WWSD - Dipshit Friday

I'm sharing a similar thought with Sarah, in her Trenches of Mommyhood, "If a blogger blogs but every other blogger is at BlogHer, will anyone read it?" 

So, as I sit in my kitchen *not* at a bar in NYC, I thought I'd live vicariously by linking to two of my favorite bloggers, one of whom (Sarah) is also *not* at BlogHer but with whom I have shared a drink, and one who is, Jean, Queen of Stimelyand, rodent aficionado, and friend with whom I had dinner at BlogHer '09. One of Jean's newest, funniest, and (IMHO) most brilliant ideas is Dipshit Friday, in which we lay it all out there and share one of life's blunders.  Shall we begin?

Every year, Andy's family plans a week together on Cape Cod.   Nearly every year, we have rented the same house. It's a lovely cottage with plenty of private space for us, the boys, and my mom, who enjoys her own little suite on the first floor away from the chaos that is my immediate family.  One of its best features is a gorgeous deck right off of our 2nd floor bedroom, with a fantastic view of the beach from the side and the river and salt marshes in the back. The Cape tradition started when everyone was in town for Andy's and my wedding, 10 years ago and subsequently, our anniversary frequently falls during our vacation week. 

A few years back, my mom kept the kids so Andy and I could enjoy a nice anniversary dinner, which we did along with a bottle of wine.  Upon returning to the house, we decided to share a romantic drink on the deck, in the moonlight.  Things progressed nicely and maybe a half hour later, Andy and I reentered our bedroom through the open door to (ahem) continue celebrating our anniversary only to find....every surface of the room covered with flying bugs of every description!

For the next hour, we two dipshits jumped across the bed, swinging beach towels, ducking dive-bombing mosquitoes, itching like mad, and spraying anything aerosol at the disgusting (and quite resilient) creatures.  Let's just say that the mood died long before the last of the bugs did and I left Andy to fight the good fight, choosing to sleep on the family room couch.

I was awakened the next morning by my rather confused but smiling mother who admitted that, judging by the racket coming from the ceiling of her bedroom, it definitely sounded as if we had very much enjoyed our anniversary...

Ten Years

+

=

Love You, Babe.  Happily.  Ever and After.

By the Wayside

Things you gave up:

Preemie clothes
0-3 months
6-9 months
12 months
2T
3T
4T
(All Ts)
3:00 am feedings
Baby Food
Baby gates
Baby talk
Being burped
Booster seat
Bottles
Bouncy seat
Breastfeeding
Burp cloths
Co-sleeping (most of the time)
Cradle
Crawling
Crib
Diapers
Diaper bag
Eating spaghetti with your hands (most of the time)
Elmo
Exersaucer
Feety pajamas
Glider in your room
Gymini
High chair
Infant car seat
Infant Tylenol
Mashed bananas
Naps (oh...naps)
Onesies
Pack n play
Peek a boo
Pluggies*
Pull ups
Receiving blankets
Reflux
Rice cereal
Riding backward
Teething
Toddler bed
Tummy time
Screeching when you see the cat
Snaps on your pant legs


But always my babies...

What don't your babies do anymore?

The Rhetorical Husband

1. Do we have milk?
(Hmm. If I had bought milk, where would I put it?)

2. Is this today's paper?
(Let's look at the top. Just below the words, The Boston Globe, what's right there?)

3. Do you know where I took off my watch?
(...?)

4. Do you want me to give Gremlin his bath?
(No! Please. Let me.)

5. Do you know if it's supposed to rain today?
(Well, my trick knee is throbbing...)

6. Do you know where the boys' shoes are?
(See #3)

7. Picks up phone and reads caller ID aloud: 866-222-1000?
(I'm gonna go with "telemarketer"...)

8. Should I have the boys wear their raincoats?
(Is it raining?)

9. Are you watching this?
(Uh-huh...)

10. Are you awake?


What questions do you answer (or ignore)?

Teach Your Children Well

MM: What 'cha doing?


Gremlin: I thought you'd like some wine.

MM: Thanks, Buddy. But not at 10:30 in the morning.


Evidently, he's not just driving me to drink; he's also doing the pouring.

Do You Recognize This Face?

Dear Boys:

Do you know who this is?

It's Mommy. No, really. It is Mommy.

This weekend, while you were making gingerbread men and reading "Gingerbread Friends" with Gram, Daddy and I found our smiles.

We went to a special place in the sky called The Mount Washington Hotel. Just Mom and Dad. No, just Christine and Andy.

We didn't bring the 20-minute conference calls that morph into 2 1/2 hours, or the possibly-totaled Trailblazer, or even the kindergarten transition anxiety (Mommy's, not yours, HRH). We even left the wifi, the Vice Presidential debate, and the $700 billion bail out package at home. We knew it would all be here when we got home -- and it was.

Rather, we slept, and read, and ate, and drank, and talked, and lived.

Mom and Dad LOVE being your parents. There is nothing more important to us than doing that well. But we have been neglecting Andy and Christine lately. And it's shown. In the way we behave toward each other and the two of you. And certainly in the way we treat ourselves. This weekend, while we were here, we remembered to be kind to ourselves. And we remembered our smiles.

I hope we'll be seeing them a lot more.

Wordless Wednesday (with apologies to Jimmy Buffett)

A Pirate Looks at 4T.

RC's new big boy bed.

You Belong To Me

July 15, 2000 Andy and I were married.

He is my best friend, my lover, the best father I could ask for my children, my reward, and the answer to my prayers.

Then we went to Italy:

This is really what Venice looks like from the air, when you're arriving at Marco Polo Airport. I thought I understood a city on canals. I didn't until I saw this.

We walked everywhere in Venice, mostly following our Fodors Guide and getting hopelessly lost.

This is the Grand Canal and it really looks like this.

Everywhere you look is a postcard waiting to be shot.

When my sister, Danni and I were tweens, we stayed up late one night when my parents were out watching a movie called A Little Romance about an American girl and French boy who run away to Venice. They were told by an old man (Sir Laurence Oliver) that if you kissed under the Bridge of Sighs that your love would last forever.

Andy and I kissed under the Bridge during a gondola ride.





Happy Anniversary, Babe. I wouldn't change a minute.

**Except maybe for that labor and delivery part.