She Likes Purple

It only takes a week

Last weekend was pure hell and this weekend has been pure bliss. Oh, life, you're funny. If you visited last weekend, you would have considered a child-free lifestyle after sending me both vodka and a maid. Yesterday, Kyle woke up in one of those toddler moods that is similar to pure sunshine, and if you had visited, you'd want one (or ten) just like him. Also, my mom came to watch Kyle, so I could get my hair cut. A couple hours to myself in a salon was just slightly better than three hours at the urgent care center like last weekend.

Oh, here's the hair. A little shorter, same (newish) dark color.

 

Make-up free since I like to keep it real (or, am lazy).

We also saw the sun this weekend, and I almost forgot how lovely it could be. I like rainy, dreary weather, or I did before having a kid because that weather encouraged lazy afternoon movie marathons and cuddling under the covers. Now, that weather means being imprisoned indoors with a kid who has the energy of a wild hyena. Kyle understands enough to shock the hell out of me most days but he has not grasped, "let's just sit still, buddy" quite yet. The sun shining is basically a flashing neon sign that reads: YOU CAN LEAVE THE HOUSE, HALLELUJAH. Sometimes I invent reasons to go out. I think: we should mail our bills instead of paying them online, off to the post office! I think we're out of clothes pins even though I can't remember the last time I used a clothes pin, get in the car, let's go to Target! Who needs a Sonic drink from the Sonic across town instead of just down the street? 

If I finish all my laundry today, I'd call this weekend the best of February. Or at least the weekend most likely to keep me around these parts instead of running for the hills.

Hope yours has been just as lovely. Has it been?

Good writing

For a while, I've kept a Post of the Day section in my sidebar, and although it's become more like a Post of the Month feature, there are some incredibly written posts I've dropped in there, and I can always count on enjoying them again when I re-read.

I've decided to add a page to my site where I keep all those posts in one place, archived for your reading pleasure. You can't go wrong with any of them, I promise. (I will try and update regularly, too.)

Part of successful blogging (if success is measured by ad revenue and page traffic) is marketing yourself and your site well, and I admire the hell out of anyone who can genuinely market their blog enough to drive their numbers through the roof (I market for my day job, so good marketing is certainly not lost on me). But, strip the design and the gimmicks away, and all that really matters (to me, at least) is: What's the content like? Is it good? Is it well-written? Is it smart and funny and sincere?

Twitter follower numbers and comments and page views can mess with your mind -- they certainly can mess with mine when I give them more brain space than they deserve -- and it's easy to let jealousy creep in when you see someone else climbing the popular blogger ladder at lightning speed. It's normal to become kind of crazy about this or that blogger or this or that blog award, and I've let myself go there more times than I'd like to admit.

It's part of what was frustrating me this past week: letting the wrong blogging aspects affect me. Whenever this happens, I know I need to ignore the numbers and focus on the writing (for me and others). 

Long way to say, go enjoy the posts I've archived over there. And feel free, as always, to share your recent favorite posts (yours, others, whatever!) in the comments.

Bullets that have nothing to do with each other

- Are you part of Book Lushes? Do you live in the DFW area? If you answered yes to both, go here and tell me if you'd be interested in a local book club meet-up to talk about the March selection. I'm hoping to aim this talk post-April 4, so we can have wine at our meet-up. I think all meet-ups should have wine.

- American Idol. I've read countless recaps saying how horrible this group is and how horrible Ellen is and how the show, well, it has lost it, but no! No! It's usually bad the first live week and Ellen is no Kara, fine, but she's no Paula either, THE WOMAN WHO COULD NOT SPEAK ENGLISH UNDERSTANDABLY. Also, I think there are some incredible singers this go round, really. (Andrew, Lee, Didi, Lilly) (Not to mention, season TWO. AND THREE. Both horribly boring and sub-par seasons that I couldn't even bring myself to watch regularly.)

