stuck to the spa pool and the tot tubing mountain. And, by "mountain", I mean glorified hill. I'm not sure what was more thrilling for Carly: tubing or dancing in the lodge. I know my vote and you can assume that the sippy cup in the foreground is not mine.




Did I mention that the Pats lost the Super Bowl? Ah shucks.





As many of you know (or, if you don't, you won't be surprised to learn) that Greg is not a fan of Valentine's Day. Neither am I in theory, but let's be honest, it's not like I'd turn down jewelry (babe, if you're reading this, just remember that Costco isn't a real jewelry store). Now that I have a daughter, however, Valentine's Day takes on a new meaning. No longer does it symbolize cheesy dates at crappy restaurants that hike their prices to humiliate amateur romantics. It is, in fact, all about the candy. Folks, it's hard to ignore the glorious pink bags of treats staring us down during every Target trip. Of course, Carly can't chew most candies, so we were left with a massive red velvet cake and Valentine cards. Not bad, but Aunt Julie really outdid herself with Carly's Valentine gift...

At first, Carly didn't understand why there was music coming through her cheeks.


By later that evening, however, she was a pro.