"These Are a Few of My Favorite Things.."

In honor of my little boy's half-birthday, a few things that are simply and utterly "Milo."

1. The grin. It's like he can't get his mouth wide enough and his eyes become little slits. This was the first grin I ever caught on camera- when he was not quite 6 weeks old:

And just last week...

2. The cheeks. (I adore both sets of them, but in the interest of sparing some of his future embarrassment, I'll be nice). Nom nom nom.

3. He's been such a good sport when it comes to tolerating his big sister. {She loves her Mi-yo}.

This will lovingly be dubbed, the "Desitin incident."

4. I've always had a thing for blue eyes (obviously). :) And I adore his. {Please don't change}!

5. I also love that he's 100% a Momma's boy. Sorry ladies, he's in a long-term, committed relationship. Fully attached (I'm sure you can wager a bet on what). But for the past few months, he's become increasingly affectionate. He grabs my cheeks with his hands and pulls me to his face, mouth open, drool abundant, and plants his smackers on my chin/nose/cheeks/eyes- basically whatever is available. It literally gives new meaning to the phrase "suck face." My son has this down pat (perhaps this should be a point of concern in oh, another 15 years?)

Like so:

6. And finally, this.


Happy 6 months to my lovable, squeezable, happy "Mi-yo Bean." <3

Number Five

Five years ago on July 22, 2006, I married "a guy named Jake" (as he came to be coined in the many back-and-foth emails between me and the mutual friend who set us up on our blind date). I wish I could say I remembered a lot about that day, but it was such a blur and it went so quickly that only a few things (albeit, AMAZING things) still stand out in my memory. So, in honor of the day that changed my name- and my life :) - here some of the more humorous things I do remember:

1. It was hot. I'm talking sweat running down my legs under my dress, gross, sticky HOT. But hey, that's what happens when you're finacee proposes in December and you realize you're too impatient to wait an entire year to get married and have the December wedding you've always dreamed of. So I decided mid-July would work. (I still scratch my head over that). But I guess that means plenty beach trips to celebrate our anniversary. Thankfully, we "only" had 92 degree weather that day, as opposed to the 106 it reached yesterday.

2. I only got one bite of my beautiful cake- the bite that Jake gave me. ONE bite. I won't even say what was spent on this cake. Thankfully, everyone else raved about it, but I was pretty bummed that I more or less had to take their word for it since I was simply too busy to partake.

3. We decided to cut costs by hiring an {amazing} band to play for the first two hours and then loaded up Jake's iPod with some of our favorite tunes for the last 2 hours. Seemed like a great idea, right? Until our first dance song came on (which wasn't played by the band) and there was this awkward silence as someone was trying to find it on the iPod. *crickets* And then Justin Timberlake's "Like I Love You" blasted through the speakers. Definitely NOT our first song by a long stretch, but a good little comic relief, if anything.

4. We piled ourselves- elated, but also hungry and exhausted- into the limo that was taking us to our hotel, popped open the bottle of champagne that was chilled and waiting, and then asked our driver to please, for the love of God, stop at the nearest Wendy's so we could stuff our faces with a few Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers. It was dire. And amazingly, they paired well with the subtle notes of almond, vanilla and cherry blossoms in our champagne.

5. The ironic thing that sticks out most in my mind about that day is my complete lack of ability to actually remember the finer details, try as I might to conjure them up. Which is why I'm glad we didn't spend tens of thousands of dollars on the event, even though it would have been incredibly easy to do. I remember thinking that everything would be thrown completely off if I couldn't have those centerpieces and that color for the table linens. But at the end of the day, I was just as married as I could be- just as happy as I could be. nd five years (and one day) :) after the fact, though the days may be long and exhausting, I can't imagine going to sleep and waking up beside anyone else. :)