- Kyle's still not walking, and I actually don't care much. I'm surprised at how not worried I am about this because, ha-ha, that's just what I do. Some adults pay their bills on time and get plenty of sleep and eat all their vegetables whereas I obsessively worry. I know he'll do it when he's ready, though, and he's shown all the signs of getting there. I even think he could probably do it now, he's just not that interested, BUT I keep thinking how much easier it would be if I didn't have to carry him everywhere. To put him down on the ground and let him get himself from point A to point B would be such a nice change of pace. It's more that I'm lazy than worried, you see.

- I ran two straight miles yesterday. I was so exhausted and so sweaty but also so damn proud of myself that when I walked out to my car, I half-expected a marching band playing celebratory tunes and a group of friends clapping and throwing confetti to be waiting for me. I was just so taken aback that I could do that. It wasn't easy, oh no, and I wanted to quit roughly 9 million times throughout those 28 minutes (my pace is slow, yo), but I've never run two straight miles in my life. Even when I was 108 pounds and dancing every day, I wasn't running. This is a DAMN FEAT but, my god, I have to run a whole extra 1.2 miles in exactly a month, and if I do it, I really will expect that confetti. Got that?

- I find myself constantly thinking about Top Chef -- which isn't normal, I know -- but my love for that show runs deep. I get physically sad when a season wraps-up because I know I'll have to wait months and months for another installment, and although I couldn't really get into Top Chef Masters its first season, I will definitely be tuning in when it airs in April. I NEED MY TOP CHEF FIX. Where is the foie gras? And the ceviche? I'd even take gratuitous foam usage if I could just see one little Quickfire. (And all those Top Chef knock-offs don't do it for me. Chopped, The Next Food Network Star, blah blah, NO.) Do you have a show like this? That you are unhealthily attached to?

- We kick off our Meatless March this Monday, and I plan to document it (who's surprised?) but almost exclusively over on my Flickr stream. So, follow along, if you'd like.

We finally have a clean-bill-of-health baby, so we're going to pack our weekend with plans (as in: WE'RE GETTING OUT OF THE HOUSE, WHOO), but tell me, what are you up to this weekend?

Yesterday sucked and today's only slightly better

I've had a bad week. I feel out of sorts and frustrated and also not sure what to make of this blog right now. It used to be so healing, but lately I feel I'm failing at it. Also, commute traffic and stalled weight loss and bills are all a pain in my ass. (My not-shrinking-fast-enough ass, might I add.) Life can be a bitch, you know?

Oh, but I always have a silver lining. It should be his nickname.

 

Channeling his inner Andrew Garcia, who is his favorite on Idol. He thinks the judges were way harsh about him last night. Also, Didi's a dark horse, yo!

Blogrolling

I've been updating my blogroll for months, which is why it's been taken off my main page. If you'd like a visual, picture a lot of html half-codes and partial links. In short, a hot mess. It'll be a miracle if all the links work when I'm done. I hope to finish up this week soon, but before I hit "publish," I thought I'd share a few of my favorites here, from lots of different blog types.

One Love Photo -- I wrote a post about this married couple slash photography team on Style Lush, but they deserve another mention. Their photos are stunning, in a way I wish all photos could be. 

Mommy Melee -- She writes about both blog-related ithings and life-related things in perfect balance, while making her points clearly and with a strong voice.

Quarter Life Crisis -- I love the way Jen writes. She has a way of saying something exactly as it should be said. You don't fumble on a single sentence, and I admire that. (And check out her adorable son.)

Party Perfect -- We've already established I love a good party. This blog is like crack for the party planner.

Ezra Pound Cake -- Delicious, easy, versatile recipes. 

Lemon Gloria -- Lisa is the kind of fun, hilarious mother I wish I could find living right next door. Seriously, I envy her friends. Their happy hours must kick ass. (There's a theme with my favorite blogs, apparently, they all have cute sons.)

My Kitchen Cafe -- Quite possibly the most mouth-watering baked goods on the Internet. My thighs would like me to click away, but I just can't.

Inchmark -- Another stylish and creative blog about celebrating and entertaining.

Mandajuice -- She's fantastic, enough said.

Walk Slowly, Live Wildly -- I like reading blogs of people that are so obviously cooler than me. It's inspiring (albeit a little defeating), and I just love this writer and her cool, cool family.

