lifeturnedup

The Tell-Tale Thump

2012-02-07T21:10:00.000-05:00

So I have this headache.

Actually, it’s more like a head-thump. Literally, it feels like something is rhythmically pounding in the back of my head, right at the base of my skull.

And it’s not just a sometimes thing. It’s an all the time thing.

Poor Chad and my work wife know that when I make a certain motion with my hand (that, come to think of it, must look questionable if you don’t know what it’s about…) it means that the thumping is so bad that I can’t hear/think/do anything else.

I thought it might be caffeine-related… until I cut back my caffeine to one serving per day and the thumping didn’t stop.

So, even though I’m not a huge fan of going to the doctor…. I broke down and made an appointment. I’m going this Friday, so please y’all, pray that it’s not a brain tumor.

In the meantime, I have WebMD’d the crap out of my symptoms (well, the one overriding undeniably annoying and anti-concentrating symptom), and I’m starting to think it might be stress-related.

Wait… Me? Stressed? Naaaaaaaaah.

Today I was making mental list of all of the things that I’m mildly to majorly stressed out about, and I surprised myself with the amount of things I stress about! So here it is:

I'm stressed about my living situation in general. As many of you know, we are in the final stages of buying a house. We are also in the final stages of finding a renter for the place we are in now. The mortgage people and the realtor and the seller always need paperwork signed and returned THAT DAY, and our landlady is a PAIN. Not to speak ill of the elderly, but if you can't remember what you tell your tenant from one day to another, you're probably too old to be a landlord. Just saying. Stress City.
My poor baby has been sick for WEEKS. Constant runny nose, night cough, yucky poops (sorry TMI), etc. Nurse friends -- diagnose him! I just convinced myself (another WebMD over-exertion) that he has a milk allergy, so we are trying out Soy Milk for the time being. Stress County, VA.
I think I overdid it with school this semester. I love my program, but with the new job, new house, new challenges with family, etc., I am finding that I cram all of my work into the weekend -- and that makes the weekend not so relaxing. Stress University.
My well-intentioned husband is a TERRIBLE money manager. And it stresses me out that he has all these huge, expensive (pipe) dreams for the massive renovations he is going to do to the (new, perfectly fine without renovations) house. Can't someone be practical with me?? I know it's terrible to squash his dreams, so I can't do that. I guess all I can do is vent on my blog. Stress.com.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, my problems are relatively few. However, to little old me, it seems like a lot right now. Prayers and good vibes are appreciated, people. Thanks for listening.

"Ball. I get it."

2012-02-02T19:37:00.000-05:00

I had a moment of panic tonight when I realized that I have not been good about writing down Parker’s words! My mom has a faded, totally 80’s, teddy bears and too much pastel calendar where she wrote down each word I learned on the day she first heard me say it, and I have…. Nothing.

I have some mom guilt about it, but this is another one of those forgotten things that I attribute to being a working mama. After working 40+ hours a week, making dinner, doing laundry, doing homework, and pinching my husband’s cute butt, I just don’t have the energy (or the memory) to write all of that down! But just for you guys, I’m going to try.

Parker’s first word, believe it or not, was “Light.” He has always been fascinated with lights and anything that lights up, so one day we heard him in the living room saying “Ba, Ba, Ba” over and over – and we realized that he was talking about the light that was on over our dining room table.

Ok, so “Ba” for “Light” isn’t a reeeeeal first word, but that was the first time that we could tell that, in his mind, he was matching what he was seeing to something he could verbalize. Which to Mommy, the English major, was, well… major!

(Confession time: His first actual real word was “Da-Da.” But I am in denial about this. Wasn’t I in labor for 21 hours?? Didn’t I have 50 stitches? Didn’t I pull the night shift until month 4 when he started sleeping through the night? Can I get a “Ma-ma”?? No.)

Since then we have also learned to say:

Ma-Ma (thank God)
Mimi
Nana
Lala (our Monday babysitter)
ba-ba (Are you starting to see a trend with these two repeating syllable words? Yep, me too. I speak in them all day long)
Uh-oh
Bye-bye
Night-Night
Aaaaaaaaamen
shoe
sock
ball
pee-pee
poopy (my personal favorite…especially when he pulls it out in public)
yogurt (which is more like “yuh-guh”)
go-go (for Goldfish)
diaper (he says “dipey”)
sleep sheep

And tonight, for the first time, he said “Pizza.” So. Stinking. Cute. It’s actually more like “Sa-Sa” and he sticks his tongue out at the start of each syllable. I wish I had a video.

We also have some phrases!

