Hostess with the Mostest

This week, Kayla and I hosted the Moms and Babies Group for the first time. What this meant was that we not only had to clean the house, but we had to prepare food. Holy return to reality! Cooking has occurred all too rarely around here since Kayla was born. I feel a little bad about that, but you try putting together anything more than a sandwich when your infant is awake. Babies do not have a ton of patience when it comes to meal preparation. If you've ever seen one wake up hungry, you know this to be true. Regardless, I felt a little guilty only serving store bought stuff Wednesday afternoon, so in an attempt to relearn the kitchen, I did in fact manage to prepare guacamole from scratch. This involves chopping and mashing and seasoning, people...be impressed. I also cut up some strawberries. Ooooh. And I poured ice water into a pitcher and put pretzels into a bowl. Aaaaah. It was quite the production.

Actually, far more than the snack preparations, figuring out how to fit 12 women and their babies into the apartment was the real trick.



Those of you who have lived in houses for awhile now have no idea how funny it is to move back into an apartment. When I think that we used to throw parties for 50+ people, I am amazed. Here, we had to move furniture out of the living room just to make room for 12! That said, there is nothing more adorable than having your apartment floor literally covered in babies and these particular babies...well, they are some of the cutest, smiliest kids you have ever seen. Well, all except for Kayla. Kayla is apparently a little overwhelmed by big loud groups of people and she tends to either go to sleep or get fussy. Part of me can't blame her - 12 women and 12 3-6 month olds in one room really is quite the scene. Another part of me really wants her to buck up and quit being so anti-social. Come on, Kayla...you're freaking adorable. Show it off just a little, would ya?

You Know You're Old When...

When I was 20, I thought that 30 was old. Now that I'm 30, I know that my 20-year old self was right. 30 IS old. 30 is really old. It might not be so old, except that being 30, for me, has meant becoming a parent and there is something inherently old in that, even when you're young. Chris and I had our oldness pounded over our heads the other night when we went out for Date Night. I think just having to plan a Date Night automatically throws you into the old fart category, but having to plan ahead, book a babysitter, get home at a reasonable time...it really drove the point home in a knife to the gut kind of way. Also, we both got dressed up for Date Night. That's right, I took a decent amount of time getting ready because the reality is that there just aren't that many nights lately when I have a good excuse to get really dolled up. The fact that I was actually going out to an adults only dinner and might, GASP, even get to drink a couple glasses of wine and eat a full three course LEISURELY meal...time to break out the fancy.

Our big Date Night plans - dinner and a movie. That's right...we finally got a night out of the house and we went to the movies. You see, the movies used to be a boring Friday night. The movies used to be what we did when we didn't have plans. Now, going to the movies is a serious luxury and I, honest to God, was SO EXCITED to get into that theater Friday night. I have watched a summer of blockbusters pass me by and getting to finally go see a feature film...woooooohoooooo. We saw Inception, which was pretty fabulous, but I would recommend seeing it earlier in the day. Seeing it just a couple of hours before bedtime is a guaranteed way to have some seriously confused dreams. Anyhow, so yes, we got to go to the movies and yes, I got to eat a three course meal and yes, we are old beyond our years, but ah well...tis the Circle of Life, no?

So There I Was...and Other Tales of Accidental Births

One of the terrifying things about working from home is that you learn all about daytime television. Today, I learned that there is a show called "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant". On today's episode, a 21-year old woman gave birth to a baby in her toilet. She sat down, feeling extremely constipated and pushed and pushed until *oops!* a baby popped out. She didn't realize it was a baby and not a BM until she tried to stand up and found that she was attached, via umbilical cord, to a baby in the bowl. No, I am not making this up. Now listen...I understand that there are a lot of stupid people out there, truly I do. It is damned near impossible to believe that you could go through nine months of pregnancy without realizing that something's up, but I've heard of it happening before and I can even believe that some people are so ignorant and out of tune with their bodies, that this does happen to them. Okay, no, I can't really believe that, I mean seriously...what funky stuff is wrong with your body that having a mini-human kicking around in there doesn't feel strange to you? What kind of crazy extra weight must you be carrying to not notice that you've suddenly gained an 8-lb person? But, because they kind of skipped over that whole bit in the tv episode I was watching, let's just focus on the final act. You are trying to tell me that you went into labor and just thought you were constipated? You are telling me that contractions felt like gas pains to you? Or that pushing out a BABY felt like taking a pooh? (Wow have I had a lot of pooh posts lately...)
Seriously...if you have been going through life such that your bowel movements feel like full on labor and birth, you should have seen a doctor a long LONG time ago. What have you been doing to yourself? And what the HECK have you been eating?

