She Likes Purple

Sixth Anniversary

(The iron and candy anniversary! Or, as I'm calling it, a nice excuse to eat a lot of Almond Joys.)

You know what they didn't tell me at my bridal shower? That some time over the course of our marriage, Mike would upset me or that on more than one occassion we'd fight our way past midnight and that, also, I wouldn't fit into my wedding dress beyond my wedding night. 

I understand why we played shower games and toasted champagne and ate cupcakes (of course my shower had cupcakes) instead of talking about the nitty-gritty. Those parties are about the fun stuff, the cupcakes and the champagne.

Marriage isn't a wedding or a shower or a party or a bunch of cupcakes, though. It's different and harder and better and more important. 

What they also didn't tell me at my shower, though, is that Mike would turn out to be the kind of man who apologizes with real grace after those midnight fights, who shows up to talk about the tough stuff even though talking about the tough stuff is like his 1576th favorite thing, if he's rating his favorite things. He turned out to be the guy who hears me when I really need to be heard. He is the man who has never said no when I tell him I need a big hug or an afternoon to myself or for him to sacrifice something he wants for something I need. 

Life is weird, isn't it? Six years ago, I was in a lovely wedding dress and last night I was in yoga pants, and both days, both places, were beautiful. 

You know what my favorite thing is, if I am rating my own favorite things? Mike's laugh. When he laughs, I swear the world brightens. I would rate it top of the list because he gave that same laugh to Kyle, so Kyle's laugh is my second favorite thing. I'd say it feels extra awesome if I'm the one who has made either of them laugh, but I'll take the sound however I can get it. Mike's laugh, man. It's the best. That's not a catchphrase. It really is the best.

That's one thing I could have told you at my bridal shower. That Mike's laugh starts in his eyes, and it's the best sound I've ever heard. 

There have been fights, oh have there been (and there will be more) and Mike will upset me many more times in our lifetime and who the hell knows if I'll ever fit in that wedding dress again, but every single day I've gotten to hear Mike laugh has been a good day. I've never stopped loving that sound, that guy, nine years after meeting him, six years after marrying him. He didn't give Kyle his hair, but he gave him that laugh. It starts in both their eyes.

I loved Mike so much on our wedding day, I couldn't even stand it.

I love him even more today. 

(One of my favorite wedding pictures, of us listening to my SIL give a beautiful toast.)

Six years! Pass the candy.

Washington, DC: Part Two

After spending a couple days in Dupont Circle, exploring the city, oohing and ahhing at every building along the mall, figuring out the Metro, and drinking wine in our hotel bed at 8pm, it was time to head out of town.

Mike likes exploring cities, but I knew he'd love the drive through Virginia (26th state for me!), to Shenandoah National Park where we spent the night in a hilltop B&B in Luray. I surprised him with this night away, and it was such a wonderful way to break up our trip.

Before we headed out of town, though, we stopped for lunch at Ben's Chili Bowl. 

What a place! You have to go here when/if you visit DC, for the history, the pictures lining the walls, the wait staff, the food. I had a veggie hot dog (just okay, but that's to be expected) but the veggie chili was good and Mike said the non-veggie hot dog and chili was some of the best he's ever had. 

Oh, and we also stopped at the Air & Space Museum at Dulles on our way out of town. It was here I missed Kyle so terribly because I knew he would have loved the hell out of that place. It was very cool and any person who has ever loved an airplane should stop here. (It's free!) 

Then we officially hit the road. 

Some of my favorite memories with Mike are memories in a car, on a long stretch of road between a great place we're leaving and a great place we're heading to. We talk, sometimes we don't, we sing to the radio (listening to Mike jam to Taylor Swift AND the Spice Girls was a highlight of this particular trip), we swap favorite Kyle stories, we stop for stupid pictures along the way. Oh, Mike, thanks for always taking the wheel when we hit the road. For letting me put my feet on the dash and read magazines and take pictures out the passenger window while forgetting to tell you where to turn next, so we always have to turn around once during a trip. You gently roll your eyes at me, and I fall in love with you all over again. You are a wonderful travel partner, and I really don't thank you enough for that. 

Once in Luray, we stayed at Once Upon a Mountain, a three-bedroom hilltop B&B and it was such a charming place. I picked this place through Google, Yelp!, and Trip Advisor alone. It didn't disappoint (except for one teeny thing I'll mention below).

I picked the best-rated room (the Queen's Suite), and it turned out the innkeeper was out of town during our visit and the other rooms were vacant, so we basically had the entire place to ourselves. That was a treat. 

The non-treat and one downside of the place was that stinkbugs are apparently very popular in Virginia, and especially in the more naturey parts of Virginia, and extra especially inside our B&B. This didn't bother Mike at all. He scooped them up as he found them and tossed them outside. THIS BOTHERED ME QUITE A LOT. At one point, I thought I saw one flying toward my head and when I told Mike this (LOUDLY), he said, "Oh no, they don't fly. Must have been a moth." Then he went to get a drink refill, and I Googled the hell out of "stink bugs fly" and when he got back 15 seconds later I said (AGAIN, LOUDLY) "They do TOO fly! Google says they can totally fly!"

"Yeah, I know they can, I just didn't think you'd Google it that quickly."

He both lies about bugs and underestimates my Google skills. 

We still had a great night, and I'd stay there again (stink bugs and all) but perhaps armed with some very strong bug spray of some kind next time around.

The next day, before heading out of town to stay with Caitlin (!!!!) for the night, we stopped at the Luray Caverns (very cool, although very similar to some caverns we've been to a few times before near San Antonio) and drove about 30 miles of Skyline Drive. 

(There was still snow on the ground!)

Virginia, you weren't too shabby at all. Other than your stink bugs but we have cockroaches, so I'm not talking too badly about you behind your back or anything.  

Next up: A few days/nights in Alexandria, a day trip to Annapolis, more monuments, and a lot of champagne with one of my favorite bloggers.

Washington, DC: Part One

Our DC trip snuck up on us (as you might remember, we quickly went from a June Alaskan trip to an April DC one), and as we rode the shuttle from the parking lot to the terminal at DFW, I snapped a picture of us that kind of hiliariously summed up our preparedness for the trip.

We look so confused! And tired! Are we...going on vacation or are we going into a stressful work meeting? No one can be sure.

Anyway, the flight itself was thankfully uneventful. We got into DC, grabbed a Super Shuttle, and finally arrived at our hotel. (Quick travel math: Dulles arrival + Super Shuttle ride + Dupont Circle hotel = A MILLION TOTAL TRAVELING HOURS.) We booked our hotel room at the Topaz Hotel through Kristin, a blog friend who does travel advising, and when I mentioned to a few people that it was a Kimpton property, they told me you could request a goldfish be delivered to your room. 

A goldfish! 

I was quite excited by this because I think what our travels have really been missing is pets. I did have a brief panicked moment right before I got to the counter to request the goldfish because what if my friends had steered me wrong? What if they DIDN'T offer free goldfish and I requested one and things got awkward?

Thankfully, there was no issue and Spike (what I named him) was delivered to our room without incident.