I get it
Thank you (does my heart proud, y’all)
Bye-bye Da-Da/Ma-Ma
Night-Night Da-Da/Ma-Ma

Ok, ok, I’ll stop bragging. I know he is very advanced for a 16 month old. You don’t have to tell me he’s a baby genius. (Just kidding guys! I just have some Mommy Pride over here!)

Do Good

2012-01-31T21:03:00.000-05:00

Just a quick post to say check this out: Spiritual Gifts Test

This is a link to a site where you can go and take a quiz and find out what your natural spiritual gifts are, so that you can be a more effective member/leader of your church/community.

Apparently I am an Exhorter and an Administrator. Here's my write-up:

Your two highest gifts:

EXHORTER: That special ability to find and communicate to others practical ways of serving God. The exhorter is a positive motivator, knowing practical Christianity will change the lives of others (Rom. 12:8; I Timothy. 4:13; Heb. 10:25). 

ADMINISTRATOR: That special ability to manage human, financial, and physical resources in an efficient manner. The administrator functions by planning, organizing, leading and supervising (Rom. 12:8; I Cor. 12:28; Titus 1:5).

Do y'all think that sounds like me? I know the administrator is RIGHT on, at least. As far as the exhorter, I would consider it a HUGE compliment if someone thought I was a positive motivator. And I do think that practical Christianity can change your life!

Now go find out what you are!

Anyway, I hope everyone is having a happy week! This is my first five day work week since before Christmas (I am having person pity party because I know that's actually AWESOME), so by Friday afternoon I am going to be toast. Dear Team, if you are reading this, I apologize for and also do not take any responsibility for anything I might do or say on Friday after 12:30pm. Love, Megan.

P.S. Speaking of work, I couldn't resist:

Is this picture ironic when juxtaposed with the rest of my post? Maybe. I love Jesus, but I am also human :)

Tonight I'm Super Sentimental: Parker's Birth Story

2012-01-18T21:52:00.000-05:00

I knew I had to go to sleep. I had a doctor’s appointment in the morning to figure out just why my little boy had decided to stay inside for 41 weeks. But it was the night of the Redskins-Cowboys game, and Chad was glued to the TV. So I stayed up late arguing with him. What were we arguing about? It was really important then, but somehow now I don’t remember.

I fell into a deep sleep before the game was over.

All of a sudden, in the midst of my slumber, I felt an internal POP and awoke to warm water flowing between my legs. I looked at the clock. It was 5:45am.

“Chad…” I said to my heavy sleeper, “Chad. Wake up. I think my water broke.”

My body is already welling with anxiety and elation and relief.

He mumbles, “Five more minutes,” and rolls over.

I tug on his shoulder, “If you wait five more minutes you will be swimming. Wake up, call the doctor, I have to get in the shower.”

So Chad gets (jumps) up and throws our wet sheets into an ungracious pile next to our washer and dryer, and I vainly jump in the shower. I will NOT show up at the hospital to labor with prickly legs, I tell myself. Also, I need to touch up my toenail polish.

I remember clearly being in the shower, struggling to bend to shave my legs, and feeling those first uncomfortable pulls, the beginnings of contractions. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I almost didn’t realize Chad with his head and hand (that clutched the telephone) halfway in the shower.

“It’s the doctor. He wants to talk to you.”

I have a short conversation with Dr. Montgomery, in which I tell him that my water broke and I am starting to feel small contractions, and he suggests that we go to the hospital. So I quickly hang up, get out of the shower, dress in comfortable clothes, blow-dry my hair (ah, the vanity), do a final check of the hospital bag, and we walk out the door. I took one final look around as we left and thought, this is it, it’s not just us anymore.

We got to the hospital and I was admitted at 7am. I remember walking in the doors with an undeniable smile on my face, not scared, just ready. I was so ready to meet him. A security guard took one look at me and said, “I bet I know where you’re headed. Good luck, ma’am.”

I got into my room and the nurse insisted on testing to make sure the fluid I was leaking was amniotic fluid. I wanted to tell her that I knew my own body, that I was pretty sure, but I let her confirm what I already knew. She walked out of the room. I looked at Chad. He told me we were two hours in. At that moment, time meant absolutely nothing to me. I was so focused on my body and the movements it was making and the feelings I was feeling, I could think of little else.

The nurses switched shifts. A new nurse came in. My contractions were starting to get uncomfortable. She told me to go for a walk. I tried to walk, I really did. I made it half a lap around the maternity ward and then I had to rest up against a wall.

My mother-in-law got there. It was the last day of her vacation. She told me, “I just knew he would come before I had to go back to work. He wanted to see his Mimi.”

I finally saw the doctor for the first time. She did a short (painful) exam and told me that I was barely dilated.