So, what about you, any great blogs you'd like to share?

Siblings

Annika asked, "Have you found an answer to: Will Kyle have siblings?"

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The number of people who asked me at Kyle's birthday party when we were having our next kid: 3

My answer to all of them: I don't know that we are.

Their response: BUT YOU MUST.

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Months ago, we were in a store, and this blond, barely-toddling boy was cruising the aisles. He was beautiful. His mother yelled after him, and the combination of her tone and the words she chose startled me. It wasn't usual frustration over a child who cannot be contained (oh, I know that frustration well), there was something underlying, something that made my skin crawl. She rushed over to him and yanked his arm, and he didn't cry. He didn't even flinch. I wanted to walk over and scoop that baby up and never look back. I think about him a lot.

I think about him more than I think about any other biological child I may have.

I do this thing, maybe you do it too, when I'm conflicted about something. I ask myself the of-the-moment question and then answer it quickly, with no time to really think about things. This first, gut reaction is usually the right one. So, when I did this recently about having another baby of my own, when I asked myself, quickly, "Do you want to have another baby, Jennie?" I answered quickly, "I want to adopt some day."

I don't know if this is a ridiculous won't-happen dream or if this is more a realistic-but-tough desire, but adoption is something I think about a lot and way more than I ever think about getting my redheaded baby one day.

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You know how there's always something up ahead? When you're dating, everyone wonders when you'll get married and when you get married everyone wonders when you're going to have a baby and then at that baby's first birthday, everyone wonders when you'll give him a baby sister or brother? Well, those questions have always made my stomach turn because I've always wanted that next thing well before getting that next thing. Mike and I were together three and a half years before getting married, and I felt ready for the next step most of that time. Then, it took us a year to get pregnant. But, now, when people ask me the question about our next kid, I smile because for once, I'm not anxiously looking toward it or wanting it so badly. I'm right where I want to be and I think it's going to stay just like this, at least until it's time to go after those big adoption dreams of ours.

Besides, "just like this" isn't half bad.

Question Game: Reversed!

To inspire me with what questions I should be asking YOU in my little Question Game feature, help me out, would you? Ask me a question. It can be anything at all! I'm a pretty open book and that seems to be OK with those who matter most (see: Mike). Although perhaps it's less OK and more has-accepted-his-lot. I'll answer them all (within reason, don't get weird on me), in one way or another, and I'll pick one question to be the next question I ask you. It's a circle of questions, which pleases me more than you'd probably like to know. Seriously, sometimes I read Trivial Pursuit questions aloud, to an empty room, for the fun of it.

So, what would you like to know?

(If it's math related, go elsewhere. I can't help you.)

More from the first birthday bash

I wanted to write a lengthy post about Kyle's first birthday party, but I think directing you to my Flickr stream is probably easiest, so take a look and also check out my notes and comments. 

Here you are. And here's one of my favorites to entice you.

 

Pretty cute. Kyle's not too bad either.

Let's talk about parties

In case there's any doubt, I like to throw parties. I think my favorite word of all time is community and although I like alone time just as much as anyone (give me a magazine, an episode of something teeny and bad, and a glass of champagne and I'm set), there's just something about a house full of laughing, chatting friends and family that makes me ooze bliss. I throw a party every chance I get, and sometimes I even create reasons to throw one (I hosted a champagne and cake party last fall and am planning a sunset brunch for April).

I also love perusing party blogs for party themes, favor ideas, neat little creative ways to make guests feel like kings and queens. I think I'd be a great Party Planner, but then I remind myself I'd spend my client's entire budget recreating awesome parties I saw on someone's blog. My execution: good. My creativity: not so good. Anyway, I wanted to share some of the ridiculously cool parties I've recently stumbled upon, in case they inspire you to throw a party yourself.

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Jessica with Juicy Bits might be my new party role model. I bet all her friends enjoy being invited to her kids' parties.

