Napa

We are off to NAPA tomorrow bright and early.

The Notorious MRA is in excellant hands with his Nana and Baba Angel. They have the routine down, we are packed and with any luck at all we will make it there in one piece with our luggage and not miss the kiddo too terribly much.

Then again, the odds of all going well are slim.

Can you say Delta. Atlanta. Connection.

Pray for us and I will toast you this weekend!

Wordless Wednesday

Happy 5th Anniversary!

It's amazing how fast the past five years has gone. It seems like just yesterday, I was getting ready to walk down the aisle.

It was the best day of my life.

It's hard to beat a beautiful spring day in Charleston surrounded by my closest friends and family and having a fabulous party replete with a tall tray of Krispee Kreme donuts!

Some people say they cannot imagine their life without their partner. Well, this is not true for me.

I can totally imagine life without Jonathan. And, quite frankly, it sucks. I know that a life without him in it would be a life with less joy, less laughter, less understanding, less love, less clean laundry, less wine, less support, and less happiness.

In sum, it would just be a life that was less.

I love you, LB!!

Death by alligator

Did you know, it is possible to have extremely self-destructive thoughts, nearly suicidal, and actually not be suicidal or depressed.

Its true and it happened to me this weekend.

My niece is visiting from North Carolina. We wanted to show her things Floridian that are less common in good 'ole NC.

So, last Sunday, we took her and the Notorious MRA out to Myakka State Park. We spent some time hiking and climbed up into the canopy walk. MRA wanted to wok (walk) or uppp (be carried) alternately, so we all got our exercise.

At the last minute, we decide it would be fun to take an air boat tour so that Alyssa (said niece) could get a good look at the alligators and herons, etc.

Did I mention that this decision was at the last minute and also right at lunchtime/nap time?

In true form, we are the last people to board the completely full boat and thus, our seats are not near each other nor a window.

I have the pleasure of holding MRA on my lap and the boat takes off...slowly, veeerrrrrry slowly - because, wooow-wee, as luck would have it, all the gators are out and everyone from Ohio (which may have been everyone but us) wants to see them. So three deep into the interior of the boat, with little air movement and no window view, some one begins to get a little bit fussy.

All is relatively well until I run out of grapes to feed him and then the Notorious MRA wants to run up and down the aisle, which one cannot do during an air boat tour. He absolutely DOES NOT want to be held. The more I try to hold him, the more he tries to wriggle free and the sweatier (more sweaty?) he and I both get.

As the temper tantrum mounts, the looks from the other passengers change from sympathetic to "your kid is ruining my ride - can't you shut him up!"

And, I don't really have it in me to relive the intensity of the experience but rest assured it was intense. So intense that there was a moment, actually more like 10 minutes, that I considered which would be more painful - continuing to try and hold MRA or jumping in with the alligators.

In the end, I decided that jumping in with the alligators was the better option because if they ate me it would probably be over before the boat ride; but then the girl next to the window offered to switch seats and for the last 10-15 minutes MRA got to look out the window and the passengers could listen to our guide discuss Florida waterfowl.

I am pretty sure that teenager had no idea that she potentially saved MRA from being motherless.

Since getting off the air boat, I have not thought once about swimming with alligators. But, then again, it could have just been the peace and quiet on the way home.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

Baby, I'm A Star

When we had MRA's photos made, ooohhhh about a year ago, we hired a fabulous photographer - Blond Cow Photography.

Don't ask me about the name. I don't know. But, certainly, Kollene Carlsson (who I suppose is the blond cow - but the name does not fit her as a person) and her husband Matthias are great. She really excels at reading and capturing light.

Jonathan sent me her link this morning and asked if I had seen it recently. I had not. He directed me to watch the scrolling images at the top.

 http://blondecowphotography.blogspot.com/2010/06/sarasota-commercial-photographer.html

You guessed it. That little nudie baby, the one with the perfect butt, that's my butterbean.

I love this photo. LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it. So much so, in fact, that I had it blown up, framed, and hung it prominently on the wall by our stairs.