The Price of My Favorite Pair of Jeans

I've decided that I shouldn't ever complain about the few extra pounds of baby weight I've yet to shed. History would say it's just not a smart move. The last time I did that after having Ella, I got nailed with a stomach bug, so while I did lose what was left of my muffin top, I was also losing my lunch and dinner and breakfast and, well, you get the idea. Apparently this time around, it's strep throat. (Which I would gladly take any day over the stomach bug). Takes me back to the days when I regularly got strep throat as a little girl. (I always knew it was bad when my doctor had me open my mouth and then reeled back and said, "whoa.") But it's been so long since I've had it and time does a great job of deadening the senses and skewing the details and I forgot just how much it sucks. (Oddly enough, I conveniently forgot certain things about pregnancy too. I somehow remembered that morning sickness "wasn't so bad." Seriously? And now I pray that I will always remember the day I spent on the bathroom floor when my little guy was apparently implanting in my uterus before I let Jake or anyone else talk me into going for #3). But back to the throat thing. It hurts to swallow anything. I forgot about this. Water. Saliva. Sour Patch Kids (I had a hankering for them. Yes, it's weird). What little appetite I do have is satisfied with cherry, orange and grape popsicles and today for lunch, I had mac-n-cheese and a few tater tots. I've adopted the "eat whatever sounds good" rule and have discovered that I have the palate of a 3 year old.

I wish I could say that I always try to find the good in the not-good situations. At times like these, unfortunately, it's much easier to say, "Woe to me. My throat hurts like a b**ch." (I do say it, just not in front of the kids). But today, as I was changing out the last of my winter clothing for spring and summer garb, I thought, well maybe I'll just try on those jeans again. Lo and behold, my favorite pair fits. And the reason they're my favorite pair? Because they're the ones I wore before I got pregnant with Milo- the coveted size 6 that have been sitting under the 11 other pairs of maternity jeans I've had to work my way through. Yes, yes, I might still be pasty and my muscle tone is only "meh," BUT... I didn't have to lie down flat on my bed to get them zipped up and that, my friends, counts as a victory in my book.

So, to the white spots on the back of my throat and my swollen lymph nodes, I say, thank you. Oh, and suck it. I win.

It's a.......Gut Feeling

Friday is the big day. THE day. I can hardly believe it's here already.

It is time, at long last, to know the flavor of this little bean. I didn't give it much thought in the very beginning, probably because much more of my focus was centered on trying to keep the contents of my stomach in my stomach. I could've given a rat's patootie what the little belly-dweller's gender was, so long as it wasn't two of them and so long as I didn't become any sicker than I was with Ella.

But of course, I compared notes between my two pregnancies. I noted when the morning sickness started, when it peaked, when it ended, what I craved, what I had aversions to, etc etc. I also eventually succumbed to the gender quizzes on various baby sites and consulted the Chinese Gender chart on several occasions. Every woman who becomes pregnant is secretly (or maybe not-so-secretly) desperate to know whether she's carrying a girl or a boy. And it's usually the second question out of people's mouths too, right after they notice your protruding bump.

"When's the baby due?" - The middle of February.
"Do you know what you're having?"- _________?

A word of warning: Especially nosy people may proceed to ask you, then, if this was a planned pregnancy, if you're planning to have anymore, what the name is, and some truly special people might indulge you with the story of their child's birth or how they knew so-and-so who crapped on the table when they were pushing the baby out. No, I'm not kidding. That happens (the crapping part AND the fact that someone I had known for 40 seconds was willing to share that tidbit with me). I felt special.

Anyway, when I was pregnant with Ella, I wasn't technically supposed to know that I was pregnant with a girl, but in an unfortunate turn of events (that proved to be fortunate for me), it was revealed to me during one of my appointments when Jake wasn't there. He insisted on being kept in the dark for the next 5 months, and so I kept it from him, trying to preserve the surprise he so desperately wanted on delivery day. And I must have done a good job masking it, because he and several of his family members swore up and down that we were going to be meeting Milo Ryan that day, not Ella Claire. It was a truly beautiful- yet almost comic- moment when they pulled her out and said, "okay Dad, take a look- what do you see?"

A girl?!?!

I had the last laugh on that one. ;)

This time, I pretty much insisted we find out as soon as humanly possible. There would be no more secret shopping and hiding clothes, no slip-ups to give anything away. No waiting until Christmas morning to open the shiny package. (It wouldn't come as a shock to anyone that I was the child that would crawl up under the Christmas tree to more thoroughly examine and shake the packages with my name on them. I'm pretty sure I was caught doing it last year too). So yes, we are going to "ruin" the surprise (as some people *cough-JAKE-cough-cough*say) and go right for the crotch on Friday.