From her son's recent construction-themed party:

 

 

And her daughter's recent peaches-and-cream party:

 

{Photos courtesy of Juicy Bits}

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My favorite animal is a polar bear, you probably didn't know or care to know that, but there you have it. So, this polar bear party made me wish I could go back and recreate my sixth birthday party.

 

{Photo from Gillar Girl}

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Holly, with Nothing But Bonfires, put together this last-minute 30th cheese and cupcake birthday party for herself, and you'd never believe either of those things if I didn't just tell you. That she's 1) 30 or 2) able to whip up a last-minute party that looks so classy and fun and lovely.

 

{Photo courtesy of Holly}

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This truly beautiful nautical baby shower changes everything I ever thought about hosting a baby shower. There doesn't have to be lambs and ducks and pastel balloons everywhere? Wow.

 

 

{Photos from Over Cocktails}

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The Oscars are right around the corner. My husband would kill me if I threw together a viewing party so quickly (and expensively, I'm sure) but this Oscars party from last year inspires me all the same.

{Photo from Celebrate}

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How about you, any great parties you're throwing/attending these days?

Goals: making and meeting

Confession: my brain has more motivation than my body ever will. See, my brain wants to change the world, run a marathon, cook dinner and then put on something sexy for my husband. My body wants a donut, a nap and a magazine, in that order. My entire life has been a constant struggle reconciling what my brain wants to accomplish (EVERYTHING!) and what my body wants to accomplish (NOTHING! WITH A SIDE OF SLEEP!).

With all that said, 2010 has been quite a surprise for me. Despite it being stupidly cold, which I've hated, it's also been full of me pushing myself and doing new things and being a person of my word and, oh my hell, this stuns no one more than me.

Instead of getting into a rut or letting the new-year high fade into the springtime consumption of every chocolate bunny (marshmallow-filled, please!) imaginable, I'm setting new goals while continuing to go after some old ones. LIKE A REAL GOAL SETTER, OMG. This is all so novel to me!

For instance, last night, I high-tailed it to the gym after we got home from our mini-College Station trip, and I was set to run some intervals (jog five minutes, walk three, jog five, walk three, you get it) when I decided, let's see how far I can push this. I ran more than a mile, without stopping, and although I'm sure your toddler could run that long without breaking a sweat, one mile without stopping is not something I can normally do. In fact, it's not something I have done since I was 18. When I finished, there was only sweat on my treadmill and not parts of my hacked-up lung! Success! This 5K I'm attempting next month seems FEASIBLE and POSSIBLE instead of maybe something I just say I did while sipping mimosas instead.

Speaking of mimosas, I've decided to give those up for Lent (along with every other type of alcohol). Before you ask, no, I'm not even part Catholic and I've only ever attended a Catholic mass when I liked a Catholic boy, but that's OK, right? I mean, if partaking in Lent even though I'm not Catholic offends some, I should probably not mention all that pre-marital sex I had. This is more to see if I can do this and it's also a perfectly-timed reason to eliminate a lot of unnecessary calories so I can meet my goal weight faster. So, Easter Sunday, who's in for a keg party at my house?

I'm giving up two other things in March. The first: meat. The second: shopping. Mike and I are kicking off a Meatless March in a week or so, and thank god for food blogs is all I can say. (But, hey, feel free to share your favorite vegetarian recipe below.) We're not trying to make some Statement here or toying with extending our Meatless March to Meatless FOREVER; we're simply spicing things up, pushing ourselves to try new recipes, seeing if we can, etc.

The shopping, well, that's something I've done before and something I'd really like to do again because -- and this is going to shock the hell out of you, so you should probably sit down -- the quickest and most effective way to save money is not to spend it. I know! Next you're going to tell me eating less and working out more is the secret to weight loss or something! I'll still pay our bills and grocery shop and make sure Kyle has diapers, but Etsy, you've been warned.

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Hey, also, if you're proud of any part of your home, join the Style Lush Cribs flickr pool and share those cute rooms, nooks, corners, closets with us!