(From top to bottom, left to right: Mike and me at Good Stuff Eatery, us in front of the beautiful Capitol building; Spike, our fish!; the Library of Congress)

After we welcomed Spike to our room, we headed out for another Spike. Spike's Good Stuff Eatery! The burgers and fries were just so-so, sadly, but the milkshakes. Guys, THE MILKSHAKES ARE GAME CHANGERS. 

Mike and I split a mini-toasted marshmallow shake and then went back two more times on our trip to enjoy our own, non-mini-sized ones.  

(MINI IS TOO SMALL)

After dinner, we walked around the mall, catching our breath at every turn. To see this place come alive in front of us, a place we see in movies and in pictures and in textbooks was just incredible, I nearly cried a dozen times. Maybe it was the history major in me, or the eternal sap, or both, but what a breathtaking part of our country. I felt really lucky to be there.

We stopped in the Air & Space Museum before it closed that day and then we headed back to our hotel room. 

We made it back that night to enjoy the complimentary happy hour in our hotel lobby (ANOTHER reason to only stay at Kimpton properties from now until forever), and I requested one glass of wine to enjoy in the lobby and one to enjoy in our hotel room. Yes, I requested two glasses in one hour's time, and I was a little hesitant to do this. Was that...overstepping the complimentary happy hour boundaries? When I went up to ask for the second glass, I said, "I'd like to take this glass to our room. Is that...can I...IS THAT ALLOWED? SHOULD I PAY FOR THE SECOND GLASS." The happy hour bartender got a glimpse into why I rarely drank in high school. I am very much a rule follower and I have a deep fear of authority. I didn't want to break any rules! HAPPY HOUR RULES! LIKE THERE IS SUCH A THING!

Anyway, I think I took a long bath and then crawled into bed at 7:30pm that night, where we watched a movie, ordered room service dessert, and remembered why vacations are so lovely. 

(When I told Mike that a book, a bed, and a glass of wine is basically my favorite scenario, he said, "You know, you could read and drink wine in bed at home ANY TIME YOU WANT." I hate when he makes so much sense. STOP MAKING SENSE, MIKE.)

The next day, we slept in and met Caitlin (!!) for lunch at Sweetgreen, which was absolutely delicious. Texas, go ahead and open a handful of these. We also got a tour of Caitlin's office. She works at National Geographic and Mike suggested I apply. If he thought my commute NOW makes me bitchy!

(Us, at National Geographic! This was just the hallway. We're very bad at choosing photo backgrounds.) 

After lunch, we headed back to the mall and walked around a lot. We had dinner reservations, so I told Mike that the one thing I absolutely had to do before dinner was see the White House. 

Guys.

We saw the freaking White House, and I had to AGAIN stop myself from tearing up. The White House! (I'm like the most cliche tourist there ever was.) President Obama was sadly out of town this day, which explains why he didn't come out and invite us in for dinner. 

Two little boys were standing beside us as we snapped pictures, and one said to the other, "What do you think is INSIDE there?" The other, "Probably a really big tennis court." 

From there we walked to dinner at Zaytinya with Mike's uncle, aunt, and cousin. (Seems like we had JUST eaten lunch, I know, but I swear there were MILES of walking between lunch and dinner. So many miles. We were so tired and hungry by the time dinner rolled around.)

Dinner was fantastic, and I recommend this place to anyone who is looking for a meal in DC. Favorite dishes: hummus, the crispy Brussel sprouts (OMG, these were amazing), and the crab cakes.

When we got back to the hotel, we headed next door for a drink at the Tabard Inn where we saw Janet Napolitano, although we only KNEW it was her after asking the waitress who the Secret Service dudes were with. Still, DC, you are so charming with all your politicians, just having drinks in the same bar as us. In Dallas, I've seen David Archuleta and Jake Pavelka. NOT THE SAME.

(At Tabard Inn, cocktails and flash photography)

The next day we headed out of town, and Mike had no idea where we were going. I TOTALLY surprised him. That's part two, my friends. Check back sometime in August for that recap.

A Day in the Life

(inspired by Janssen)

I nearly titled this "A Typical Day" but I realized there's just no typical day for us. Our lives are all over the place, and that's probably true for a lot of you, too. We try to create routines but damn if life doesn't make that hard. (Shaking my fist at life...)

Anyway, I wanted to record our steps for an entire day not because my life is all that interesting (oh, it's so not as you'll find out at about 10am) but because this is the kind of thing I'm going to enjoy looking back on one day.

7am: Kyle wakes me up, and I give him my phone to play with so I can steal ten more minutes of sleep.

7:10am: Okay, I'm up! I get Kyle breakfast and he eats while I take a shower. I remind him that when I get out of the shower he'll need to get dressed for school. 

7:20am: I'm out of the shower and Kyle goes (slowly, oh so slowly) to his room to get dressed. 

7:30am: I'm dressed and getting ready and Kyle comes into the bathroom so I can tie his shoes.  

7:35am: Kyle gives Mike a kiss and hug goodbye while I pack his bag for soccer practice after school. Kyle reminds me not to forget his soccer ball. 

7:40am: I grab a granola bar to eat in the car.

7:42am: I kiss Mike good-bye and tell him to have a good day. He hugs me for just an extra second. Funny how much I need that extra second.

7:45am: We're out of the house! Not exactly on time but good enough. On the way to the car Kyle sees a bunny that lives in our backyard and he gets so excited. I tell him that means we'll have good luck all day and then we wave good-bye to the bunny. Kyle says, "Have a great day, bunny! And you too Molly!" We drive off, waving.

(Bunny spotting!)

8:05am: We pull up to Kyle's school, which is usually just five minutes door to door. It took so much longer because, well, traffic. 

8:07am: Forgot the tuition check, so I run out to the car to get it. We're using the loose definition of run here, of course.

8:10am: Back in the car and on my way to work. 

8:23am: Remember my granola bar! It's the little things.

8:27am: Hit some unexpected traffic. (You know those six-word memoirs that were all the rage for a while? One of mine would absolutely be: Well shit, got stuck in traffic.)

(Unexpected traffic face with bonus Kendra Scott earrings!)

9:07am: Finally get to work, a few minutes late. 

9:15am: I make a cup of coffee (uh, of course) and chat quickly with my favorite co-worker.

9:20-10:30am: So many emails. I worked late the night before, getting my inbox under control, but I still come in to about 50 new ones I need to respond to or forward along. Also, my to-do list. It's very long.

10:30am-12:00pm: More work. It's a rare morning that I don't have a meeting or call, so it feels downright luxurious to put my head down and charge through my to-do list, uninterrupted. You are now oozing with jealousy of my rocking life, I'm sure. 

12pm: Leave for lunch. I have a work meeting with a local author, to go over her marketing plan.

12:13pm: Arrive for lunch, begin perusing the menu. Oh, menu perusing is one of my favorite things. 

(Settled on a Caesar salad with a side of salmon.)

1:45pm: Head back to the office. 

2pm: Call with a company we hope to advertise with. 