My nurse came back in to check on me. “Want to try something?” she asked me. I told her I would try anything. We tried the birthing ball. Extremely painful. Which is a shame because I really wanted to use it. I had heard of friends who went from 1 – 10 centimeters in an hour because of the birthing ball. I was all. about. The birthing ball. But I couldn’t do it. I just sat. The nurse said to move my hips in a circle. I tried. I thought I was circling. I wasn’t. So she massaged my lower back and pushed my hips in circles while I moaned in pain. This wasn’t working.

“Want to try the tub?” You bet I did. But the tub was broken. And I was broken up. This was the first time that I cried. It was hour six. (Turns out, she called maintenance, so a poor unassuming maintenance man had to listen to me labor while he fixed my tub. But God bless that maintenance man, he got my tub to work!).

Finally, the tub. It was warm and swirling. I was starting to feel more and more pain. The nurse brought me something and injected it into my IV. I immediately felt more calm. I was just starting to relax. Chad brought in the birthing ball and sat by my side and held my hand. Then a strong contraction hit. He couldn’t stand to see me in that much pain. He leaned over and threw up. I found myself more concerned about him than myself, and for a moment almost forgot I was in labor.

I sat a while longer. My mom got there. She was glowing with nerves and happiness. It was the first time in my whole pregnancy that she really looked happy. The way she looked at me said It’s time. He’s almost here. He wants to come and see his Nana.

I got out of the bath, anxious to see how much I had progressed. The doctor came in to check me. 3 centimeters. Bummer. She says she will be back in a little while, that she’s going to let me try to dilate a little more before we talk about an epidural. So I labor. And I labor. And I get up and try to walk, even though it hurts. I try the ball again. I stretch and lay my upper body across the bed, trying to relieve some of the pressure that keeps building in my back. After two more hours, she comes back. She said we were going to go ahead and do the epidural, even though I hadn’t dilated any further. This was a bad sign, I just knew it. It was hour nine.

The epidural was, to say the least, amazing. I knew I had a huge baby inside me making my whole body pulse and shake, and within minutes of that long tube going inside my back, I could feel nothing. Looking back, that is terrifying. In that moment, it was bliss. I asked the nurse for a club soda and promptly fell asleep. (I slept through hours 10 and 11)

When I finally woke, it was late afternoon. Miss Teri, my second mom, and her husband had arrived while I was sleeping. Everyone was in the waiting room eating steak and cheeses. I tried to eat some Jell-O. I promptly threw it up. I waited anxiously for my next check-up. 5 centimeters. Bummer.

There were now 10 people in my room. It was almost like a small party. Everyone was so excited, and you could feel the nervous energy in the room. That’s when the hot spots hit. I called the nurse because all of a sudden, I felt a sharp pain at the bottom of my (huge) belly. She told me I shouldn’t feel anything there. She called the anesthesiologist.

The anesthesiologist, in thickly framed glasses and tube socks, rushed in and began poking at my belly. “Can you feel this? What about this? How about here?” Every time I answered, he would shake his head, and look down and scribble something on his pad of paper. Then as suddenly as he came he left, and then reappeared with a syringe full of something he promised would make me feel much better. His bedside manner was… lacking. But his drugs sure were good. It was hour 16.

From there the pain just got stronger, and the contractions just got worse. Miss Teri sat next to me and told me stories and held my hand and warned me when contractions were coming, for what seemed like hours. She brushed my sweaty hair off my face and whispered what a wonderful blessing this baby was going to be. She told me how much she loved me and how she knew I could be strong. For a while, in the midst of the most pain I’ve ever known, I was in a strange place of complete peace and quiet, even though the party raged on around me. Chad was glued to the football game – the only double header of the season. He checked on me at commercials.

The nurses switched shifts again at 11pm, and so did the doctors. I was praying the next doctor who came in wouldn’t be the peppy, cheerleader OB that I had decided was not the one for me early on in my pregnancy. And wouldn’t you know it, guess who bounced in at hour 19? She told me I needed to be prepared for the fact that, since I had been in labor for so long, that this baby might just not come out naturally. She said we would give it another hour and then talk about a C-section.

Well that was just not happening. I had a talk with my little boy, and God. I know you will come when it is right, and I know You know what you are doing. Please please please…

One hour later, we were at 10 centimeters. The nurses taught me how to push. Breathe in, then push for 10 full seconds and don’t give up. I made great progress. I was a woman on a mission. I wanted to hold him so badly.

I pushed and rested (but mostly pushed) for the next 40 minutes, with Chad on one side and my mom on the other. Finally they said I was close. The nurse ran to get the doctor. She came in with no time to spare. I wish I could say more about the very end of labor, but I was so supremely focused and full of birthing energy that I honestly don’t remember. All I do recall is hearing my mother-in-law say, “Oh my goodness,” in awe and feeling a hot, searing pain. I yelled, “That hurts like you can’t even imagine, you have to get it out.”

