There are some major differences between Colorado and Maryland. Colorado is dry, and Maryland is a sauna. When I look out my window in CO, I see a a green prairie. When I look out my window in MD, i see a whole lotta buildings. When I visit the grocery store back home, I never hear arguments. When I visit the grocery store here, I always hear arugments.
In the past week I've heard the following three statements while in or headed to the local grocer.
"You come to town, you wanna hang out, and you spend all my money..."
"You aint got no cheese. You didn't buy any cheese. GO GET THE CHEESE."
"You got a hold of my daughter-in-law because you saw a weakness, B****"
That last one was the best because the accusation came from a lady who was neither on the phone nor standing near any female dogs or anyone who looked capable of getting a hold of her daughter in law.
There's no way picking up some diet coke, baby food and tortilla chips will be this exciting when wee head back west in two weeks. TWO WEEKS?! It's too soon to leave. We really love it here. And while I'm looking forward to being in our spacious apartment and wide open spaces again, we will truly miss this place and the adventures we have every day. Now I need to go get the cheese cause I aint got no cheese.
I know right? How can Ivy be that old already? I'm just as shocked as you.
In the past month Ivy celebrated her first Fourth of July, took her first plane ride, and tasted her first french fry.
She decided that Ollie is hilarious, banana baby food is delicious, peas are grody, and baseball is too loud.
She rolls over like it's her job, spends most the day in her bumbo and is getting close to sitting on her own.
She finally has chubby thighs and cheeks that are no match against gravity
She puts everything in her mouth. The shower curtain, paper towels, my phone, my hair, Stephen's glasses, her stroller straps, books and the mail.
She loves watching the elevator floor number change and is fascinated by the exit sign in the hallway.
She glares at strangers unless they smile.
She bounces her feet if she likes a song, looks bored if she doesn't.
She has to be in just the right position before she'll fall asleep in her crib. It's usually a solid fifteen minutes of tossing and turning before she finds that perfect spot.
She'll fake being tired and then talk to herself while lying down. We all need alone time I guess.
Yesterday I had a few brutal working hours. Ivy sat patiently and played, then slept, then played some more. She occasionaly babbled, but never cried. When I finished the many tasks at hand, she seemed to recognize that I had a rough few hours, and turned on her baby charm. She cooed and giggled and reached for my face. It was just what I needed and for the millionth time I felt completely thrilled to have this tiny little person in my life.
Here are some things I enjoy in life.
2. Diet Coke
There are others, but it's late and lists are boring. Anyway, the point is, I'll continue writing about family and probably diet coke here, but all future television reviews will be found here: http://megontv.blogspot.com/.
So there's that.
Did anyone else notice how Jef with one F repeatedly said "I've never loved a girl this much"? Did anyone else find it odd that he had to specify Emily's gender? Just me? Ok. I have no idea what Jef said while presenting the ring to Emily. I went to the bathroom when it started, came back, and he was still talking. Grabbed a snack, came back and he was still talking. Traveled to Siberia, came back, and he was still talking. That last one might be an exaggeration, but it was seriously the. longest. proposal. Followed be the. most. hilarious. montage.
Oh, that montag. Peter Cetera's The Glory of Love from Karate Kid II served as the soundtrack for Emily and Jef's finest, out of focus moments (one skateboard trick, one creepy puppet show, and lots of kissing). Way to spend the big bucks on tunes, ABC.
Let's talk about Jef's hair. I wonder if he tells his hairdresser, "Give me nightly news anchor, minus the sides."
I would pay to know his secret to good volume. Especially on those humid islands. How do you do it, Jef?
Let's talk about Arie. I hope they paid that guy a ton of money because I can't imagine anything worse than sitting next to the person who dumped you and hearing why they like someone else better. On national television. Either the contracts these people sign are iron-clad, or Arie is really hoping to be the next Bachelor.
If I were a drinker, I think my favorite drinking game would be to take a shot every time Chris Harrison says his name. By the end of last night I would have been completely plastered. Good thing Bachelor Pad starts tonight so I don't have to go more than 24 hours without hearing Chris Harrison say, "I'm Chris Harrison."
A baseball game? Really? You honestly thought it would be a good idea to wake me from a nap, take me outside in 150 degree weather with 3,000 percent humidity, and surround me with smelly people screaming like banshees for three hours? Way to think that one through, guys.
Also, it was super classy of you to change my diaper on your lap and give me a hot dog wrapper to play with. And speaking of hot dogs, I know you ate two, mom. Oink much?
We flew to Utah with a baby.
I thought I knew what I was doing. I googled it, asked facebook, talked to a few mother friends, and gathered a whole bunch of tips for infant air travel. I met our fellow passengers' looks of fear and exasperation with a knowing smile. "She won't bother you," I thought. "I know what I'm doing."
As Ivy sipped her bottle and fell asleep during take-off, Stephen and I exchanged hi-5s.We were rock star parents. The tips were going to work. It was going to be the smoothest flight ever.
Three minutes later Ivy was wide awake.
We spent the next four hours trading off holding a fussy baby and doing everything in our power to keep her entertained. Ivy finally decided she'd had enough and commenced a deathcon 5 meltdown.
It was at that moment, trying to force a binky into a screaming mouth while apologizing to the guy across the aisle, that I realized once again that I really don't know what I'm doing and maybe the internet doesn't have all the answers. If google's tips for flying with a baby prove futile, I doubt my future searches for "How to make my teenage daughter think I'm cool while still keeping her properly disciplined" will yield any sort of real help.
Listen. I've been thinking, and I decided it might be time for us to go our separate ways.
We've had some good months, right? That time I pulled you back in a ponytail, that other time I pulled you back in a ponytail, that time I tried to wear you down and then pulled you back in a ponytail...I'll always cherish those memories. But it's time to move on. No, please don't cry. It's not you, it's me. Honestly. You need someone who will treat you right. Someone who knows how to work a curling iron. Someone who owns hair spray. I'm just not ready for the commitment that you need.
Jef with on F to Emily on The Bachelorette last night: "I can't wait to wake up next to those big brown eyes every morning."
Stephen my husband to me: "I can't wait for you to hit me until I turn off the alarm every morning."
Our problem may have started when we made the maintenance guy had to unlock our apartment late at night because SOMEONE misplaced the keys. It was me. I misplaced the keys.
When he showed up at 11:00, half of his hair was in braids and the other half had a comb stuck in it. We had obviously interrupted, and though he was as nice as can be expected of someone who is pulled away from doing their hair at bed time, I realize now that he made a note of us and decided to get his revenge. Cause here's what happened a few days later:
This appeared on our bathroom ceiling.
We put in a maintenance request. Six hours later the maintenance guy, now with a complete head of braids, got to work. An hour later he said, "I'll be back soon." Curious, I walked into the bathroom and found this.
Outside our front door I heard snippets of an argument. "I don't know how to fix it," someone said.
Another two hours later, Mr. Maintenance returned with a few pieces of cardboard and some packing tape. After "patching up" the enormous, gaping hole above the shower, he informed us that there was quite a bit more work to be done and he'd be in touch.
It's been a week.
The tape isn't holding up so well. And, as it turns out, cardboard isn't a water resistant material.
I'll be surprised of we see this repaired before the end of the summer.
But potential health and safety hazards aside, this fun new bathroom decor is a welcome addition to the homey motif of our apartment alongside the diaper boxes we use for nightstands, the air mattress and the paper plates.