2:12pm: Call is done! Oh, under-15-minute calls are my very favorite.

3pm: Afternoon coffee and note writing. I know, afternoon coffee should be a very bad decision but my body is miraculous in that caffeine works on it (as it should) but it doesn't stop me from falling asleep whenever I'd like to.

4:40pm: Head out early, so I can make it to Kyle's school in time for soccer practice. 

5:37pm: Pull into Kyle's school. Chat with his teacher for a few minutes and head to the school bathroom to change Kyle into his soccer clothes. Oh, look! I forgot one of his cleats, so he has to wear his regular shoes. He is not thrilled with me for this. (Kyle is very rigid about few things but what he wears is one of them.) We have a brief heart-to-heart about how mommy might disappoint him on a much grander scale in the future, and I'm super sorry about the shoes but can we shake it off and move on? Eventually, we do. 

6:03pm: Pull into the soccer field parking lot. Again, the soccer field is five minutes, tops, from Kyle's school. Traffic can suck it. 

(He's briefly forgiven me for the cleat incident.)

6:06pm: Kyle realizes I ALSO forgot his water bottle. (There IS a water fountain directly next to the soccer fields, I'd like it noted.) He yells across the field to me, sititng on the bleachers, "MOMMY, YOU FORGOT EVERYTHING." I briefly think about pretending he doesn't belong to me (but all the parents know me) and then I briefly think about yelling back, "OH REALLY? DID I FORGET YOUR SOCCER BALL? NO I DID NOT." but that doesn't seem super mature (although it does seem super accurate). "Sorry, buds!" I yell back. I say a silent "you're welcome" to all the other parents for owning the "lamest soccer parent" award of the night. 

7pm: Soccer practice is over. I call Mike to give him a heads up we're on our way home. 

(Post-practice silliness and, uh, we're not driving here, I feel the need to clarify. I mean, of course we're not! He's not even buckled in! But "feeling the need to clarify" is one of the gifts the internet has given me.)

7:17pm: We pull into the driveway. Oh, it feels good to be home. 

7:19pm: Mike bought me flowers, and they're waiting for me on the table. This feels a little stagey for this post but I swear he is not a regular flower-buyer. He bought me some for Valentine's and then, before that, uh maybe our fourth anniversary in 2011. This night is a coincidence! Swear it!

7:20pm: I'm in yoga pants and QUICKLY. That's how I roll. 

7:30pm: Mike makes Kyle a PB&J sandwich for dinner (I wish I had whipped up some delicious meal for dinner on this day, to impress all of you, but sandwiches is ALSO how I roll.) Mike then makes me a fried egg sandwich. 

(With Doritos on the side. NUTRITIOUS.) 

8pm: Kyle brushes his teeth, washes his face, etc. while I ... tweet, I'm sure.

8:20pm: Story time. I think I read a Berenstain Bear book this night.

8:25pm: Mike came in and we had family story time for a couple minutes. Mike made funny noises, Kyle cracked up, I tried to keep everyone focused on the plot of the story (unsuccessfully). Hugs! Kisses! 

8:36pm: Big plans to go work-out.

8:37pm: In bed.

9pm: Asleep.

I'd like to do this once a month (I see a book-type-thing created with my once-a-month "Day in the Life" posts) but, in reality, I bet you get another one of these posts in 2014. No sooner.

The Best

Mike and I have finally begun putting together a living room we can be proud of. It's only taken four years to start this project and it'll only take (I'm sure) another four, but hell I'm calling any progress a victory at this point. 

In January, we painted the walls a nice steel gray, and we've bought frames for the many pictures we want to hang on them. Over our couch, we've decided to hang travel photos, just scenery shots, and it was such a fun ride through vacation memory lane, choosing which pictures we should display. We chose one from Puerto Rico, Chicago, St. John, Boston and in the middle we hope to find just the right photo from College Station. That might not be your vacation city of choice but all this travel, all this everything, began with that tiny Texas town.

Of course we chose a photo from the family roadtrip we took in the summer of 2011 (here, here). You might remember that trip if you've been reading my blog since then. We traveled through Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, and a tiny bit of Arizona for a family wedding. We took Kyle, then two and a half, and Molly, then (and now) a giant but lovable pain in the ass.

As I searched through the hundreds of photos from the trip for just the right one to frame, I remembered how we almost didn't go. My car broke down (to the tune of many dollars) the week before the trip and the day before the trip Kyle got a Mystery Fever. No money and a feverish child. Yeah, that screams fun family vacation.

But, against all rational thought, we took the trip. We packed the car, we booked a couple cheap hotel rooms, we filled a cooler with snacks and filled my laptop with Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episodes, and we hoped for the best. 

We ate burgers in Amarillo, drank margaritas in Santa Fe. We hiked in Arches National Park while watching a storm roll through one of the most beautiful places I had ever seen before or have ever seen since. Kyle threw up in the backseat on a particularly curvy Colorado mountain road but then we saw a deer inches from our car a few moments later, and he quickly cheered up. We visited the Four Corners. We graffitied the cars at Cadillac Ranch. We introduced Kyle to family he'd never met and we sat around the hotel pool with them, catching up and slapping mosquitoes against our arms. Mike's parents treated us to a once-in-a-lifetime helicopter ride above Gateway Canyons, where we stayed for the wedding. We off-roaded to visit Shiprock.

We also had this one giant fight, on a New Mexico highway late one night as Kyle slept in the backseat. It was ridiculous, as many giant fights tend to be, and Mike and I stewed quietly after it ended. I went to sleep angry. He slept with his back to me. We apologized in the morning, after coffee, a good night's sleep, and a strong dose of perspective, and we shared a family hug in our cheap hotel room before eating the worst continental breakfast we'd ever had.

There was also this beautiful moment on a straight stretch of road, driving out of Utah as the sun was setting one night. Kyle had just fallen asleep and Mike and I were talking about anything, nothing, I don't even remember. Maybe our trip, maybe stopping for gas, maybe Kyle. I think my favorite thing about my relationship with Mike, or maybe just my relationship with anyone I've loved so long, is the ease of conversation. You realize how rare that is, as you get older, when there is no anxiety or self-consciousness or even awareness of what you're saying. You just talk. It's like breathing, talking to Mike, and I realized on that Utah road that I was just so damn grateful we decided to say yes to a trip we nearly said no to. 

It was one of the most incredible trips, no weeks, of my entire life. It was magical, it was beautiful, it was exhausting, it was fun, even the fight, even the carsickness, even the bad felt good on that trip. 

We almost said no, but then we said yes. We hoped for the best, and that's exactly what we got. 

No other reason to write this than I just wanted to remember all of that today. 

(I plan to share the living room makeover when the room is done, of course. So see you for that in 2017.)

Nine

Last week, Mike and I celebrated being together nine years. (eight, seven, six, five, four) (He really thought I'd stop talking about our dating anniversary once he married me but sometimes even Mike underestimates my dedication to nostalgia.)

