Party Week: Part 2
After my friend's wedding, we skedaddled back home to begin what can only be described as the Week o' Family. My family, Chris's family, more of Chris's family, even more of Chris's family (he has a very large extended family who incidentally live right near us. We showed up at their houses and they had food! and wine! and cute outfits for LG! Truly awesome people), more of my family, and...You get the idea.
Chris's party was Saturday and I normally don't throw the word "epic" around like everyone else on the Internet seems to, but it really was epic. The proof is in the pictures...
First a picture of LG, because I know she's all anyone cares about anymore.
It was a green-themed party, as the bee-day boy's favorite color is green. Also, that is a lot of sangria. Naturally, it was gone by the end of the night.
Because man cannot survive on sangria alone, we had to have a keg. Please notice Chris color-coordinated his outfit with his party decor. Tres chic.
Family photo! LG looks displeased, as per usual. And why wouldn't she be? One of her many minions (grandmas) wasn't holding her.
Uncles (and a dad) in cargo shorts! At one point I took inventory and almost every single male at the party was wearing cargo shorts. They ARE the tuxedo of shorts, as Chris says. Very party appropriate.
LG looking quite festive. And sleepy. 'Tis a lot of work being passed from great-grandma to grandma to great-grandma to great-grandma to grandma.
Speaking of grandmas...
...And grandpas...
...And BFFs with adorable daughters who wear pink rompers and pearls...
...And moms...
...And parents...
...And morning-after bloody marys...
...It was an epic party indeed.
Party Week: Part 1
First of all, thank you for all the party ideas from my last post. Pinatas filled with booze? Booze luges? It's like you've been to this site once or twice! Sadly, in the end, I was too busy/stressed/etc. with everything going on that I didn't have time to shop for wee plastic bottles of whiskey and gin, but trust me, it was a great party regardless.
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The past couple weeks have been a whirlwind of out-of-town beach wedding and family visiting and party-throwing and finally (FINALLY) it's just the three of us and I can sit down for a second and regroup. I also don't have to wear pants if I don't want to, but that's neither here nor there.
Anyway, since there's been SO much party up in here, I thought I'd break it down and tackle them one by one.
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Almost two weeks ago, Chris, LG, and I headed five hours south to my friend-from-junior-high's wedding. I didn't really allow myself to think too much about traveling with a baby, instead just throwing things together last minute so as to save myself from any possible disappointment when things didn't go as planned. There was no plan! So things went great! In fact, the morning we left, I asked Chris, "How many blankets does LG need? Three should be enough, right?" to which Chris responded, "She can't possibly ruin three blankets in one day." Now, I know all you mothers and fathers out there just collectively gasped because once you put something like that out there, yes, in fact, your child WILL ruin all three blankets and possibly some hotel towels too, but because she loves us, LG didn't ruin even one blanket.
Anyway, the wedding was a great time, as evidenced by this picture:
I'm not ENTIRELY sure what we're doing here, but I think it was after several shots of whiskey, so we were obviously having a blast.
Here's a picture of us looking a little more presentable; one of these days I'll get my shit together enough to either bring the big camera (and more importantly, USE IT) or at least have someone take our picture with my iPhone. Until then, it's self-portraits:
Who the hell cares about these two? WHERE'S THE BABY?!
Here she is:
She had THE MOST adotable outfit care of Chris's Uncle Rick and Aunt Roz and of course I neglected to get a proper picture. BUT. In my defense, she was an absolute terror all afternoon (but was an angel during the ceremony, THANK GOD), so I was a little hesitant to take her out of her seat, lest we become the official wedding ruiners.
I only wish we'd had more time to wander around the beach (Avila Beach, for those curious), because I think traveling with a newborn could really be my cup of tea: Wake up, eat breakfast, take a nap, eat lunch, take another nap, eat dinner, go to bed.
Luckily, though, I did remember to get a picture of LG in her hoodie:
COULD YOU JUST DIE?
