O.C.

Under the boardwalk. Down by the sea-eeeeee. Yeah.  On a blanket with my baby is where I'll be. 



No, literally. 

Classic Greg

So the same guy who ordered and ate my lunch at the hospital when I was in with Patrick, who wore sneakers to Christmas Eve mass because he "had a sore toe", and who sat across the aisle from me and the three kids (one on my lap) on the way home from Florida and thought he was helpful (see photo) just booked a family trip for the weekend of Mother's Day. We are going to stay at a beach condo, an item we bid on at a preschool auction two years ago that we never used. When I asked him where we are going, he admitted he does not know where it is. Neither the city nor state. Classic Greg.

Helluva week

One day I will look back at this moment in my life and long for the chaos and excitement and exhaustion that I'm feeling. But for now, all I can do is memorialize it. A few of the big events that transpired over the weekend include Patrick starting solids, Carly getting a bob haircut and losing her first tooth, Greg getting hit by a car and Teddy starting to shave.

We survived. Greg and Teddy are fine so far, although both lost a little blood. Some have suggested that Greg's accident was karma paying him back for his own reckless driving. I decline comment. Carly's hair is adorable. She lost-lost her tooth, as in she has no clue where it went, but it was wiggly one moment and MIA the next. Just in case the tooth fairy wasn't paying attention, she left her a note explaining the situation. Patrick's enthusiasm for food is hilarious. As Lyle Lovett says "fat babies have no pride". Peas, pickles, cucumbers, avocados. Perhaps time to start with another color. Eh, next week.

Party Girl

So I have been working under the assumption that birthday parties are only significant events for 1-5 year olds. Perhaps this has been wishful thinking by someone who tends to over think parties in general. I definitely don't blow a huge budget on kids parties, but I admittedly spend an embarrassing amount of energy planning the venue, food, guest list, invitations, tablecloths, napkins, cake flavor, cake salutation. Well, you get the idea.

Based on my many conversations with wiser parents of older kids (I'm talking about you JQ), I became convinced that the birthday charade was coming to an end for my eldest child who will be six this summer. In this fantasy, she would be engrossed with a smaller circle of friends and have more modest party goals. Movie with friends. Ice cream outing with a few soccer buddies. Scavenger hunt in the backyard with the kids of my closest friends along with a lovely spread of wine and cheese and non-kid tunes spinning on the iPod.

Folks, I was wrong. Although we are still 4 months out, Carly brought up the topic innocently enough.

"Mom, what is a surprise party?"

Then I fell for the trap:
"Well, it's a party where everything is a surprise...the guests, food, games are all a big surprise for the guest of honor."

Without a second of hesitation:
"Great. I'd like a surprise party for my next birthday."

I'm screwed.

Spring

My dad used to caution against peaking too soon. But in the case if cherry blossoms, the earlier the better after a lonely winter. Cheers to an early and long spring!

Hello spring!

Scratch that. Hello summer! We need sunscreen and flip flops stat!

Cousins!

Such a fun weekend with Uncle Dan, Auntie Michelle and cousins Jack and William! Teddy is still asking "where did Jack and Wil-whem go?".

Thanks so much for making the trip down. I hope the radar detectors on the Jersey Turnpike were taking the day off on your return. (Deep down, don't you know Greg is already mapping out how to beat your time on our next trip? God help us.)