If you had told us nine years ago, on that first night when we were--fine--drunk and awkward and nervous, that we'd be celebrating nine years together with a trip to the pediatrician's office and then an imaging office for chest x-rays for our nearly four-year-old son (spoiler: Kyle is doing better, but I officially hate croup as much as I used to), I would have probably thought you were very specifically lying and then I would go ahead and ask you what we decided to name him, that boy, and also what color his hair turned out to be. 

These kids, they had no idea they'd make their own kid, their own life, their own fun together.

We had no idea nine years ago...

Okay, maybe a little bit of an idea. We weren't nervous for nothing.

Nine years! I still like him a lot.

Bring it, Holidays.

Lights up BEFORE Thanksgiving, like holiday bosses. (I would have put our lights up in July and by I, I mean Mike, but he wouldn't. Scrooge.)

I look at this photo and realize that while Texas may not technically be part of the South, it's a very Southern thing to put up Christmas lights in t-shirts. Promise it was 70ish when this photo was snapped! We're not forcing manual labor without the proper wardrobe!

I also have our Christmas menu all figured out. (Post to come.)

I'm excited about the holidays this year, if you couldn't tell. Partly because my sister and her family are coming to celebrate with us, for the first time ever (as a family), partly because my Christmas menu includes mimosas and carbs, and partly because I hope my mom buys me SOMETHING off this list. She's usually the one I can count on to (not really) surprise me with one thing I (really) want.

Good things, basically. The next month is full of good things.

(Continually updating our holiday plan here! Two cross-outs already. HOLIDAY BOSSES.)

Small Home Improvement Project. (Mike Will Not Appreciate My Use of Small.)

We have a great house, I like to think, and there's little we need to do to it. There are about nine million things we want to do, though. This can be overwhelming. How do you make the time to do all the things on your "want to do" list when your "must do in order to exist" list is already pretty damn long? I don't know the answer to that, although I think it involves a lot of coffee. Even more than I already drink.

Anyway, we've been in the house over three years and now have a completed project to share! One that isn't in the garage, that is. 

Mike tackled this by himself, start to finish, although I think Molly and Kyle might have tossed in some support here and there. You know who did not toss in (physical) support? His wife. She was inside. Where the couch is.

Oh, wait. That's not true! I did help decide the brick pattern. 

It really does look incredible and it was a whopping $3. We bought something like a dozen bags of sand and 100 bricks but Mike used a gift card for most of the cost. I recommend using gift cards and husbands for all your home improvement projects. You're welcome for that advice.

Great job, babe! Also, the pattern is really spectacular. Did you have professional assistance with that?

Halloween 2012

A few months ago, I asked Kyle what he wanted to be for Halloween. I wasn't sure how he would answer this question because he's three. I can ask him what he wants for dinner, and that question somehow launches him into a re-telling of the funniest scene in Ratatouille. I love this age, I really do, but I can't begin to understand its thought process.

Anyway, he said he wanted to be a firefighter. Or maybe Spider-man. (A movie/cartoon he's never seen. THANKS, KYLE'S PEERS.) I was really pulling for firefighter, of course. It felt age-appropriate and adorable. It also felt free, as Kyle's older cousin had a costume I was pretty sure he could borrow. Free is so much cooler than a superhero in tights.

Everything was solidified when he got to try on the costume this summer, at his cousin's house. Yep, he was sold. (PHEW.) We had his costume squared away months in advance, and I kind of felt like a parenting rockstar. Except when I remembered the time I completely forgot about Halloween.

We had to bail on our plans for trick-or-treating this year, which totally sucked, but we spent the night in my in-laws' neighborhood, which was a nice consolation prize. Kyle was adorable and by the end, he made us wait for him at the curb of each house. "I can do it myself and you're not wearing a costume anyway," he told me. Ooookay.

He was wearing boots with his costume and I think they were a little uncomfortable because he eventually told us he was getting tired and was about done. We had just a couple more houses so we talked him into finishing those before we made it back to my in-laws. When he went up to the next house and the man asked him a question (that I couldn't hear), he said very loudly, "Trick-or-treat, my legs are tired." KIDS, THIS IS WHY YOU HAVE KIDS.

Also, for photo opps like this:

On the way home, Mike got the genius idea to swing by the fire station. They had to be passing out candy, he said, and it was easily the best decision we've made in a month. I say "we" even though it was Mike's idea because taking credit for his brilliance is a perk of marriage. It balances the impossible name he gave me.

Kyle was shy at first but warmed up quickly, as is Kyle's nature. He kept saying, "I'm a firefighter TOO!" The fireman on duty was incredible and I think we'll bake him cookies some time soon, to thank him for his awesomeness. There are just not enough kind words that would do him justice. He was warm, and he humored the hell out of my three year old (and us), all with a grin, and then he gave Kyle DOZENS of pieces of candy on top of everything else. Seriously, he's my hero of the week, that man.

Halloween was a win all around. Kyle said before bed, "I think we should go trick-or-treating tomorrow."

Bonus pumpkin patch picture, from this past weekend:

I hope you had a fun Halloween, too. Mostly, I hope you got to steal the good stuff after the kids went to sleep. Until next year...

Lost and Finding

Mike wasn't looking for me, even in those early days when he had me. I've told this story before, this sort-of unromantic story of how the guy I was falling for was spending an awful lot of time swearing up and down he wasn't looking for a commitment, a relationship, me.

It seemed to happen gradually at the time, that our plans began to include each other, although in hindsight it happened very fast. He Wasn't Looking For A Relationship in January and loved me by May and that's not very long at all, but waiting makes time move much slower, doesn't it?

He fell in love with me despite himself, I think. He said he went home from work one day, swore he'd wait as long as he possibly could to call me--promising he could make it until the next day--and he lasted a half hour. I genuinely believe he didn't want a relationship, that he didn't think I was that relationship even if he had been looking for one, but life is funny, isn't it? I like to think I was just that utterly charming and adorable to make him break all his promises to himself. It was probably just bigger than us, from the very beginning, bigger than his protests, bigger than my craziness.

I tell you all of this (again, for the hundredth time?) to emphasize the magnitude of the moments from that first year when Mike would show his commitment to me. Like the time he sat me on his couch, instructing me to close my eyes while he placed a diamond necklace in my hands, a beautiful shiny investment in us. I thought I was the luckiest girl in all the world that night. I loved that necklace so much.

I think I've lost it. I can't find it. It was in our bathroom, with the rest of my jewelry, and now it's gone. I cried when I realized it was missing and I cried when I told Mike and I'm crying again now.

Why am I so brokenhearted? It's just a necklace! It's replacable! But, oooooh, it's not. Of course it's not. It was his first big gift to me, this guy who wasn't looking for a commitment with this girl he was buying diamonds for. 

Damn, I hope it turns up.

***

I've been feeling a little like that necklace these days--lost, out of place. I'm struggling with my diet, my work-outs, my dirty house, my sad yearly to-do list. I still feel impossibly busy each and every day, but I also feel impossibly behind and out of focus, too. I think it's likely the time of year combined with an insane workload combined with a really busy social calendar. It makes me want to crawl under my blankets with any free time I have. It does not make me want to do laundry, but that's no surprise to anyone who has ever met me.