Tomorrow I'll take my pictures off the real camera and fill you in on Chris's birthday party, but for now -- Chris's ACTUAL birthday -- I'm going to go hang out with my two favorite people*.
*One of whom will not stop crying and it's not the one who turned 30 today.
Party people in the house
Hey Internet, I need your advice.
Chris's 30th birthday party is this Saturday and we're having a big shindig to celebrate.
We've got the food, as well as the booze, handled (OF COURSE) and I think I have most everything else (games, etc.) handled as well, but I thought I'd do one final check to see if I'm missing anything.
So. Is there anything you've done or seen at a party that made it, like, the BEST EVER? (Could be anything big or small, decor, food, music, whatever.) Please to share in the comments!
…When hearts like ours meet
What's your song? You know...The song that makes you call your significant other and tell him, "Turn on 94.9!" when it comes on the radio?
Ours is Social Distortion's cover of Johnny Cash's "Ring of Fire"
Oh HELLO THERE, Mike Ness. I mean Chris. HELLO THERE, Chris.
Although that's "our song," we actually danced to Etta James's "Sunday Kind of Love" at our wedding. Phenomenal dancers though we may be, it is sort of difficult to slow dance to...Whatever it is "Ring of Fire" is.
When choosing a first dance song, I knew I wanted something from this genre, but not the obvious "At Last." I randomly heard this song come on the jukebox at the bar where Chris and I met and that was it. Done!
So! What's your song? And while we're at it, what's your sign? I'm an Aquarius.
She get it from her papa
When I was a baby, I looked exactly like my mom. You could take a picture of her at one year old and compare it to a picture of me at one year old and it's like we're the same person. I sort of assumed this would how it would be with LG. She'd pop out looking like a Mini Me, naturally, right?
Well. She popped out and looked...Like neither of us, really. She certainly didn't look a thing like me and didn't really seem to look like Chris, either. Or so I thought.
Then I received some baby pictures of Chris from his grandma and HOLY SHIT:
Twins. These two are TWINS.
Chris doesn't see the resemblance (how he doesn't is beyond me) but to me it's crystal clear. She get it from her papa, FOR SURE.
Instinct this
When I was pregnant, a lot of people would tell me, "Don't worry, your mothering instinct will kick right in!" which never made sense to me, as I never expressed any real concern over my mothering instinct or lack thereof.
Were these people just projecting their insecurities onto me? Did they take my constant "I'm terrified!"s to mean I was concerned about my mothering instinct? Were they concerned about my mothering instinct?
It may come as a surprise to you, but I haven't ever been, and continue to not be, concerned about my mothering instinct. I am actually quite a good nurturer. I give good back scratches. I always make sure people are fed and watered (or wined.) I write the twice-monthly checks to our cleaning lady to ensure we don't live in filth. See? Good nurturer.
I'm not particularly religious, but I do think God pairs you up with the perfect little mate, baby-wise. Someone for whom your motherly instinct (whatever that means for you) kicks in, even when you really have no idea what you're doing.
For example, I had never changed a diaper before, but when LG has soiled herself YET AGAIN, I change her diaper, no problem. I had never (physically) fed a human before, but when LG is hungry, I toss her a boob or a bottle, again, no problem. If she's crying, I swaddle her and if she continues to cry, I unswaddle her and if she still continues to cry, I swaddle her yet again. And if she still won't shut her trap, I yell, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WAAAAAAANT and...She continues to cry. That's just my mothering instinct and it seems to be working for me.
Okay, okay, what's actually working for me is Chris, who is like the baby whisperer. If she's crying and crying and crying and WILL NOT SHUT HER TRAP, I can hand her off to Chris and, ahh, instant silence. Chris is the far preferable parent and I can't say I blame her. He is pretty damn awesome.