You didn't know we left, but now we're back

Mike and I zipped down to College Station Tuesday night (for the night) because when you have conflicting schedules and the best Nana on the planet, you squeeze in your Valentine's night away wherever you can even if "wherever you can" happens to be a Tuesday night that is not Valentine's Day at all. Why College Station, you ask? (After some of you ask "College Station is an actual place? I thought Julia Roberts was just making it up in My Best Friend's Wedding!") Well, the romantic version is this: it's where our Valentine's (pizza and beer) tradition started, six years ago. The realistic version is this: it's about all we could afford and it's on my 2010 to-do list.

We went to school in College Station, so it's not quite as if anyone has to twist our arms to return because we really, really loved it there and really, really love going back there and, most importantly, really, really miss the food there. Funny, we racked up a ridiculous bill at our romantic dinner this past Friday night and yet the pizza that brought us back to College Station (and the wings and the sandwiches and the potatoes and even the alcohol), all under $20 a pop, made our mouth water even more.

It was a pretty low-key day and night away, but if you are a parent, the very best hyphenated pairing someone can use to describe a day and night away is low-key, am I right? We ate lunch, we took a long nap, we saw a movie, we drove around, we had dinner, we shared a pitcher of beer and we watched TV until we both passed out (before midnight). It's a very small town, that college town of ours, and it's also a very conservative small town, where many buildings and street signs have the Bush name attached to them and where cowboy boots and hats and belt buckles are common and where the official school greeting is "howdy!" and where you wouldn't think I'd fit in at all if you know me well, but every time I drive out of that town, my throat closes a bit and my chest tightens and I look at Mike, misty-eyed, and say, "I don't want to leave." Isn't that just what home is? Not always a makes-perfect-sense fit, but where you belong all the same.

The other reason I love it there so much: the alcohol flows as cheaply as water (that pitcher of ours was $6!) and no one bats an eye if you're wearing a dirty old t-shirt to the dusty old bar.

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I'm back tomorrow with lots of links and updates (like what I'm giving up over the next month because I'm apparently a CRAZY PERSON) and maybe a picture of my kid, the one who acted like I was a complete stranger when I returned today. WHO ARE YOU, GIVE ME MY NANA BACK!?

Valentine's

Friday night Mike and I had an uber-romantic fancy dinner at a local restaurant. We love good food, but we also love wearing jeans and thankfully this place encouraged both. Last night I was lucky enough to have a girl's night with some great friends, although we saw Dear John, which might be the worst movie I've seen in a year's time. Although, in true Nicholas Sparks fashion, I laughed at the absurdity of 95% of it while bawling through the other 5%. Damn you, Sparks. Tonight we're cooking dinner and dessert, then watching The Amazing Race. (Then I'm shredding for like four straight hours.)

No one really needs a date on the calendar to remind them to be nice to those they're fond of, but I'm in the "sure can't hurt" camp. And not just who you share debt with, but also your friends, your cousins, your parents. Valentine's is all-encompassing, even if Hallmark wants to convince you otherwise. So, whoever you like a whole lot, tell them today. And tomorrow. And every day.

But, come on, a day that encourages chocolate consumption? Who can't support a day like that?

Kyle says "eat dessert!" today.

Love is grand.

One thing at a time

Most days are jam-packed. Wake up (early), shower, get dressed, snuggle the baby boy, get him dressed, grab a granola bar, drive drive drive, work work work, lunch, work work work, drive drive drive, burst in and snuggle the boy some more, feed him dinner, PLAY!, bath, pjs, bed (for him), dinner for me, quick rest, work-out (gym or home, depends), dishes, TV, blog blog blog, emails, pay bills, bed (for me).

I surprisingly like it like this way. I say surprisingly because I can be a real lazy ass if given the chance. But, seriously, I like a busy schedule, a busy life, a dozen balls in the air at any given point. I take on countless projects because they excite me. I also get a little thrill out of long to-do lists and more little thrills after I check something off those long to-do lists. I love multi-tasking; it's one of my favorite things, but I realized just last night as I was 1) watching Survivor with Mike 2) eating dinner and 3) working on the thank-you cards for Kyle's birthday presents that it's really easy to half-ass something when you're also doing a dozen other somethings.