Is it wrong of me to think that if you can go through 9 months of pregnancy without realizing you're carrying a baby that maybe you aren't qualified to be a parent? There are a lot of subtleties involved in parenting and I'm thinking that if you can't manage to figure out you're giving birth, then figuring out when your child is hungry, tired, or ill is probably going to be a bit beyond you. Am I wrong?

Baby Einstein to the Rescue

Dude...

Okay, I know that TV is bad for kids, rots their brains, makes them fat, etc., etc. That sad, today I introduced my baby to Baby Einstein and by God...she LOVES it. LOVES it. I can't believe it. We are on the 7th minute and she is just sitting there...staring and occassionally flapping her arms and feet. There is some fabulous chimey music, a lot of bright moving shapes and she is totally intrigued. I brought it out thinking, "Yeah, right. The kid is totally going to want to watch TV. She can't even locate her feet yet - how is a DVD going to grab her attention." But it has! I figure it's like the mobile on crack! There are lights and music and bright moving objects and it doesn't matter that she hasn't the faintest clue what "water" is or what those little floating animals with the fins and gills are - they are 100% entertainment, that's what they are.

I almost don't know what to do...Do I let it keep going until she's sick of it or do I cut it off before it gets old? I don't want to ruin the magic that is this newfound distraction. Now, for those of you who are worried about brain rotting, first off, let me just say that the video is totally teaching her things. It is showing her pictures of the ocean and saying "ocean". Then it shows her other kinds of "water" and explains "water". In fact, in some ways it is far more educational than me sitting above her making googly eyes and blowing raspberries, trying to get her to smile. Not that I don't educate her, mind you. Earlier today we took a walk and I totally pulled down a tree branch so she could see it and touch it. Yeah, awesome mom! But, come on...even the most energetic mom needs a break now and then.

Okay, for real, the kid is cooing like crazy at the TV...LOVES it. This is so exciting...this means momma may have found a part-time nanny who is not only legal, but who speaks fluent English and for whom mommy has already paid the appropriate taxes, no questions asked. If I can get Baby Neptune to babysit Kayla for just a few short periods every day, maybe I can put off daycare a little longer. Did I talk about my daycare experience? I can't remember. The short story is that I went to look at a daycare center the other day and about cried looking through the window at the "cocoon room". It's pathetic...the older kids looked perfectly happy. The staff seemed really nice. The place was clean and full of fabulous toys, etc., but the babies...there they were lying about, 10 of them and only 4 "teachers". One was sobbing his eyes out and though the teacher was holding him, it still just broke my heart. Another one was lying on the floor, a bottle propped in his mouth with a towel...They were all fine, really they were, but I just couldn't stand it. The thought of dropping Kayla off there and her not getting all the love and cuddles that she gets at home was depressing. Not what I expected. I expected to feel sad the first time I dropped her off, but the first time I went to look? Oi. It's such a tough decision. On the one hand, I am dying for a couple days a week where I can just be by myself - not only have time for work, but also for getting in a long run, some shopping, a trip to the gym...the things I have to give up now when I am working my full-time job plus taking care of her. There are only so many hours in a day and between her and my paying job, there's no time for extra activities. And so, yes, the idea of having some free days all to myself is super appealing. That said, the idea of sending her off somewhere where she may be unintentionally minorly neglected...ugh. Heart-wrenching. I don't know if I can do it. I think that's why the search for daycare has been taking so long. Well, that and the fact that it took me awhile to realize that a nanny wasn't going to be as easy a proposition as I had thought.

What to do...what to do...

What I really want is for Kayla to sleep til 10am, get up for a couple hours, then go back down for a 3 hour nap, then take a shorter nap in the evening, before going down for the night around 9pm. Is that so much to ask for? Okay, yes, it is. I don't really want a constantly drowsy child, but man...it would make organizing my day a whole lot easier.

A well...for now, we'll see how Baby Einstein does and then...well, then we'll revamp again.

Randomness Alone

Before we get into the meat of things, just a few more pictures from the weekend.






and now...a few random observations/contemplations.

1) You know you live in a kid-heavy town when you walk into Starbucks and the two burly men sitting by the door are talking about how "pumping can increase your milk supply".

2) I oh so miss having a house of my own. I didn't think I was madly in love with my house while we were living in it, but now that I am back in a rental, I am realizing how much I could have/should have done with our place when I had the chance. When/If we move back in, I will be ready for some remodeling and redecorating.