And seconds later, I saw him. He was purple and puffy and beautiful. They placed him on my chest and my eyes welled up with tears, as they are welling up now just remembering how emotional that moment was. I felt him breathe. I counted his fingers and toes. I kissed his head a thousand times. It was hour 21, and my miracle was here. 9 pounds and 7 ounces of love and joy. My amazing love, my whole life, my Parker James.

"Just do your job!" (And other things I say at least 10 times a day)

2012-01-17T21:27:00.000-05:00

For one day every year, and preferably on the same day, it would be really great if everyone could just do their respective jobs like they are supposed to. That would be SO GREAT.

Unfortunately, since such a day does not exist, and because you have to BEG people to JUST DO THEIR JOBS, here are a few of the things I’ve had to deal with in the past week:

No, Unnamed Mortgage Lender, I can’t get you that piece of paperwork – because you ALREADY HAVE IT. I gave it to you last week. Along with the rest of my life on paper. Secrets between this guy and I? We have none.
No, Unnamed Creditor, I do not owe you $6000 dollars for a Suzuki crotch rocket. In fact, I have never even been on a “donor”cycle, let alone owned one. Nice try.
No, Unnamed Landlady, I can’t “just wait a few more days” for you to come fix my nonexistent water pressure. I have a booger-laden toddler that requires a bath.
No, Unnamed Dentist’s Incompetent Biller, I will not pay $140 for my yearly cleaning because you submitted the claim to my old insurance policy when you literally had a copy of my new insurance policy in your hand.
No, Unnamed Husband, I cannot take the trash out. I have a cold. And I am the woman in this relationship. I do not take out the trash.

Seriously, y’all? Seriously?

So because someone(s) couldn’t be bothered to do the job they get paid to do, I now have to make 6 phone calls, 5 photocopies, 4 emails, 3 trips to my mother-in-law’s house to take a freaking shower, 2 drives to Dunkin Donuts to eat my feelings, and 1 giant fight with my husband (mainly because I’m stressed out about other things)? Le help. I need my mommy. And a pedicure.

Someone send me some positive, patient energy, if you have any to spare.

I am a woman on the edge of telling somebody what’s up.

Two Girls One Earthship

2012-01-11T20:22:00.000-05:00

I don't want to go into too much (might get me into trouble) detail, but y'all, I am having a great time at my new job! I am doing something interesting, for goodness sake! I am so thankful for a fun and challenging work-life after almost a year of "Thank you for calling CrapityCrap, this is Megan speaking, how may I help you vent your anger and frustration at a member of the public who also happens to be able to make decisions about YOUR MONEY?" (Ok, maybe the phone verbiage was a liiiiittle different than that). Not bitter. Not bitter at all.

Anyway, moving along, another perk of my new job is that THERE ARE PEOPLE THERE I CAN RELATE TO. Case in point: the first day, I sat down in the lobby to wait for the HR people to come get us, and there was a girl sitting across from me with not one, but two mugs of coffee. Brain says: We are going to be friends. Then I noticed her cool, semi-hipster style. Then I noticed her gorgeous wedding band/engagement ring set. Wait. Hold the presses. There are other young married people out there?! Turns out... this girl and I are on the same team! Not only the same team, we sit next to each other in our small country of cubicles. Not only cube-mates, but we quickly discover that we are baaaaasically the same person, and just as speedily develop a reputation as "The Social Butterflies" of our training group (Good or bad? Don't know yet. Ask me after my first review.) and begin referring to each other as "my work wife" (And our poor husbands just shake their heads. "Aren't you supposed to have a work husband?" "No. No. No. You just don't understand.").

Sooooo that whole huge, long introduction was a way of introducing this HILARIOUS episode from today:

As part of our new position, all of us have to take Building Construction Training, which is essentially learning about all different types of home construction (and all the issues the types of construction can cause) and all the different systems found within your average (and not-so-average) home. So, if you will, imagine (without laughing) little old me, Miss English Major, Miss I-have-an-unhealthy-obsession-with-Shakespeare, learning to speak with authority (ha) about soffits and crickets and geodesic domes (Excuse me? Exactly.).

Most days, Work Wife and I end up having a completely serious conversation about something that anyone with an ounce of construction/handyman sense would find ridiculous.

Example: "I have to ask my husband later if our roof has vents. Do all roofs have vents? Is that only in older homes? I think it's only in older homes."

Another example: "I don't want to watch this video about sewer systems. I know they are talking about poop. All of the examples involve something brown and watery."