Half-assing Survivor is one thing. Half-assing time with Mike or time with Kyle or even time eating a meal is another.

Sometimes it's daunting to just be still even though it's necessary for a sane mind, I'd say.

Running and working-out has helped me with this, somewhat. While I'm jogging or wishing pain on Jillian Michaels, I have to de-clutter my thoughts and there's literally nothing else I can do while exercising except think and focus. That's a much-needed-although-difficult lesson in being present. 

It's not nearly enough, though, as I have 23 additional daily hours where my focus is spread thin. So, starting today, I'm going to try very, very hard to focus on one thing at a time, at least once a day. If I'm watching Gilmore Girls or playing with Kyle or reading a book, that's what I need to be doing, not also doing something else. This is a small step, but I like small steps. They remind me big changes take time and that's perfectly OK. I'm adding this to my 2010 list because that's my favorite list in the world right now and we've already discussed my love for lists.

For today: I have a date night with my husband. For however long we're at dinner, I'm going to be at dinner, nowhere else.

What about you? What's the one thing you're going to do fully today?

Question game: Best stateside vacation destination

This is the third installment of The Question Game (part one, part two), and I think that officially makes it A Thing on this blog, which is fine by me. I'd be a professional question asker if I could be, no kidding. Anyway, this particular question is an extension from the Writer Round-up at Style Lush from last week, where I asked both writers and readers to share their favorite stateside vacation locations. There are so many fun, cool cities suggested over there, by the way, that it'd be a wonder if half our readers didn't book trips immediately after reading.

I suggested Austin because Texas was grossly unrepresented on the round-up, especially for being so damn big and for (usually) having such tolerable weather in the non-summer months, but it's also got great food and good people. Go there, if you ever get a chance. My gut reaction, though, was to say Lake Tahoe, and I only resisted because California was the opposite of Texas. It was so well-represented, I'm a little upset the California State Tourism Board didn't personally send me a thank-you note on letterpress stationary. I suppose I could have claimed Nevada for Tahoe, but I got married on the California side of the line, so I'm partial to Tahoe City. It's beautiful, no question about that, but it's also laid-back, inspiring and has incredible food and year-round fun activities. 

(Lots of pictures here, here, here and here.)

(Shit, I was skinnier back then.)

So, what would you say? Although feel free to answer with any city, it's safe to assume that all the big ones are givens. Who doesn't enjoy at least some part of NYC or Chicago or San Francisco?

I'm dying to know, even though we've now covered travel pretty thoroughly around these parts. (I promise to ask a different kind of question next time.)

Not always easy

Mike and I have been bickering more than usual lately. I could come up with a dozen reasons why -- work, commuting, the effing winter that will not end, money, Kyle's birthday, yada yada -- but do you really care about why? I mean, we care, obviously, but do you? Probably not. It's just been one of those slumps, you may have them too?, but I hate them. We've been through them countless times before and it never seems to get any easier. The slammed cabinet doors and the overuses of "you always!" and "you never!" and then watching American Idol cross-armed because it's what we DO together but we can't actually LAUGH or ENJOY IT since we're FIGHTING and STOMP, GRR, RAGE.

I want to be a calm, rational, not-easily-riled wife. I want to be the voice of reason, the fixed point, the anchor for this family because that's what moms do, didn't you know? Let's rip this band-aid right off, though, especially if you're set to meet me at some point this year: I am not that mother. I'm emotional, overly-sensitive and kind of insane. I lose my temper, freak out and say things I don't mean. I fight like a four-year-old. I stew. I pout. I snap. I mumble under my breath, which has always pushed my mother to the brink.

Most of the time I go back and forth between thinking I am the best wife ever ("He is LUCKY to have me. He's never folded a single load of laundry in six years, why doesn't he give me flowers EVERY DAMN DAY MY GOD.") and someone who does not deserve him on my best day ("He's so together and relaxed and I'm a basket-case and WHAT WAS HE THINKING?"). I'm not easy to live with, love, know. I know I don't make it easy on him although, sure, he's been known to make a few people pull their hair out a time or two.