Anyway, I've decided to try and shake myself out of this lostness by setting daily goals for myself, simple things I can write down at the beginning of each day to stay focused. I tweeted my list today, and I might do that more often.

It's so easy to forget what we want to accomplish each day as we tick through the actual hours, so I hope this simple idea has a positive effect.

I also really hope I find that necklace.

All About Cranberry Juice

I haven't written Kyle's birth story yet and it's safe to say that's probably never going to happen. I mean, the kid is going to be four (omg) in February, so I think that particular blogging ship has sailed. This is actually okay with me, though. It was such a perfect day, it's kind of nice to keep it all to myself. (I often say the nine months before and the two months after were hell but those two days in the hospital were pure perfection.)

One tiny little tidbit of a thing that came back to me tonight, though--as I was looking in the fridge in our garage and noticed a random  bottle of cranberry juice that someone left at our house--was how we had free reign over the juice fridge in our hospital. I would send Mike down the hall once an hour, it felt like, on strict orders to fetch a giant cup of ice pellets and a couple containers of cranberry juice, so I could pour the latter over the former and chug it down. It had been years since I'd had cranberry juice, but it was just delicious after nine months of being sick, sick, sick. I don't know if there will ever be a good way to describe the awfulness that is puking at nine months pregnant from nausea AND heartburn. COMBINED!

That cranberry juice somehow made me feel normal after so many months of feeling the absolute opposite of normal. Feeling horrible, feeling awful, feeling humbled by how many public places I threw up in. I could enjoy eating and drinking things again! GIVE ME ALL THE CRANBERRY JUICE. (Also all the cupcakes and donuts. ALL OF THEM.)

It was so long ago, being pregnant, having Kyle, taking a newborn home, utterly confused and shocked and scared as to what to do with him. I know how to parent Kyle of October 2012 just fiiiiine. I question myself at times, sure, but most of the time I really don't. I'm his mom. A mom of an almost-four-year-old. We got this, you know.

Then I open our garage fridge and see a half-gallon of cranberry juice and catapult back to being in that hospital bed, holding my teeny-tiny boy, marveling at him--he was so much more beautiful than even my best pregnant moment could have dreamed him to be--and side-eyeing Mike into refilling the cranberry juice cup on my bedside table. Get me more delicious juice, babe, while I hold our delicious boy.

That's the thing about memory, you see, it's so far gone until it knocks us over flat with its presence. It's nothing until it's everything. It's a four-year-old boy kicking a soccer ball the wrong way down the field until it's a newborn with steel-blue eyes who looks at you like he's always known you (because he always has). Memory is dormant until it's all-encompassing. It's a planned blog post about (more) shoes until it's a blog post about how my tiny boy is now a soccer-ball chasing big boy.

He was the left and now he's the right.

It all came back in a cranberry-juice-soaked moment.

On the Road

In college, Mike had a motorcycle and we'd ride it often. To dinner, around town on Sunday afternoons, and occasionally we'd take it out for the weekend and ride it around Texas, sometimes stopping to camp for the night. While I often complain about this state and all it's far-right politics and absolutely horrible weather, I still love it in very big ways and one cause of that love is seeing it from the back of a bike. It's something else, this big, sprawling state of ours. I loved those rides so much.

Mike still rides, although almost exclusively on the track these days. He races in an amateur circuit around Oklahoma and Texas--which is much safer than you're thinking, closed and controlled environment--and those Sunday afternoons of riding around our college town are behind us. They have to be, for the most part. We've grown up, we have a son, we can't afford multiple bikes, or an extra vehicle on our insurance plan. Mike also felt like while he was becoming a more and more responsible rider, the drivers around him were becoming less and less so. Texting, talking on the phone, etc. All things motorcyclists don't do. All things that can obviously still affect them.

All that said, it had been five years since I was on a bike and I thought it was time for me to hop back on, for a low-key, keep-to-the-back-roads ride with Mike, for a just-us birthday celebration. We borrowed his mom's road bike--yep, both his parents ride--stayed close to home and avoided all freeways and roads where the speed limit was over 55.

It was kind of like riding a bike (ha). It all came back to me. I remembered how to lean into the turns, hold onto Mike in a natural way, and I started waving at other bikers just a few minutes into the ride.

One thing I had forgotten was the smell of the road. It's a little indescribable, but it's something of a mix of fresh air, engine fumes, dirt, and smoke. It hit me in an instant, that smell I used to smell so often. It sticks to your clothes and I remember when Mike used to walk into the house in college, how the smell would greet me before he would. "Where'd you ride to?" I used to ask before I even looked up.

We left without any plans for the night, so we felt lucky to stumble upon some great lakeside cabins with just one available room left. We ate dinner at the resort's marina restaurant and it was delicious--a lot of veggie options, even!--and then we curled up in bed and watched our football team try their best to give us heart attacks. (We won but just barely and after being up 27 points earlier in the game!)

We stopped for breakfast on the way back, before picking up Kyle and returning to the dishes and bills and errands. We weren't gone long, we weren't gone far, but it felt like traveling back in time a little bit, being young again, falling in love with Texas again. Falling in love with Mike again. I am always reminded when I spend any time alone with him just how much I still like him. He's a likable guy, I think, but I always am re-surprised by just how much I enjoy him, how he fits me, how it's still so fun to make him laugh.

It was a really lovely night away.

It was good to smell the road again.

(Poorly) Teaching Twitter

Mike called me into the bedroom the other night while he was watching The Voice. They stream tweets on the bottom of the screen while the show airs, from the judges, host, etc.

Mike: Where are those notes coming from?

Me: Those are tweets.

Mike: Like, from Twitter?

Me: Yes.

Mike: Okay. Well, what are all those pound signs? What do they mean?

Me: They're hashtags.

Mike: What?

Me: We've talked about hashtags before! You click on them and can see all the people talking about that topic or you can even mute a hashtag so you never have to see those tweets in your timeline and...

Mike: WAIT, so does Twitter decide when to assign the pound sign? Like when it's a popular topic?

Me: You aren't getting this at all.

Mike: Why does that tweet have so many pound signs? I mean, I can't even make sense of that!

Me: THEY'RE HASHTAGS.

Mike: What?

Me: This isn't a conversation I'm particularly enjoying.

Mike: What do the @ symbols mean?

Me: I'm gonna go.

The First Reason Why This is My Favorite Month of the Year

When we were on our family vacation in California last month, we were out all day one day and everyone was exhausted by the time we got back to the hotel. Kyle was so exhausted, in fact, he didn't bat an eye when the car stopped. Mike got him out of his carseat and carried him inside.

As I gathered up beach towels and bags and purses and rogue little boy flip-flops, I watched my husband carry my sleeping son inside. My heart, it caught in my throat.

I wanted to find my camera. I wanted Mike to walk slower. Would pausing time forever be too much to ask?

All I kept saying in my head, over and over, was, Wow, I just really fucking love those two. (The voice inside my head has the same foul vocabulary as I do. I hope you'll forgive it/me.)

