11 May 2012

When he's away...

I will play!
This is my idea of a party (and Fox agrees!)...a glass of Riesling and the most artificial delicious ice cream I could find.
My personal chef husband has been gone all week.  I actually don't remember the last time I ate something green.  I have been surviving on frozen waffles (organic!), school lunches (cheese fries!), bananas, and ice cream.  And to think that I used to be the healthy one...

09 May 2012

9 months ago...

Nine months ago, I was nine months pregnant.  Nate and I finished off our last dinner as a family of two.  He went outside to cut the grass; I did laundry, tidied the house, washed dishes, and then, with a tee-shirt stretched over my very pregnant belly, plopped down on the couch to write.  I could scarcely contain myself.  I was nervous, excited, thrilled.  I barely slept that night (or any night for almost a week after that), so anxious was I to meet our little baby boy.

Nine months ago, I had no idea what I was in for: the tears and fears, the joy and laughter, the overwhelming love.  I had no idea that, in nine short months, one little fellow could, and would, so radically transform my life.
I certainly had no idea that this wrinkly little bit...

...would turn into this little boy!

04 May 2012

Thursday's thoughts on Friday

  • Henry's teachers referred to him as a "little Casanova."  Apparently he's popular with the little girls, who spend their days smiling and giggling at him and trying to play with him.  Who wouldn't want to play with this little fellow? 
  • My sweet husband wears a shirt and tie to work.  I iron his shirts.  Except for when I don't.  And then I end up with a stack of 20 shirts needing to be ironed.  That's how I spent my free time last weekend.  I know what I should, but won't, do tomorrow.  
  • Months ago, said husband asked if I would like to spend Mother's Day alone with Henry, just the two of us.  At the time, I laughed and told him that wasn't really my idea of the ideal Mother's Day.  As it turns out, Nate will be out of town, so we will be spending the special day alone and I don't mind a bit.  I think Henry might just take me out for breakfast.   
  • The giant neighborhood yard sale is next weekend.  Thinking of all the things I could sell, I signed up.  As the day nears, I am remembering how much I dislike yard sales.  The very idea of it makes me let out an exasperated sigh.  But I have approximately 172 onesies and sleepers that I'd like to be removed from the middle of the guestroom floor.  I'll be selling them for a quarter for a (hopefully) quick and painless sale.  
  • There is one month of school remaining.  That requires no explanation.