And then there's today. Today we were learning about non-conventional construction and we came across the Earthship. For those of you who have never heard of this type of structure... rest assured, you are in the majority. If you feel the need to be educated, go here: http://earthship.com/. If not, here is a photo:

These homes are made out of recycled tires! They are super eco-friendly and weird.

Anyway, let's just say that it had been a long day, and we were all a little tired and punch drunk. Here is the glorious conversation that ensued (via our office messenger):

WW‎‎ [4:04 PM]:

i want an earthshit

earthship. finger slip!!!!!!!!!!!

‎‎Me [4:04 PM]:

http://earthship.com/sewage

not too far from the truth

actually

‎‎Me‎‎ [4:05 PM]:

do you know how far the P and the T are from each other on the keyboard?!

‎‎WW‎‎ [4:05 PM]:

i know!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And that, folks, is just another day at the office.

100 Things to Eat Before You Die

2012-01-05T20:46:00.000-05:00

If you haven't already noticed from the wine reviews and the snotty comments about Champagne, I am somewhat of a foodie! I love eating new things and trying different regional specialties (remind me sometime to tell you all about my rude introduction to Country Ham, courtesy of my sweet MIL). So to make a long story short... Actually, why make it short? Here's the long: I was Facebook stalking a guy I knew in college who was three years older than me, and who I thought was gorgeous and smart and amazing until he crushed my dreams by coming out... and HE had this list of "100 Foods to Eat Before You Die" shared on his account along with the number of them he had eaten (64... which I have to say is not nearly as impressive as my 70). After I looked through the list I decided to post it here and share it with all of you (along with my loooove of trying new foods)... Aren't you lucky!

So without further ado.... Here are the 100 Foods (you must!) Eat Before You Die... accompanied by colorful editorial comments by yours truly. Again, aren't you lucky!...??................??

100 Things to Eat Before You Die

1. Venison: Yes. Also Deer Jerkey. Yum.

2. Nettle tea: No

3. Huevos rancheros: Yes

4. Steak tartare: Yes. At JG’s in Washington, D.C. @MeganSeston (I'm sorry that I tag Twitter-style when I'm obviously not on Twitter. It's one of my many flaws. Love me anyway?)

5. Crocodile: Yes

6. Black pudding: Never would I EVER 

7. Cheese fondue: Yes

8. Carp: Not that into fish

9. Borscht: No

10. Baba ghanoush: Yes

11. Calamari: Yes. Never Again.

12. Pho: Yes

13. PB&J sandwich: Yes

14. Aloo gobi: Yes

15. Hot dog from a street cart: Yes. Shout out to the cart that sits across from the National Portrait Gallery.

16. Epoisses: No

17. Black truffle: In the most delicious Truffled Mac and Cheese I’ve ever eaten. At Smith & Wollensky in Dallas.

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes: Strawberry Wiiiiiiiine (Very few know the true meaning of this reference. Haha)

19. Steamed pork buns: Yes

20. Pistachio ice cream: Yes

21. Heirloom tomatoes: Yes

22. Fresh wild berries: Yes

23. Foie gras: Yes (So divine. Except for the way it’s made. Which makes it not so divine if you have a heart.)

24. Rice and beans: Yes

25. Brawn, or head cheese: Yeeech. And No.

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper: No because I am NOT a lunatic and I value my tastebuds.

27. Dulce de leche: Yes 

28. Oysters: Yes. Bay Oysters in Galveston, TX. BIG mistake.

29. Baklava: Yes

30. Bagna cauda: No 

31. Wasabi peas: Yes. Yuck.

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl: Yes. Not a clam fan.

33. Salted lassi: Yes

34. Sauerkraut: Yes. Yummmmmm.

35. Root beer float: Yes

36. Cognac with a fat cigar: No. Haven’t had cognac and I can’t STAND the smell of cigars. 

37. Clotted cream tea: Yes

38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O shot: Hahaha Yes.

39. Gumbo: Yes

40. Oxtail: No

41. Curried goat: Yes, weirdly enough.  

42. Whole insects: Does at the bottom of a tequila shot count? Then yes.

43. Phaal: No

44. Goat’s milk: Yes

45. Single malt whisky: Yes

46. Fugu: Yes

47. Chicken tikka masala: One of my favorite comfort foods of all time

48. Eel: No

49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut: Hot and fresh. Yes.

50. Sea urchin: No

51. Prickly pear: Only in martini form.

52. Umeboshi: Yes

53. Abalone: No

54. Paneer: No

55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal: Yes

56. Spaetzle: Yes 

57. Dirty gin martini: Yes

58. Beer above 8% ABV: Yes 

59. Poutine: No

60. Carob chips: No

61. S’mores: Yes

62. Sweetbreads: Nope. Can’t do it.

63. Kaolin: No

64. Currywurst: No

65. Durian: No

66. Frogs’ legs: Yes

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake: All. Of. The. Above.