One of those two (the older one) has a birthday today--a big birthday at that (35!)--and where I sometimes feel like words are on my side, I never feel like that when it comes to Mike. He's just better and righter and more than all the words.

Still, it's his birthday. It's his day. He deserves a few words.

Happy birthday, Mike.

I just really fucking love you.

Sweet California

The first mistake I made when it came to our recent trip to Southern California--a trip to spend time with friends and to take Kyle to Disneyland--was to tell Kyle we were taking him to Disneyland. I have absolutely no idea WHY I did this except sometimes I make poor choices.

This was made all the worse by the fact that we arrived on Saturday morning and our day at Disneyland was Tuesday. Kyle absolutely broke the record for the number of times a three year old has asked, "Are we going to Disneyland now?" in a three-day time-span. Thankfully we had the beach, a beach house with a pool, friends and their adorable kids, pizza, ice cream, and a bunch of other consolation prizes. Still, learn from my mistake, friends! Surprise your kids with Disneyland news the morning of. Or as you are walking through the turnstile into the park. That's an even better idea.

Anyway, so California! We got to vacation there! It certainly redefines sunny, doesn't it? It's sunny the way sunny was intended to be. Not sunny that makes you want to stab things (that would be sunny in Texas) but sunny with an ocean breeze, sunny with just a slight chill at night, sunny without any stupid mosquitoes, sunny with a view. Mike has never had much interest in California, in general. Until he met me, he had no interest in ever visiting, but I slowly changed his mind (so much so that we got married at Lake Tahoe, totally his idea) and now I think he's fully in love. A few days with 80-degree temps and beachy views, and he started saying, "Yeah, we should find a way to get rich and buy a vacation home here." (I'll get right on that! My plan: either lottery rigging or straight-up bank robbing.)

California was good, very good, and my only complaint is that California isn't where I am right this moment.

Let's get to the pictures, shall we?

He hated the water, every drop of it.

Closed-eyed pre-schoolers, ruining family memories since forever.

Just a few people at the beach in California, on Labor Day.

Not bad.

He said, "What is that big blue pool?" Poor Texan.

You are shocked I enjoyed some champagne on vacation, aren't you?

It's always disappointing when you order a "large mimosa" and are brought something like this.

 

Oh, hey! I got to hang out with (and drink delicious drinks with) some S. California bloggers, all ladies I really really love and get to see in November at the Blathering. (Woo!)

I was a little worried Kyle would be timid with the Disney characters. He's just sort of a timid little dude in new situations. (He gets that from both parents, actually.) But he LOVED the characters and he wanted to see them all. (Pluto eluded us until the parade.)

Kyle's first rollercoaster! He loved it. That kid continues to surprise me.

MICKEY! You really can't tell--Kyle looks like he's always hanging out with Mickey, no bigs--but his mind was blown. Mickey was his top choice and when we walked into the room to see him, I could feel his excitment.

All the boys on the trip.

Kyle and his Nana.

Friends' kids holding hands. I KNOW, RIGHT?

I hope Kyle remembers the trip as I hope he remembers all his trips--an extra bright spot in an already bright life. That's exactly what they mean to me.

We miss you already, California.

(All the delicious food we ate coming next week!)

Soccer Mom

Here's a piece of advice: if you've never watched three year olds practice soccer, fix that immediately. It'll be the most adorable thing you've ever witnessed and why deprive yourself of that much adorableness? (Although, you know, make sure it's your own child or a child you know and love so you can avoid being the stranger creeping on the the soccer field.)

Kyle had his first soccer practice yesterday and if you're wondering How the heck did that kid get old enough to play soccer?, well, YOU AND ME BOTH. I'm struggling to wrap my head around the speed with which he's growing, but it's still so damn awesome to watch him grow.

Thankfully, he's on a team with a few friends from school so instead of shyly watching from the sidelines (what I suspect his response would have been if he hadn't known any of the other kids) he jumped right in, listening attentively and adorably for the first half of class and then, well, breaking down into hysterical silliness with his friends the last half. "Oh look at him dribble so well! He's even correctly using the inside of his fo---no wait, now he's purposefully fallen down and trying to make his friend laugh by, wait, is he kicking himself?" 

As I kept saying to the other parents: Three year olds, right?

I'm also the Soccer Mom, as in the Team Manager. So far, all this really means is I'm in charge of organizing the end-of-year party. And, yeah, SOLD. I AM ALL OVER THAT. There is a Pinterest board just waiting to be started, let me tell you. Mike is the assistant coach, and this might be his proudest parenting moment to date. He played soccer all through school and when he was told he was going to be a dad, I bet "I get to be a soccer coach one day" was his first thought right after "well, Jennie's about to get even more emotional for a while. That's swell." One thing about Mike, though, is that he's really awful with names. (See the time he thought he dated Kelly Clarkson.) (Spoiler: He didn't actually date Kelly Clarkson.) I could tell he was trying hard to quickly learn the kids' names last night, but it was rather hilarious to hear him from the stands, "Great job....buddy!" "Awesome dribbling....you!" He'll get there, and Kyle will have a blast in the meantime.

Me? Well, no shock, I'll be the one tearing up in the stands.

He's just so big.

Our Puerto Rico Vacation, Part Three: Old San Juan + The Logistics (& Cost) of the Trip

(Since it's been a few weeks, catch up: our first leg on the mainland and second leg on Vieques.)

The last stop of our Puerto Rico vacation was a night in Old San Juan.

We opted for the incredible, can't-recommend-enough Hotel El Convento, and it was so charming. The staff was also over-the-top awesome. Seriously, I'd like to live in this hotel in my next life. We were exhausted and famished upon arrival, so we didn't do nearly as much exploring as I would have liked, but reason to go back? Reason to encourage you to stay there when you visit Puerto Rico, so I can stalk your vacation photos? Yes to both!

We ate at the pizza place adjacent to the hotel and we literally chose it because we were (as I mentioned) so hungry and so tired and the thought of pulling out the guide book or Googling made me want to lay down in the middle of the adorable cobblestoned road. We just basically pointed at the closest place to eat and asked for a table. (Here's a link.)

It was delicious! I love when you randomly pick a gem without any planning whatsoever. (They had Peroni, a favorite beer of ours!)

After that, Mike needed a nap, so I took my Kindle to the rooftop pool. I spent a few hours reading, lounging, playing on my phone, and it was so nice.

Then, Mike got up and we went to the complimentary wine-and-cheese cocktail hour the hotel throws EVERY SINGLE NIGHT and enjoyed glasses of bubbly (and beer for Mike) and a helluva lot of cheese. It was nearly worth the stay by itself. Also, it was just for an hour and people were literally piling plates full of cheese and pouring MULTIPLE, LIKE TEN, glasses of wine, so I think it's a fairly liberal complimentary wine-and-cheese cocktail hour and you should feel free to go with an empty stomach. At one point, I said to Mike, "Maybe I should get a second glass, think that's okay?" And he said, "Well that person just took the bottle to her table, so go for it."