I've seen Mike cry four times in six years. Once, our wedding. Also, Kyle's birth. The other two times, insanely personal. In six years I've cried.....(calculating, calculating).....nine MILLION times. I'm like Jake the Bachelor and I'm not even watching this season. I'm just reading Miss Banshee's funny-as-hell recaps. Hell, I cried just fifteen minutes ago watching "The Biggest Loser." We're different. We're opposites. Sometimes we attract, sometimes we, you know, MAKE THINGS EXPLODE. LIKE EACH OTHER'S HEADS.

Usually, blog posts like this wrap up with nice, shiny bows about how I LOVE HIM SO and WE'RE SOUL MATES SO ROUGH PATCHES CAN SUCK IT and other blather I just can't do. Marriage is hard, and if it's not hard for you, you are either lying or a lucky sonuvabitch who I'm not convinced is sober.

I will say that I don't worry too much about writing things like this. Honestly, I think I'll really start worrying when I don't care enough about my marriage to write things like this.

Define handmade

On my Things to Do in 2010 list, I have "make Kyle a birthday banner by hand."

So, putting this to a vote: does it count if it was indeed made by hand, just not by my hand? My best friend Natalie (and her mom and Granny) made this for Kyle, and displaying it made me ridiculously happy and not at all stressed out, which are signs of a great craft project, don't you think?

Can I put a line through this list item or not?

Does it help that I made these cake balls all by myself, only getting assistance from my dad and husband during the tasting portion of the recipe?

 

(Recipe here. Not for those concerned about their pants fitting the next day, by the way.)

Tell it to me straight. Although, I have a few cake balls left over if you tell me what I want to hear.

Smart Pop winner and offer

We'll talk more about Kyle's BIG! FIRST! BIRTHDAY! later this week, after we've properly recovered from the sugar highs and screaming children and also uploaded some more photos (to start, there are a few here and here). But for today, a giveaway winner and a bonus prize for the rest of you!

From this post, about my day job, we have lucky #27 winning a free copy of the book of their choice.

#27 is Jen L. (Jen, I'll email you for your pick and address!)

For everyone else, you can purchase any Smart Pop book (full list and info here) for an already discounted rate through our site (30% off the list price) but through Wednesday, you'll get an extra $2 off your total with the code SMARTPOP.

Go, shop, read, enjoy!

Happy birthday, KC

Dear Son,

I haven't written much about the day you were born, and there is one, simple reason for this: sometimes trying to use words to describe something indescribable is silly. I'll never forget that day, ever ever ever, and it's the one day of my life I'm not worried about documenting because it just takes one moment to bring me right back there. That day was one year ago exactly, and it was one of the two best days of my life. The other? The day I put on a big dress, drank too much and took your dad's (and your!) last name.

This entire year, through milestones and sleepless nights and exhaustion and all those germs (seriously, when will that stellar immune system of yours kick in?), there has been one constant thread of thought for me and that's been that I can't possibly deserve a boy such as you. You prove the humbling fact that sometimes our realities exceed our dreams because on the best and brightest day before you, I could never have imagined you. You blow every dream I ever had so far out of the water, I now forgo daydreams and just look at pictures of you instead.

I recently re-read some of the emails I wrote you this year and one of them said, "sometimes I think your dad has been waiting his whole life to talk to you." I don't remember writing that, but I'm so glad I did as that seems to be the best way to say what your dad and I constantly feel, that we've been waiting our whole lives to talk to you and play with you and know you. We had it good before, and we still miss all those mornings we used to sleep till noon, but how did we make it so long without you? I'm sometimes dumbfounded because, my oh my, you're so much fun.

I regret some things from the past year and most of those regrets come in the shape of how I fell short of being the mom you deserve. My brow was furrowed a lot, my voice was raised too often, my muscles tense and wound up and I probably said "no" to you 85 kajillion times. More than anything else in this great, wide world I want for you, I want you to enjoy your life. I want you to be happy, to have loads and loads of fun, to be a kid for as long as possible. There has never been a greater reason in this world for me to lighten the hell up than you. You make me want to forget the laundry and play with a soccer ball for an hour straight. You remind me that schedules are good, but going to the park on a whim is better. Responsibility and paying our bills in a timely fashion and grocery shopping are all important, but making vroom-vroom! noises and laughing really loudly and eating dessert first, well those things are necessary.