Yes, I know, he will hate me for it at some point. I don't really care. If nothing else, its fantastic blackmail material for his teenage years (and perhaps even during his 20s).

Week 20 belly

I am halfway there!!! According to the doctor, my belly size is perfect but it feels bigger that 20 weeks. And this little wackadoodle already thinks my uterus is Romper Room. He moves and grooves and rolls and quite frankly all I can picture is MRA and this one, a year from now, and the pounding poor Cooper and I are going to take.

(By the way, the Florida legislature has/is discussing a ban on the word uterus in session which, just makes me want to use it all the time. http://articles.orlandosentinel.com/2011-04-06/news/os-cannon-randolph-uturus-20110406_1_uterus-randolph-house-democrats). The fact that this is even a topic of serious discussion, is... well...just sad.

I actually had a hard time getting out of a chair last night. What's a girl to do when the backless bar stool does not provide enough back support and the chairs are too low? In my case, Jonathan had to heave me up and out. lesson learned: Hold out for the perfect chair.

Its official, we're groupies

The good thing about being a groupie in Sarasota is that we weren't the oldest ones there. Nope, not by a loooooonnngg stretch!

That's right, last night was date night with Harry Connick, Jr. And to think we are too old to be groupies, HA, what was I thinking? In this town, being in your late 30s is like just turning 21. Well, except for the kids and the mortgage responsibilities and the yard work and the having to be at the office at specific time... but, ya know, other than that... definitely 21, definitely.

We dropped the Notorious MRA off at our neighbor's house and thank goodness she agreed to watch him as we were out of babysitter options. MRA, appears (at least in the photos) she sent us, to have been quite a little gentleman.

I know it didn't go down quite like this but, looking at the pictures, I can just imagine this little conversation:

Move over baby.

Sure, let me help.

You're kinda cute.

So are you. Wanna head to the park?

So, with the Notorious MRA safe and sound, Jonathan and I were free to enjoy the night.

Harry, as always, put on a great performance. I have seen him in several different type venues and no matter if it was under a tent, in an amphitheater, or before tens of thousands at JazzFest, his shows are always personal and you always feel like you are watching him play in a small venue.

The crowd, however, was lame. Everyone remained sitting, in fact, you did not even see people swaying in their seats. Of course, we were among some of the youngest there.

Thanks to the divine Brian M., we had after show passes.

I tried to be the cutest pregnant chick ever, but was ultimately too shy to go for a kiss.

Turns out that being nearly 40 and backstage is not much different from being 25 and backstage, at least for me. What this means is that I stand around not knowing what to say and then meet the performer and leave. No wild stories for me.

Wordless Wednesday

It's April!

It's Aaaaprilllllll! It's Aaaaapriiiillll!

You may be wondering why such enthusiasm over the month of April. Let me tell you.

April is our anniversary month. This year will be our 5th! To celebrate, we are headed to Napa at the end of the month. Now, you probably don't have any idea the restraint that I must exercise to simply say, "We are going to Napa." But, trust me when I say, the restraint.... its a lot.

Inside my head, I am singing, "We're goin' to Naaaaaapaaaaa. We're goin' to Naaaaapa. By. Our. Selves.

That's right, just Jonathan and me. Napa. All by ourselves. Of course, when we planned this trip, I was not pregnant so the trip involved a lot more strictly adult type activity. But... here I am and there I will be. In Napa. We have our winery appointments all lined up. Our fancy, schmancy hotel - Miliken Creek Inn - all reserved, even Sunday brunch at Ad Hoc.

And so what if I am a little pregnant. I will be in Naaaaaapaaaaa, where I can sleep whenever I want, for how ever long I would like and I don't have to answer to the three foot tall dictator that rules our house with an iron sippy cup toddler (who I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE).

I am goin to NAAAAAAPPPPA, with the first love of my life. And we will be all alone, with picnics and wine tastings (they have spit buckets) and beautiful scenery.

In my world, right now, April means NAAAAAAPPPPPPAAAAAA and a very happy, very adult, very alone anniversary. I am counting the days.