After the free booze, we just walked and snapped photos and I picked up a pair of earrings at a local shop. We then stopped in for ice cream at Ben & Jerry's on our way back to the hotel, which is really un-touristy, I know, but it was delicious. I make no apologies about ice cream, ever.

We read and watched tv the rest of the night, and slept something like 11 hours in anticipation of our full day of travel. It was a lovely, relaxing, slow-paced last night in Puerto Rico.

***

Some general wrap-up-type suggestions and thoughts:

- First, we probably would have planned our trip differently if we had the magic of hindsight. We would have split it up with 2-3 days in Old San Juan and 3-4 days on Vieques. Any other part of the island worth seeing (the Central Mountains, the rainforest, etc.) can be accessed via a rental car or tour company for a day trip and staying on another part of the island didn't feel special or worthwhile by itself. Our resort from the first part of our trip, while amazing (I really couldn't have been happier with it), could have been any resort in any beachy area.

(Disclaimer: we didn't get to the southern or eastern parts of the island, though, so those might be worth going off the beaten path.)

- We rented a car and that worked for our specific trip but the driving/roads are far more stressful than we could have imagined. If you plan to stay in Old San Juan/just take day trips for excursions, cabs or tour companies can handle your transporation.

- From what I can tell about the Carribbean (as a general group of islands) while you don't necessarily feel unsafe, there are certainly areas you should avoid, and Puerto Rico is no exception. Know those areas before you go. (La Perla is an area I heard to avoid, but we never got anywhere near it, as far as I could tell, so I can't speak from experience.)

Annnnnnnd, the fun dollars-and-cents section:

We paid for the flights and hotels almost completely with rewards points and airline miles, and here's how:

Flights:

I stalked the aa.com website like a mad woman, which is where we had saved about 125K miles to use for the trip. (Side notes: 1) I opened a Citibank credit card in the fall for a 40,000-mile rewards incentive. In hindsight, this isn't the best travel rewards credit card, but it worked nicely in that we got a lot of miles in a short period of time. 2) We also signed up for a new energy company through AA and got 12.5K bonus miles from that. This energy company was cheaper than our previous one, and I did the entire transfer online, so that felt like no sacrifice at all.)

When we talked about taking this trip, we considered dozens of possibilities. We settled on a time of year (April - June) and then I punched in destination after destination to see if I could find good flight times + low mileage requirements. (Side note: Mike likes to travel, Mike does not like to travel plan. Thankfully, I do!) I also tried to do a very loose hotel cost check to see if we could afford to stay somewhere for a week once we actually got there -- which is how I took Turks & Caicos off the table. Reasonable to get to, hotels were really pricey. At first, Puerto Rico seemed completely off the table as well because from what I could find, it would take about 60K redeemed miles/person to get there and that would eat up ALL our miles. I didn't want that. (As a point of reference, searching now for a week trip to Puerto Rico shows basically the same thing I was finding: 60-70K miles/person.)

One day, I punched in our dates and decided to give San Juan another shot. Well, turns out the exact dates (Saturday - Saturday) were the same old thing (SO MANY MILES) but just a few days difference (Thursday - Thursday) offered a direct flight from DFW to SJU for about 35K/person or 70K total.

I snatched that deal right up.

Hotels:

I booked our first hotel using AA miles, as well. Before I did any deal scouting, I narrowed our hotel choice down to 3-5 places through TripAdvisor for rankings/reviews and Oyster.com for pictures. Hotels that 1) got a generally nice customer review rating, 2) seemed like a generally good price, if we were to pay out of pocket ($140-175/night seemed to be the average), and 3) that looked nice.

Once I had a few picked out, I checked the going rate on AA.com. The miles needed seemed high but you got an automatic 25-33% discount when you signed in with your account. The three nights we stayed at Gran Melia were popping up as worth ~60K miles for the whole time. When I signed in, the miles required dropped to 41.9K.

We had those miles left over from saving miles on the tickets, so I booked that room for no cost.

(It's hard to tell what the dollar value for an AA mile really is, so I can't say that we got such a fantastic bargain booking our hotel this way, but it felt like it, and that's sometimes enough, right?)

We had about 60,000 AmEx points saved, as well. (An AmEx Gold Rewards card is our usual go-to card of choice. It's what we use for nearly all our expenses (except our mortgage, day care, and the few months we were using our Citi card). I really like our AmEx card because you have to pay the balance in full each month, so you can't get into too much trouble, and the customer service is top-notch. While I like them a lot, I sometimes feel we don't get access to exceptional travel deals or rewards through their travel program alone, BUT we do get 20% of our points automatically returned whenever we book a flight, hotel, or package with points. Nice trade off!

We were using our points for our time in Vieques and, thankfully, our options were narrowed down for us since the island is so much smaller. For this part of our stay, I sent all my top choices to Mike and basically said PICK ONE, TRAVEL PLANNING IS EXHAUSTING. He did and I snatched those three nights up with our points. We had to spend $111 out of pocket for our three nights in Vieques BUT we got 20% of our points returned, so we were technically left with points after our purchase.

I waited to book our last night in Old San Juan until just a couple weeks before we left, and we chose the above Hotel El Convento, which would usually be out of our price range, but our remaining points covered about half of it (about $95).

My thoughts on activities and how to eat cheaper than we did

Other than our rental cars and transportation, nearly all the trip's cost was for activities, food, and drinks. We rarely shop on vacation. I'm not sure why, I like the idea of jewelry or art collected throughout our travels, but I also really like to eat, so that's usually what we focus our attention and wallet on.

First up, activities:

Probably a third (maybe even a little more) of the money we spent on the trip went toward activities. I won't regret a cent of that money, though, even the (many) cents we spent ziplining. Experiences are worth it, even the ones that make you want to vomit. (Feel free to quote me on that.) The other two excursions -- snorkeling at Culebra and kayaking with the bio-luminescent plankton -- were two of the trip's highlights and it seems like a small price to pay for those memories. Especially now, sitting on the couch and staring down a laundry pile. Being able to channel such an incredible memory during the busy day-to-day stress of life is worth the cost to me. Not always in the moment -- money is still money and we like to have it when bills are due -- but we try to let go of some of that neurotic penny counting when we're in a place we'll likely never be in again because we know we won't regret it.

There are also a lot of other activities I wish we would have had time and/or money for like horseback riding, a sunset cruise, a tour of the rainforest, a tour of the Bacardi factory (this one is free, but it was just logistically too hard for us to swing), so I'd suggest doing as much activity research as you can before you go so you feel you're getting the best deals and making the most of your time.

Remember that most activities are all-day affairs, and the sun is exhausting, so I wouldn't plan much else for the days you're DOING something. I know it's really annoying to hear vacationers complain about the exhausting snorkel cruise they took with free booze and beautiful views but our Culebra day trip had us in bed by 9pm. After a two-hour nap.

Now, the food

We spent a lot on money on food at our resort the first few nights and that's simply because the ease of eating AT the resort trumped driving into town to find a cheaper and more authentic meal at times. While I don't actually mind spending a little money on delicious food, resort food is usually overpriced just-okay food. Thankfully, we smartened up when we got to Vieques and did a lot more research and ate a lot more deliciously.