I wanted you to be a boy. Have I ever told you that? There's this weird unspoken rule that women want girls and men want boys but, no no, not me, Kyle. I wanted a truck-loving, rolling-in-the-dirt, smelly boy. For a lot of hard-to-articulate reasons but mostly because I knew I needed you to breathe life back into me. I take things too seriously and I knew, in my bones, that I needed you to help me loosen up, forget all those crazy rules and just smear pears on my face every once in a while. You are my boy, my guy, my man. I knew it was going to be you.

I made this video for you (fine, for me too) and included one song I will print out and frame and hang on your wall until you are a surly teenager who could care less his mother loves him, who will roll his eyes and take it down and sneak out the house and think up new and creative ways to piss me off. Even then, I will say these words in my head (while thinking of new and creative ways to ground you) because if there's only one thing you should know, Kyle, it's this: you'll never have to do a thing to earn my love. It's an unchangeable part of who you are, like your brown eyes. You'll doubt that love a lot, especially when I won't let you do something you really, really want to do, like act stupid. But, no matter what, I love you I love you I love you.

How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough, is forever enough
How long do you want to be loved
Is forever enough
Cause I'm never, never giving you up

Untitled from shelikespurple on Vimeo.

Happy birthday, buds.

Love,

Your Mama

Runner

Today, I forked over $48.50 for my first 5K, happening end of March. If you want to run with (or, most likely quite faster than) me, the details and some more thoughts from yours truly can be found at Bodies in Motivation today.

I don't know if I've mentioned this, but growing up my dad was a race director in San Francisco, and my family was part of a running organization (who, wow, are still around and have a website). He directed the San Francisco Marathon and lots of other races, too, and that running group was my family. I spent holidays and birthdays with them and many of them even came to my wedding, years and years after I left California. For many, Sunday is a day to worship, but for most of my childhood Sunday was a day to rise early and go to a race. I rarely ran though and when I did run, even as a kid, I walked a lot of it. Running never came easy to me, although both my parents used to run often.

Some people have no desire to run or to exercise through running, but it's always been a (seemingly hard to reach) goal of mine.

I know what a running community looks and feels like. I just don't know what it looks and feels like to be a runner.

Last night, although it was only three straight minutes before switching to a fast-paced walk as part of my Couch to 5K intervals, it was the first time in five weeks I felt this goal wasn't crazy and that somehow, someway I would be able to do this.

One day I'll be a runner.

House husband

One thing I was not entirely prepared to hear when Mike began staying home during the week was this:

"So, on Ellen today..."

Mike thinks Ellen is fantastic, and he now knows who Robert Pattinson and Taylor Lautner are not from all those New Moon trailers or red carpet screams but because they were on Ellen. He didn't know who Helen Mirren is -- hey, if they weren't on the Discovery channel, they weren't on Mike's radar before -- but this year when he saw her on the Golden Globes, he was all, "SHE WAS ON ELLEN!" Yep, celebrities are now all famous because "they were on Ellen."

He also thinks Dennis Quaid is the funniest man on the planet because of this.

Then I came home one night to find him making fondant in our kitchen. Also making: a mess like you've never seen. He'd even visited a bakery supply store earlier in the day to stock up on tools and things.

He spent hours and days designing Kyle's birthday invites, which we of course fought over because if you're not a long-time reader you should know that when it comes to correspondence, my husband and I can seriously brawl.

He knows the pharmacy workers by name and the best local parks, too. He's getting good at this staying-home gig, and nothing proves that more than how much Kyle prefers him to me. I'd be pretty bummed about it if I didn't usually prefer Mike to myself, too.

Before you start feeling too jealous of the husband lottery I won, you should know he still saves the dishes for me to do each night.

Although he'd probably start tackling that chore if Ellen told him to.