68. Haggis: Can’t and won’t.

69. Fried plantain: Yes

70. Chitterlings, or andouillette: No

71. Gazpacho: Yes

72. Caviar and blini: Weirdly, no.

73. Louche absinthe: Oh college. Yes.

74. Gjetost, or brunost: No

75. Roadkill: Almost had squirrel stew once. Almost.

76. Baijiu: No

77. Hostess Fruit Pie: Yes (Sidenote: Why have I answered “Yes” to all of the gross greasy American things??)

78. Snail: Ahhh Escargots with butter and garlic. Butter. Is there anything better than butter?

79. Lapsang souchong: No

80. Bellini: Yes. Yes to anything with Champagne.

81. Tom yum: No

82. Eggs Benedict: Yes. Even better? Eggs Chesapeake.

83. Pocky: Yes

84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant: Not yet.

85. Kobe beef: No

86. Hare: No 

87. Goulash: Yes. I am 50% Hungarian after all.

88. Flowers: Yes, on desserts?

89. Horse: No

90. Criollo: No

91. Spam: Yummmm.

92. Soft shell crab: Can’t get over the “eat the shell” thing.

93. Rose harissa: No

94. Catfish: So many times.

95. Mole poblano: Yes. Droooooool.

96. Bagel and lox: Never had lox.

97. Lobster Thermidor: Alas, Julia Child, I have not.

98. Polenta: Yes. Another fave comfort food

99. Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee: Is this “special coffee”? No.

100. Snake: No. But someday I will, with Michael Douglas, inside the fuselage of a crashed drug-running plane. (Name that movie?)

So how many have YOU eaten?

Happy New Year? (Part 2)

2012-01-01T14:34:00.000-05:00

Last night I had to watch my beloved Hoos get crushed by Auburn, but I am happy to say that the rest of the evening was not nearly so disappointing. I know what you're thinking -- UVA? Win again Cam Newton's old team? But seriously, y'all, I thought we had a chance. I'm going to stop here and take a breath (...........................) so that I don't launch into an angry diatribe about the state of UVA Football's Special Teams and the fact that the kicker needs to GO PLAY SOCCER OR SOMETHING. Another breath (.......................) ahhhh and we are zen. As long as I don't think about it too much.

The rest of my evening was spent playing with my little Bugaboo, eating chili, and beating the pants off of my husband at Canasta (yes I know... we are 80 years old) (and no not *literally* beat the pants off... we were at his parents' house... dangit). Little Parker spent the night with his Mimi and Poppy, so we rushed home as soon as the game was over to pull our Prosecco out of the refrigerator and toast to the New Year!

And speaking of the Prosecco, here is the review I promised you:

Winery: Beviamo
Wine Name: Extra Dry Prosecco
Varietal: 100% Prosecco
Region: Veneto, Italy
Price: $12

Their Description: "This refreshing sparkling delight has flavors of green apples and juicy peaches with just a touch of crisp acidity."
My Description: Green Apple? Yes. Peach? Not so much. And that "touch of crisp acidity" was more like a weird bitterness that you can't quite place (aka "Did I get all of the foil off?" is not a good question to be asking yourself in the middle of your second sip). However, it was not that expensive, and it was New Year's, and I can't help but love wines that sparkle. I think it's just my own fault for acquiring a taste for Veuve-Clicquot in college and not being able to keep up the expensive habit in real life. So really I will never be in looooove with a sparkling wine unless it is legitimate Champagne. Like, from Champagne. I know, I know, I'm getting down off my soapbox. Again.

Also, since we're talking about Veuve-Clicquot, please, for the love of your mama, read this book:

Serving Suggestion: Read cover-to-cover with a glass in hand.

Alright, y'all, that's enough from me. I hope each of you had a wonderful New Year's Eve, wherever in the world you chose to spend it. And I hope your 2012 is absolutely fantastic!

Happy New Year? (Part 1)

2011-12-31T12:06:00.000-05:00

Last day of 2011 and what am I doing? Laundry.

On the upside, in between loads I am currently watching one of my favorite movies of all time (no not The Sound of Music) (no not White Christmas) (no not 500 Days of Summer): Julie and Julia. If you have not seen this movie, you need to watch it, stat. Not that I'm advocating illegally streaming movies over the internet, but if that's what you need to do to watch it....

The Lobster Thermidor Scene :)

Favorite Quotes:

Julie to her husband: "You know what I love about cooking? I love that after a day when nothing is sure, and when I say nothing, I mean nothing, you can come home and absolutely know that if you add egg yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. That's such a comfort."