3) If you are going to speak loudly on your cell phone while sitting outside in the midst of a bunch of tables, you should at least refrain from commenting on other people's baby names. Obnoxiously loud lady to my left just informed her friend that she can't believe anyone would choose the name Kayla...mmhmm.

4) My child has the bizarre habit of being perfectly adorable and sweet all day, but then I take her to a public event - yoga, playgroup, etc. - and suddenly she is grouchy and miserable. I don't want to judge her, but truly...why the unhappy public persona?

5) Knowing that the grass is always greener doesn't help to brighten your own grass when you're in the midst of a grass envy moment.

6) The harmonica is a hugely underrated instrument. There is a man who lives in an upper floor apartment on Washington Street and plays his harmonica near the open window across from a cafe. I love listening to him.

7) If I lived above harmonica man, I would probably like him a whole lot less.

7) My husband is 1,000 times more amazing as a dad than I ever knew he could be and I was pretty darned convinced he'd be impressive.

8) A few minutes of alone time each day can make a world of difference in how I feel about being a stay at home mom. I am realizing that sending Kayla off to daycare will break my heart, but am also realizing that I need just a little time each afternoon to get out, breathe and recoup.

9) A baby's pout is perhaps the most heartbreaking sight in the world.

10) If you could bottle baby scent, you would be a millionaire. It is so sad to think that Kayla won't always smell the way she does now. That snuzzleable, edible, yummy-beyond-description smell is the best.

10 is a round number and seems a good place to stop. Some postings are more enlightened than others and this one basic at best. Mea culpa, readers. Mea culpa.

Not Your Average Granola

Before Kayla was ever born, I was worried about her impact on Mother Earth. Having read a lot about the worrisome environmental impact of disposable diapers and cloth diapers alike, I essentially educated myself into a dark pit of dispair regarding the effect that the birth of my daughter would have upon our planet. Neither option, cloth or disposable, seemed particularly Earth friendly and once Kayla was born and I saw the mind-boggling number of diapers she could go through in one 24 hour period, I was not only further disturbed by the number of disposables we were putting into the trash each week, but also 100% convinced that there was no way I was going to be able to go cloth. Not only was I not willing to buy the 1,000 cloth diapers I would have needed just to keep up with her newborn mess, but I also could no longer believe that cloth was more Earth friendly based on the amount of water and electricity that would go into washing diapers alone each day. Add to that the realization that if poopy diapers go into the washing machine then some fecal matter must get left behind, meaning that when I then use said washing maching for all of our clothes, sheets and towels, they must get a small amount of said fecal matter swooshed around with them as well and you have a big old "Hell No" from Erin on the cloth diaper issue.

So what is a new mama to do?

Well, this week I finally decided to give the seemingly best solution out there a try. The diapers are called gDiapers and they are purported to be the new "hybrid" diaper.



They are essentially cloth diapers that are outfitted with plastic internal liners. Inside that liner, you then place a flushable/compostable pad that traps all the excrement. When you change the diaper, you simply remove the pad, ideally leaving both the plastic liner and cloth diaper clean, tear it apart and flush it down the toilet. Brilliant, right? And it was. The first dozen times we used them, Kayla peed, we whipped off the still clean diaper, disposed of the magical flushable pad and VOILA! A perfect, Earth-friendly solution. And then the pooh came...

Yesterday, for the first time, Kayla managed to launch a mega pooh while wearing the gDiaper. Now, in all fairness, the gDiaper held up well. There was a TINY bit of poop on the cloth portion, a little bit more on the plastic liner, but for the most part nearly all the pooh was contained on the flushable pad. GREAT SUCCESS! Or so I thought, until I realized that I was going to have to remove that pad, tear off its sides and flush it. Now, if you have ever seen newborn poop, it isn't exactly one manageable piece. It is wet. It is pervasive. It is disgusting. Needless to say, trying to pick up a pad soaked in it...not easy.