So, tip: try to research and bookmark a few places near your hotel or resort so that you can feel good about where you're going and what you'll likely spend (for at least a couple meals) without having to do much IN THE MOMENT to find those places. Look at menus before you go, check out Yelp!, etc. I don't hate spending money on food, but I really hate over-spending on food, and I think we fell into that trap a few times because we were tired and overwhelmed.

***

Holy hell, that was the longest post I've likely ever written and there's probably only ONE OF YOU who will ever find this information useful, but maybe someone will stumble upon it through a random Google search and ask me to write for the Puerto Rico Tourism Board (probably not, after I insulted their ziplining AND drivers), but it still feels good to get it all out.

At the off-chance you have any questions, feel free to leave a a comment or email me at shelikespurple AT gmail.com. I love talking travel. I'd also love to hear how you use miles or points or deals or tips or tricks or anything else to make traveling less expensive and more enjoyable. 

Until the next trip!

All He Wanted for Father's Day Was Some Uninterrupted Garage Time.

Every year it's the same, thank everything that this kid has this dad.

Happy (day after) Father's Day, Mike! Your kid (and wife and dog) are crazy lucky to claim you as our own.

Our Weekend in Oklahoma

We went to Oklahoma this past weekend and even though I've visited the state countless times before, I was surprised this trip by just how pretty parts of Oklahoma can be. (I know! I bet you're surprised too.) We drove out of Texas via 35N  into Oklahoma City right at the magical sunset hour, and there were sloping hills (well, hills by Texas' standards), green, green grass, and a really pretty sky. I also had a charming road-trip companion (that would be my kid) and he was a delightful, chattering fool the entire five-hour drive. He even chose the "pee on the side of the road instead of making Mommy hunt down a gas station at 10:30 p.m." option when he needed to go to the bathroom. Buy that kid a pony!

Once in Oklahoma, I stopped to pick up Mike (he had to head north before us for motorcycle race set-up shenanigans) and we then went to my grandma's house in Tulsa through Sunday morning. It was great to see her as it always is and even nicer for Kyle to have some time with her. We hung out, caught up, took in a local street festival, ate delicious food, and relaxed, mostly. (Side note: I also watched the Descendents on Saturday night and absolutely loved it. Totally lived up to the hype for me, refreshingly.)

I have a small, very spread-out family, and I promise it's only the latter that I struggle with. I don't particularly care about the size, I just wish we all lived on the same block. (Well, I wish that most of the time.) So, it's always like exhaling to be around anyone who loves Kyle like family should love him: fiercely, naturally, without pause. It's such an honor to introduce him (or help him cultivate relationships with) people who love him simply because he exists.

On Sunday, we drove about an hour to the motorcycle track and enjoyed a nice day of watching Mike be a total rockstar. He's completely in his element at the track, and I know both Kyle and I fall in love with him a little more every time we watch him zoom around on his bike. The weather was nice and cool and Kyle even got to ride with Mike during the spectator lap. (Don't fret! It's a lap intended for kids and family, and he rode on the tiny little pit bike, wearing a very secure helmet, going about 10 MPH.)

We watched a couple of the races from the bleachers and, adorably, Kyle can spot Mike's bike without me having to point it out to him, smart little dude, and every time he saw his bike coming around the bend, he'd shout at the top of his lungs: GO DADDY GO. YOU ARE SUPER FAST! The entire crowd was charmed by him. So was I.

As it goes in these situations, five minutes after we got home, I began planning a family camping trip for sometime this summer. (I think we'll camp in a cabin with A/C, though, just in case that declaration made you think I've officially lost it.) I love stealing away for some uninterrupted time with my family, and while every person has beautifully different visions of what family happiness looks like, mine looks just like that: showing my kid the world, tiny piece by tiny piece, holding Mike's hand, making memories as a trio as we go. (Molly is so pissed at me right now. Okay, Molly! You can come too.)

Some pictures:

More pictures (and video of Kyle dancing!) over here. 

Say It Again

The other day you and I were out and we ran into a friend of yours, someone I hadn't met before. You did what you do in these situations.

"Hey, so-and-so, this is my wife, Jennie."

It was nothing, really, has happened a hundred times before, really, but it's still that gut reaction, stomach-jumping, hard-to-describe feeling I get when I hear the word.

It's that smile I feel coming on without me having anything to do with it. It's that warmth I feel, and I wonder if who I'm being introduced to can feel it too. (I doubt it, but I hope it.)

I hear "my wife" and I think "say it again."

Day-to-day stuff can be tough. We yell, we stomp, we pout (fine, I pout), we cross our arms like motherfucking arm-crossing champs, and then we glare about broken promises across desperately-need-to-be-cleaned rooms yet -- still, but, always -- I fear if any of the real powers-at-be find out I snagged you, they'll snatch you from me. Because, my goodness, you're such a damn catch. (You look at me like I'm a catch too. Not always, let's be real, but enough to make me believe you.)

I still think our wedding day was the very best day of any day that could ever exist. (Well, that could ever exist without needles and vaginal tearing.) It wasn't perfect, it was definitely not sober start to finish, but it was just so damn happy. When I think of our wedding, I think beautiful, drunk happiness. When I think of our marriage, I think earned, worked-for, grateful-for (and, fine, maybe still a little drunk) happiness.

Then there's Kyle. Wow, did we luck out with this kid.

The boy you let me name, the boy who looks like me and calls for me in the dead of night, but the boy who grins like you. The boy who asks me, out of the blue on a random Tuesday, if he can have "an orange motorcycle like daddy when I'm big." The boy who has a floppy head of blond hair and a love of books but a soul that shines just like yours does. He is my beautiful boy, my buds, my brightest spot in all the sky, but he is your son, your stubborn, strong-willed, optimistic little dude.

I used to wish for a redheaded boy, and that would have been just lovely. I didn't realize back then, though, that a boy who looks like you isn't what I really wanted. What I wanted is what I got: a boy who reminds me of you. A boy who laughs often, loves without compare, who hugs tightly.

The other day I said to him, "Oh kid, you're so much like your father." He stomped a little and said, "No! I'm not like Daddy! I'm like Kyle Parker!" "Hate to break it to you, kid, but that's exactly what your daddy would say."

It's true. You stomp your feet just like he does.

What I really mean what I do that, when I compare you two, is that he is so damn decent, it stuns me anew every day. You are so damn decent, it suns me anew every day.

Thank you for him, Mike. Thank you for our life. Thank you for my own DVR and for changing my car's oil when it makes that funny noise and for picking up hummus or Diet Dr. Pepper or burritos on your way home from work, whatever I might be in the mood for, and for letting me shrilly yell at you when I just need to shrilly yell sometimes.

Happy five years (tomorrow) of blissfully, exhaustively, honestly, happily our marriage, Mike. In a lot of ways I'm still figuring this wife gig out, but oh thank goodness, you have faith I can do it.

I love you so much, it's ridiculous. I love you so much, it's not.

Your wife.

Say it again.

Five whole beautiful years.