Paul Child to Julia: "You are the butter to my bread and the breath to my life. I love you darling girl."

And that familiar dingdingding means my clothes are dry, so I'm off to fold before the wrinkles set in. Hope you all are having a great last day of 2011.

P.S. Bought some Prosecco for the festivities tonight -- I really wanted Clicquot (of course), but I am a girl on a budget! Also I absolutely refuse to buy "California Champagne." Get it right people -- if it doesn't come from Champagne it is just sparkling wine, no matter what the label may say. Ok #rantover. Wine review to follow.

I am a bad blogger!

2011-12-30T22:00:00.000-05:00

Ok, so here is the (long and) short of it: since my last blog post I...

Left my old craptacular job
Started a brand new shiny big girl job!
Found a Monday babysitter for little P (at the last minute. of course.) (Love her, btw.)
Finished classes for the semester (PTL!)
Fell in love with a house
Decided to try to buy said house
Hosted BOTH sets of grandparents at my dinky little (current) house for Christmas
Tried (unsuccessfully) to clean up the mess that Christmas left in its wake
Forgot my freakin password to get into this blog

Suffice it to say that I have been one busy lady.

I know it's a terrible excuse to say "I've been too busy to blog!" But seriously guys, I have been swamped.

Never fear, though... because I AM BAAAAAAAAACK.

Now that I've made it through the Holidays and really the only thing looming over my head at the moment (other than the 16 loads of laundry I have yet to do and all the Christmas gifts I still have to find a home for) is gathering up all this paperwork for the mortgage people. Now, really... who knew trying to buy a house was so stressful!? I keep telling myself it's going to be totally worth it when we have something to call our own, though, and I keep praying hard for guidance and patience with this (frustrating, way too detailed, red-tape-full) process.

Anyway, I promise to post soon about Christmas at the Bush House and all the other fun things we've been doing!

lovelovelove you all!

P.S. Notice the timestamp: It's 10pm on a Friday night and I am the only one awake in my house. So am I sitting in the dark along blogging and drinking wine? You tell me.

Rue La La

2011-10-27T12:53:00.000-04:00

I know this blog has mostly focused on baby-related things so far, but there's more to life than diapers and daycare, right?? Right?

So today I'm going to let you all in on a little shopping secret of mine (and the reason everyone gets such nice birthday presents even though my paycheck is... not so nice): RUE LA LA!

This website has great shopping deals! They have a cool format too: each day new "boutiques" open up and they only stay open for a certain amount of time (usually 2 days), and you have that amount of time to buy what you want (usually at a HUGE discount) from that specific boutique. Another cool feature: you only pay shipping once in a 30 day period. You pay $9.95 the first time you ship, and for 30 days after that, everything you order comes with free shipping! This format is especially nice during the holiday season, when I feel like I'm buying gifts constantly!

I order from this site All. The. Time.

I got my mom's birthday gift there (a beautiful blue Le Creuset utensil crock like the one you see below), and I got the baby some sweet kicks for Christmas (who am I kidding? I have gotten that child at least 3 pairs of shoes from Rue La La in the past month... Addiction? Perhaps. Don't tell my husband.).

Here's the catch: You have to be invited to the site to join. Luckily, you have a friend with invites to spare (Me!), so if you would like to check it out, send me an email or leave me a comment and I will send you an invitation.

This site is really great for working or generally busy moms who still want to get their Christmas shopping done in time. Trust me, I am one of them!

Miss Kathy

2011-10-20T17:54:00.000-04:00

One of the scariest parts of knowing I had to be a working mom was finding a babysitter. Can I get an amen from my fellow working moms?? I struggled forEVER trying to think of alternatives: should I be a stay-at-home-mom (months 1-4)? Should Chad be a stay-at-home-dad (months 5-9)? Should I make my parents and my in-laws alternate days so that he can always be with one of us or with one of them? Should I condense my work week so I can have Monday off to have more time with him (current situation)? And then there was Miss Kathy.

Miss Kathy is a babysitter in our area with 15+ years experience, TONS of glowing recommendations, a strict "No Advertise" policy (which means she only takes new kids by word-of-mouth recommendations), a sweet converted basement/play room with everything at kid level and toys and books galore, and a heart of absoulte gold. We love her. Love.

Even today, after almost four months with Miss Kathy, I still feel that same old Mommy Guilt when I drop Parker off in the morning, but I know that he loves her and he has a great time there. (Not only that, but I know that he loves to play with the other kids, and he gets a hot homemade lunch every day, and he takes a good nap everyday in a quiet environment in his own crib (pack and play) and his own blankie and his own Sleep Sheep. Not that I'm a little neruotic about naptime or anything...). In fact, I still tell Parker every morning that we are going "to school," just so he'll know that he's going somewhere to learn and play and have fun, and won't have abandonment issues. Ha. (Ok, so maybe I call it "school" more for my own sake than for his).