There are things a mother does of which she would never previously have believed herself capable. One of those things, my friends, is bare-hand disposal of a pooh-pad. That's right, in the name of saving the Earth, I took that pooh covered pad in hand, walked it over to the bathroom and then, as gingerly as I could, I ripped off its edges and tried to shake out the inner core (which has to be separated and swizzled in the toilet bowl before it dissolves enough to be flushed). Let me just say that 1) Ripping off the edges without touching the pooh...not possible and 2)Shaking out the inner core when there is heavy pooh atop the outer liner...near impossible. Essentially, gDiaper, your ickiness quotient, when dealing with pooh rather than pee, is out of this world. And now I don't know what to do. Do I stick with the gDiapers, accepting that my fingers will be doomed to years of humiliating BM-cleaning servitude or do I call it a day and go back to only using disposables, saving myself a few gagging sessions and probably thousands of dollars in hand-sanitizing soaps? Don't get me wrong...I expected to touch some pooh as a mom - it is in the basic job description, certainly. But this...this is a little different because it is not just accidental pooh touching, it is focused, concentrated pooh handling by the end of each diaper emptying session and that...that is just a whole other level...

Livin' is Easy

Ahh...summertime.



The summer has been such a wonderful blur of visits and visitors. As you know, if you've been reading the blog all along, our last year here (Oh my gosh! We've been here almost a year!) has been a weird mix of loneliness, excitement, boredom and constant stimulation. Say what? Basically, we've been loving the lifestyle of Hoboken and NYC. The lifestyle here really suits us. I love the energy of the city, the constant "something new". I love the way it all reminds me so much of Europe with our ability to walk anywhere and everywhere, with our access to so much within such a short distance. I love this life. That said, it has also been lonely moving here. Having been in DC for such a long time, it was hard to leave behind our friends and, to a certain extent, my family. It was hard too giving up my office job and transitioning to working from home. I realize there are so many advantages and yet there is so much I miss about being in the hard-charging office environment.

The summer has been a wonderful release from the ups and downs that have somewhat plagued the last year. It seems like we've had constant visits from friends (old and new) and when people aren't coming here, we're heading out to see them, rather at a family wedding or just for a brief weekend get-together. This month, especially, has been fabulous. First we had Andrea and Darren here for the Fourth, then my mom came up for a week, followed by The Ducks for three days, followed immediately by the Longfellows who just left this morning and now we only have a week before Lucy arrives with her family and that will take us straight through to Beach Week. Phew! It is craziness and chaos and I love it. We so rarely had downtime in DC and while I recognize the value in downtime now (even more so since Kayla's arrival), I miss the constant action of a full day's work, followed by happy hour, followed by a volleyball game, followed by a soccer match...I know running around with my hair on fire used to occasionally drive me crazy, but I loved it all the same.

But enough about me...

This past weekend, The Longfellows came to visit and it was a fabulous time for all. Janie, Dave and Adam hadn't seen Kayla since she was a teeny tiny thing and so to see her now, all wide-eyed and active, was quite a change. Janie, herself, is now about 8 months pregnant with a little girl of her own, so we're hoping that seeing and holding little Kayla got her even more excited about her upcoming new addition. Snuzzler certainly helped out by being on her best, most adorable behavior.



Adam, as well, got a little taste of what it might be like to have a baby sister.



I don't think he was overly impressed with Kayla's constant sleeping or lack of puzzle building capabilities, but he was adorable holding her and it was good practice for his "gentle" skills. The kid is only 4 years old, but he is built like a mack truck, so learning that babies are a little more delicate...well, he's getting that down.



We ran those poor Longfellows ragged this weekend. Having lived here for a year now, we forget that not everyone thinks 15 blocks is a "short walk", so we hauled the poor 4-year old, his pregnant mama, and his patient dad, around the city all weekend. Friday we took them up to Central Park for a ride on the carousel and a trip to the zoo.









Later that night we headed back downtown for a fabulous NYC dinner at Megu. It was a risky endeavor with the kiddos, not typically the kind of place you'd take a toddler and an infant, but we're getting braver and braver as time goes on. Plus, once you've got the baby, you can either take it with you where YOU want to go or you can fall into a trap of never going anywhere that's not "for baby" again. And so we went. And it actually went really well! Kayla was such a trooper. She sat in her car seat and giggle and smiled at the ceiling, the lights, the table legs and anything else that struck her fancy. She is such a patient kid...I can't get over how calm and accommodating she's become.





Saturday was spent searching for "real New York bagels", exploring the Children's Museum of Manhattan, eating ourselves silly at Dylan's Candy Bar, and walking through FAO Schwartz dreaming of days when Snuzzles will be ready to play dress up. Quote of the day from the little ones, "Excuse me, Daddy. I put my finger in my nose, but then I didn't put it in my mouth." Nice.

All in all, the weekend was fabulous and it was hard to watch the Longfellows leave this morning. Again, I just wish we could transport all our DC people up here. Hoboken would be perfection then.