Unfortunately, after three (glorious!) weeks of Chris being off work, he goes back on Monday and to say I'm sad is an understatement. No more sleeping in until 8am. No more 20 minute showers. No more baby whisperer. Just me and LG, my perfect mate, trying to figure out what in the hell we're doing. But I have my mothering instinct, which I'm sure will carry me through. I know it will. I think it will. I hope it will. I know it will.
I’ve always said he was useful
Chris turned this*:
Into THIS:
And now our kid has a place to get her bum cleaned. By me. I'll be cleaning her bum. One of us has drawn the short stick here. (Think I can train her to clean my bum instead? Didn't think so.)
*This was Chris's baby changing table. He used it as a dresser from childhood up until we bought adult furniture about a year ago.
First Day Of My Life*
A couple weeks ago, Chris's BlackBerry went kaput and so we had to go, like, an entire day and a half without texting. We've been texting as our primary means of communication since he first dropped me off from a morning/day/night of hanging out and accidentally texted the wrong Sarah. And then he texted me, the right Sarah, and we haven't stopped texting since.
Anyway, his phone died and so I went through my Gmail archives and found the first email I'd sent to his work email the Monday after we met, March 24, 2007. And then, to be all sentimental and shit, I sent him an email under that email thread. And then like that Monday after we first met, I waited around all day for him to respond, all goofy and excited.
But this is neither here nor there! The point is, this season -- the end of March, beginning of April -- marks my favorite time of year. Four years ago during this time, I was a newly single, ready to mingle lady who didn't want anything more than to date a bunch of random dudes, go out, drink a lot, and have FUN.
And then life threw Chris at me and man, fun is what I got.
Next month (NEXT MONTH, HELP ME) I'll be having a baby with the baddest mother fucker out of all the bad mother fuckers.
Life's Good.
*Bright Eyes. (Shamelessly stole the song-title-as-blog-post-title thing from Jonna.)
I don’t really like talking about my flare
A glimpse into a typical day 'round here:
Me: Didn't you play an instrument? What was it...The clarinet?
Chris: NO. I played the saxophone.
Me: Oh, like Lisa Simpson?
Chris: NO. Like Bill Clinton.
And then someone starts singing "Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta" and then we watch "Office Space."
Here’s to the next seven*
Thank you for all your fashion help on this post. The general consensus was that brown and black is a-ok and so I went with it (and - a bonus - everything fit!)
Here's the outfit, complete with an orange sweater, natch):
Photo taken outside my very favorite place in Napa, Domaine Carneros.
Since Napa Valley is right in our backyard, it's sort of taken over as our local bar. We try to spend a lot of time there (usually when I'm not pregnant, of course) but have had a hard time finding a place that doesn't do the traditional wine tasting and is close to our house (i.e.: in the city of Napa, as opposed to say, St. Helena, which is still considered Napa Valley but is waaaaay further north.)
Enter Domaine Carneros. I think they do traditional wine tastings and tours, but every time we've gone, we've just sat out on the patio, shared a bottle of bubbly ($26 - a steal!), and admired the views:
When we were there for my birthday, we decided to join their wine club (complete with a shipment of a Holiday Magnum every November - yes please!) and because we were joining the club, our waitress kept bringing out more and more champagnes for us to taste. We'd come there with the intention of having one glass of bubbles, but one quickly turned into...
I didn't have the heart to tell her to stop bringing more champagne, "Because, uhh, I'm actually pregnant," so Chris took one (or three) for the team.
Before Domaine Carneros, though, we headed over to Sonoma for lunch at The Girl and the Fig and then after Domaine Carneros, we came home where I was treated to a feast of lobster tail and steamed mussels. All in all, a fabulous birthday.
(More pictures can be found on my Flickr page.)
*My dad always says life is broken up into seven year cycles - every seven years, you grow and change - and this year begins my forth cycle, which, judging from the obvious I'M GOING TO HAVE A BABY, should be full of change and growth right from the get-go.
Flickr