Anyway, moral of the story: Sometimes Moms have to work. Thank God for Miss Kathy. If you want her number -- I might give it to you. Especially if there are homemade baked goods involved in the transaction.

-MB

Cloth Diapers

2011-10-19T16:37:00.000-04:00

Ok, I want to tell you all about my one true love. Sorry Chad! Just kidding, y'all, but seriously, I have become kind of an Earth Mother where my child is concerned.

I LOVE cloth diapers. Can I say it again? LOVE.

I initially bought just a couple of cloth diapers because Parker was getting really bad (like, blistery) diaper rash for no good reason and I had read that the natural cloth could make the rash go away quicker. Well, I soon discovered that 1) they are SO cheap 2) they are SO cute 3) it is impossible to buy "just a couple." My poor husband keeps discovering packages from Amazon.com on our doorstep and threatening to divorce me if I don't stop buying them (I kid, but seriously... ).

But can I ask you this? What is better than a diaper you can wash and resue? Yea, occasionally you have to deal with poop, but you have to deal with poop with disposables anyway, right? Right. Everyone has had to deal with blowouts, and let me let you in on a little secret -- blowouts happen LESS often with cloth.

Now if only I could get my husband and babysitter onboard with this idea.

So here's what's ended up happening -- I now have pretty much a full stash of fluff (CD lingo -- I feel like a member of a cool club! Haha), and I use them as much as I can. I am finding that they are especially useful at night (for my heavy wetter I just add another insert), and that they are a TON cheaper (in the long run -- upfront costs for these babys are scary) than spending close to $100 a month at Sam's Club for the huge boxes of disposable diapers, and that I feel a lot better putting my baby in beathable cotton and hemp as opposed to disposable (fake? live in landfills for hundreds of years? whatever material they are made out of?) diapers. Amen.

And here's the thing: once your diaper gets used (peed in or pooped on), you just rinse (if you have...solids) and thrown them in a wetbag till you're ready to wash them. Then wash your inserts and your covers, set the covers in the sun to dry, and throw the inserts in the dryer. How easy is that?

So if you're interested, here's what I recommend:

I am actually a bigger fan of pocket diapers than AIO's, because you can really customize them for your baby. I LOVE the bumGenius pocket diapers. I am also in the process of trying out Thirsties covers with prefolds. If I don't like that I think I'm going to try a slim fitted and put the Thirsties cover over it.
You don't have to buy expensive "cloth diaper" detergent. I use Tide Free and Clear, no problem. (Also I have a High Efficiency washer and you can't really use any of those fancy CD detergents in HE washers)
You can buy them used. Sounds gross at first, but it's really easy to power wash (often called "stripping") a used diaper and have it look (and more importantly smell) brand new.
Buy a wetbag. Listen to me. Buy a wetbag. They actually contain smells BETTER than my Diaper Genie. No kidding.
For solid waste, either buy one of those sprayer things, or if you're cheap like me, invest in a scrub brush you can keep near the toilet and scrub off the junk before you throw the dipe in that wetbag you bought.

It would be super easy to cloth diaper your baby if you happened to be a SAHM, but since I am a Workin Mama, I can really only use cloth at home, and when my husband is cooperating and doesn't sneak the baby back in to sposies (more lingo. ha.). But next baby I have will wear cloth from birth to potty training, without a doubt. I'll just have to find a babysitter who is down with my plan.

Welcome to Blogging?

2011-10-19T16:09:00.000-04:00

Life has been happening at warp speed for me for the past two years! Since January of 2010 I have: moved, graduated college, had a baby, gotten a job, gotten married, moved again, and started graduate school. There is no absence of drama in my life. I am so greatful for the people in my life, and for the experiences I have had that have taught me what's important and what to prioritize.

I hope, through this blog, that I can keep up with the people I care about better (especially the ones who are far away) and let you all know what is going on in my life. I thought a blog would be good because you can choose to follow it or not -- i.e. you won't have to deal with me being an oversharer via Facebook (isn't that so annoying?!) or trying to fit my life into 140 characters on Twitter (though you're welcome to follow my musings @meganbea). I also needed a space where I could really say what I thought (and perhaps sometimes, occasionally be a little controversial/passive aggressive/not PC/what have you), so if that sounds like something you'd like to read, I'm your girl. Well, I guess, this is your blog.

First "real" post (aka actually about my life instead of an intro to my blog) to come soon!