Post Part 2 - New Issues

I mentioned in my last real post that part of what's been keeping us busy these last few weeks has been having to deal with new issues. Well, I am happy to report that, as of today, the new issue is no more.

Basically, two weeks ago we had an impromptu visit to the doctor. For a few days in a row, Kayla's first diaper of the morning would have a tiny bit of pink in it alongside the urine. The first time we thought it was a fluke - maybe some weird coloring in the diaper. By the third time though, we were a little worried and though it was an awfully pink pink, we thought it might be blood or something else equally worrisome, so off to the doctor we went. They tested her urine and found no traces of blood - phew! But, that didn't solve the mystery of the pink. As the doc was telling us about all the possible explanations for the pink (protein deposits, me eating too many cranberries...), I brought up the fact that when the nurse weighed her, I noticed that she hadn't gained a single ounce since our visit two weeks prior, saying to the doctor, "Well, could the pink have anything to do with her lack of weight gain? Shouldn't she have gained weight since our last visit?" I kid you not, the doctor hadn't even looked at her chart. I don't think she would have even mentioned the weight gain (or lack thereof) if I hadn't pointed it out (perhaps this is why Chris insists we try to only go on days when the male doctor is there). So, she looks at Kayla's chart and says "Oh yes...she should be gaining more like 5-10oz a week...". ACK! Mommy Alarm Going Off!!! What do you mean she should have gained 5-10oz and she's gained 0? What is happening to my baby???? So we have this whole discussion about eating habits and me needing to ensure that Kayla starts bulking up, during which the doctor tells me that I need to maybe start supplementing with formula and that I definitely need to start waking Kayla up to eat in the middle of the night.

...

Wake her up? Are you CRAZY? I think you better give me Plan B because we aren't going for Plan A. Wake her up?? The kid sleeps through the night. Like sleeps for a straight 8-10 hours. If you think I'm going to wreck that, you are dreaming. I'm happy to pump her full of additional food during the day, but if you think I'm going to teach her to start waking up every 3-4 hours again, you are smoking something seriously strong...both mama and baby are MUCH happier when getting a good night's rest, so...maybe she can just be a little skinnier? No?

Anyhow...

So, I left the doctor's office a wreck. Not only was I terrified at Kayla's lack of weight gain (my baby!!!!), but I was also traumatized by the idea that I might have to start ruining what had become a beautiful sleep schedule. And supplementing...a whole new issue to add into the mix. Everything you read about supplementing is that it is harder on their tummies (oh great. back to the bad tummy.) and that it isn't nearly as nutritionally beneficial as breastmilk (guilt. guilt. guilt.)

The reality is that I had thought maybe my milk supply was decreasing. Too many nights of Snuzzles sleeping for 10 hours straight and a series of days in which we were traveling, at big events, etc., and it was tough to fit in pumping, had definitely made a difference in how "full" I was feeling. Even before I'd found out Kayla hadn't gained weight, I was starting to worry that maybe my milk supply was running low and, whether or not that was the real cause, finding out that Kayla hadn't gained enough weight just solidified my fears. It's a strange thing too...when the doctor first told me I'd have to start supplementing, it didn't really bother me. I thought "Well, in some ways that will probably be really convenient. No more trying to subtly breastfeed at the restaurant table...", but by that night, I was in tears. Something about feeling like maybe I couldn't provide for her just really bothered me. I hadn't expected it at all. I think with motherhood comes a strong new dose of guilt. You suddenly feel so responsible for this little being you're raising and the slightest inkling that maybe you're not doing an absolutely perfect job just tears you apart. Ridiculous, right? But that first night as I watched her get frustrated breastfeeding and then watched her gulp down a supplementary bottle, I felt my heart break and my whole chest swell with this irrational feeling of having failed her in some way. You truly can't fully explain how intensely you feel about your child...it is this feeling that just takes over every ounce of your being. You could explode with happiness when they smile, explode with pride each time they accomplish a new milestone, implode with sadness anytime you think they're not 100% thriving...Thank God for supportive husbands and moms...I don't know how people who don't have that kind of support system do it. I needed reassurance so badly and nothing helped like having both Chris and my mom insist that Kayla was absolutely fine and that I had no responsibility in this. Some things you just need to hear from other people - comforting yourself just doesn't always suffice.