But, even with the mounting excitement, I feel that I could already tell you what we're having and that I'm 95% sure about it. And of course, I could be wrong. But I don't think I am this time. I've been surprised at how many of our friends feel very strongly that we're gonna be buying blue this time around. I had a few friends call it right from the beginning. Jake also believes Ella will be getting a brother, but I'm not sure if it's because he just wants a boy so badly or because he actually has a feeling in his gut.

The feeling in my gut has been girl, almost since the beginning. I've had nothing but girl dreams, some of which even revealed girl names that we've considered. I've even had a few people tell me I must be having a girl. And on that note, I've learned that you should never, ever ask them why, or else you could end up hearing them reference some crazy old wives tales like the unevenness of your breasts, or the fine hairs on your upper lip or how your right butt cheek sags more than your left, so therefore, it must be a girl. I just don't ask anymore.

I haven't really checked out all of the crazy old wives tales this time around. To be honest, if I were going by some of the more well-known (and slightly less insane) tales, I'd actually have every reason to think this is a boy as well. Which is why it's all the more intriguing to me that the closer we get to the big reveal, the more I feel like we're going to have two little princesses on our hands. I would love to be proved wrong, but then again, I always like to hear the words, "you were right." ;)

My next favorite words to hear: "Let's go shopping." And no doubt, there will be plenty of that in the coming weeks. ;-)

Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six HUndred Minutes...

How do you measure a year?

The past 525,600 minutes (I refuse to type that out again) have, indeed, been the most precious of my life so far. At 7:49 pm on a warm Saturday evening in June, all at once, I fell in love, had my biggest dream fulfilled and felt my heart break in a completely new way. I remember a very real feeling of panic as they placed this tiny peanut-person in my very shaky, unsteady, new-Mom arms. "Can't these nurses see that I don't know what I'm doing? Are they really going to leave her with me? What now??"

Looking back, I wish I could say that I remember more of our first few days and weeks together as a new family. Unfortunately, for about the first 3 months, I walked around my house half-robed in a zombie-like state, searching for either a paci, the coffee maker, or a burpcloth. So perhaps, the last year could be measured solely in the amount of time I spent awake when I should have been sleeping. I'm gonna guess it was about 495,000 minutes of the 525, 600.

But I have a confession. I didn't write in her baby book this year. *Bad Mommy.* I had every intention to. I even went out and bought a scrapbook, stickers, paper and special markers to do her very own scrapbook. And every time I open my hall closet and see all the materials still neatly tucked away in their original packaging, I laugh at my own naivety. Sure, after the baby goes down, the house is picked up, dinner is made and errands are run, why wouldn't I want to sit down and spend a couple of hours with a glue stick, scissors and stickers? I have a sneaky suspicion the book and all of it's components will be hanging out in our hall closet- quite possibly- until she's in college. So unfortunately, I wish I could tell you the exact date she said her first word, rolled over from tummy to back and vice versa, ate her first food and took her first steps, but I can't. But maybe knowing the dates isn't so important after all. I lived those moments with her, regardless of whether I made note of them elsewhere. And while my Mommy brain may not be functioning on all cylinders all of the time, I have come to realize that those moments are etched in my memory just as clear as if they happened yesterday: the way it felt to hold her for the first time, the way I melted when she smiled her first real smile (and I knew it wasn't gas), the first time she said "mama" to me and held her arms out to be picked up, the panic and helplessness I felt the first time we made a trip to the ER at 5:30 in the morning when she spiked a fever, the first time she walked to me....

These moments make up just a small fraction of the grand-total, but they are the ones that have helped define me as a mommy this year.

"In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights and cups of coffee" (and there were a lot of those)

"In inches, in miles, in laughter and strife

"In five-hundred twenty-five-thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in the life?"

How about love? There's been an abundance of it this past year and for that, I'm so grateful. :)