Long story short, it is now two weeks later and Kayla went back in today for her weigh in. For the past two weeks we've primarily been giving her a bottle, a mixture of breastmilk and formula. Technically, the doctor told me that I could continue to breastfeed and we would just decide, based on her weight this week, what needed to happen next, but there was such comfort in knowing exactly how much she was taking in (why boobs don't come with a gauge, I will never know...), that I've only been breastfeeding her once or twice a day and just pumping otherwise. We hadn't seen any more pink in her diapers (did I mention we discovered that it was crystallization of proteins due to dehydration? Um, hello...cranberries, doc? Maybe Chris is right about you...) and she has seemed so content, so I was hoping all would be well, but was still secretly worried that maybe she wasn't thriving. Needless to say, all my worries were for naught. The kid is a freakin' giant! In the past two weeks, Kayla has gone from 11lbs 6oz to 12lbs 13oz. Holy cow!! She's turning into a regular porker! Luckily for her, double chins are super cute at this age. The doctor literally looked at her chart, laughed and said "Well, clearly I'm not worried about her weight anymore...". I had to ask him if maybe we were overfeeding her now! (Yes, you can totally do that. In fact, I met an obese 3 month old the other night. No lie. You would not have BELIEVED the size of this kid!) He says no though. He says the amount we're giving her is just fine and not to worry, she was probably just making up for lost time. 12lbs 13oz...honestly...

And so, mommy can now breathe a long sigh of relief and take a break from worrying about baby until the next time something strange happens.

For now though, it is just time to sit back, relax, and enjoy the fact that my little 3 Month Old (Happy Birthday SnuzzleFace!) is now a "big girl".

Orange Seed!

It's been a busy couple of weeks in the Duck household. I think the last time I wrote was right before the 4th (aka The Day Erin Became Old). Since then, we have had visitors, we've been on trips, we've dealt with all kinds of new issues, we've found new loves...it's been quite the crazy 11 days.

The Fourth



Andrea and Darren were awesome enough to come up to visit for my bday. It was a last minute surprise and wound up making my bday weekend even more fun than I'd hoped for. Plus, it was the first time that Aunt Andrea had gotten to meet Snuzzler, so it was a special weekend for all parties.





Andrea kept apologizing for following me around the house all weekend and I had to laugh because I so remember doing that to Anna after she first had Allie. There is nothing more fascinating than watching a friend with their new baby, especially when you don't yet have one of your own. I remember following Anna in when she'd go to put the baby down for her nap, following her when they'd go into the bathroom for tub time, following when they'd go into the nursery for a diaper change even, because at that point, I simply couldn't fathom all the work that went into this whole motherhood thing. And actually, I have to say, that as a mom, I find it kind of fun to have someone trail me around while I do the seemingly mind-numbing tasks that constitute a typical day in the life. That sounds harsh. There are lots of non-mind-numbing moments too, but let's be honest...diapering, feeding, burping, diapering, feeding, burping...some of it ain't all glamorous. Or at least it's nice to know that someone else thinks that ooh-ing and ahh-ing over your baby for hours on end is as fun as you do. Sometimes I think I've gone crazy with how long I can spend just sitting making stupid faces and noises at this kid...it's fun to see someone else enjoy the same nonsense.

Anyhow, so Andrea and Darren were there through the weekend, which was fabulous. We got out for brunch in the city - Cookshop - a place I'd been dying to go. And what happened to be stationed right outside Cookshop?? A truck that, I kid you not, is titled "Waffles and Dinges". That's right, BELGIAN WAFFLES. And not the "Belgian" waffles that you typically get in the US. These are Belgian waffles as designed by an actual Belgian. Sure, they didn't have quite enough crunchy sugar bits, but hey...when you can smell Belgium from down the street, they must be doing something right, no? So, fabulous food in the morning and then Chris outdid himself with a fabulous cake in the evening. For those of you who don't know, my mom used to always make me an American/Fourth of July themed cake for my bday each year. (If you can't figure out why, erm...) Since we started dating, Chris has taken on that mantle and has become quite the Americana Cake expert.



Impressive, huh? All in all, a fabulous bday. Of course, while I was dressed pretty demurely, Kayla was quite the showoff on Mama's big day. She went through three costume changes. THREE! Sheesh. I had NOTHING to do with it of course...she's a little showoff all on her own.






Truly, the kid is a shopaholic. I can't imagine where she gets it from.

Alas, it is late and I am zonked, so I think that this will have to be a multi-part post. I know, booooooooo. Sorry, but it's either that or I ramble incoherently for another 5-6 paragraphs, growing less and less comprehensible and more and more bizarre. Okay, that kind of sounds like a good time, but nonetheless...break for now. Back in the morn.