I'll Have the Lobster Special

We just celebrated Yeats' first HALLOWEEN. It was just as fantastic as I thought it would be! I decided that I wanted to dress her in a costume that was fun, whimsical, involved, and funny. Naturally, this led me to a Lobster costume. :)

I saw the costume in a magazine (is it me, or do random magazines start showing up in the thousands when you have a baby?! Ridic!), and laughed out-loud, it was so silly looking. "That's it!" I said. It arrived in early October, but I waited until Sat (30 Oct 2011) to dress Yeats in it, prior to a party we were going to. I laughed so hard I cried....it was even more ridiculous and wonderful in person! Luckily, it was warm and comfortable, and YV was able to wear it on Sat at the party, on Sun at my Mom/Michael's, and on Mon, for actual Halloween. We walked to the houses of a few of our neighbors on Halloween, and then went to my Dad/Lisa's, visiting a few of their friends there. It was so cute, and a wonderful memory. :)

F the "C" Word.

That's right... F the "C" word. F*CK CANCER. I said it, and I mean it. Nobody ever did anything to Cancer, but Cancer is determined to do something to millions of people. Quite simply, it sucks.

On 2 October, 2011, my amazing stepmother, Lisa, lost her younger sister, Rita, to breast cancer. I lost my Aunt Rita. My Uncle Ben lost his beautiful wife. And Rita's two young sons, just starting into their 20's, lost their mother. So senseless. So unfair. WHY?!?!

No one knows why. We here on earth are not supposed to be able to answer "why?" But that doesn't stop us from asking, it doesn't make not getting an answer any less frustrating. And actually - in asking, it seems we are able to move slowly forward; the same, and yet forever changed.

My Aunt Rita was, especially to me as a child, the light in the room. She was energetic, funny, self-deprecating in the best way, ALWAYS SMILING, giving, interested in others and good at making you feel that she was truly invested in what you were saying... She was a warm person who made you feel loved and included. She was a very good, very loving, very strong woman. And she will be missed by so many people, in so many ways.

Last weekend, we went to Richmond to see my in-laws. My father-in-law was recovering from surgery for prostate cancer. Again, F the "C" word. He had just gotten word that the tissue they removed to test his prostate for additional cancer was CLEAN. It was lovely to be with him and them that evening, to celebrate in person, and to say our thanks for this massive blessing. My father-in-law knows he is lucky, and he is so thankful. We are so thankful, too.

It is so upsetting that this disease is still invading innocent people and taking over their bodies. Some fight the disease and it runs, scared. Some fight the disease again and again, with brutal strength, only to lose. It is a mystery, and God-willing, we will see the cure(s) in our lifetime.

Gratitude

Life is so unpredictable. UNDERSTATEMENT. The last two months have been...unpredictable, wild, sad, happy, surprising, disappointing, moving, remarkable, and significant. Without going into it ALL in too much depth, I will start with things that go "boom."

On Sept 10, 2011, YV fell off of her changing table onto the hardwood floor in her bedroom... Obviously, it was a total accident, born of YV's desire to not sit still for even ONE minute, and one squirm too many whilst I was trying to change/dress her. It was terrifying for me in the moment, and even more scary when our normally chipper, smiley, happy, calm & "zen" baby was just...not any of those things. X-rays during a trip to the emergency room revealed a broken collarbone. CT scans showed no brain swelling or skull fracture. AMEN. But, the CT scans also showed something else, something we never would have seen or known about otherwise; a cyst on YV's brain. It was called a Mega Cisterna Magna, said the ER Doc. I was sitting down when she told us this news, and I can only describe the feeling I felt, hearing those words, as being like someone socking me square in the stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. Ever the Type-A personality, however, I immediately switched to "inform me" mode and was asking questions. What was the cyst, how long has it been there, why didn't we see it in prenatal scans, what will it mean for Yeats, will it get bigger, will it affect her development, what do we do now, and on and on and on. I asked so many questions, I think I made the doctor's head spin. The ER doctor wasn't a neuro-surgeon, and didn't know too much about these cysts, but - she "wasn't going to lie to us," it was "the largest she'd ever seen."

I don't have to tell you how scary those words were to hear. Here we were, reeling from our daughter's accidental fall, sick with guilt born from the "what if's" of the fall, terribly upset about the broken collarbone and our melancholy daughter who is normally ALL smiles... And yet, none of it means squat next to...a cyst...in her brain...possible developmental issues... Suddenly, this random visit to the ER has become TERRIFYING. We make an immediate appointment with our Pediatrician to get a referral to a neuro-surgeon. Even those words, NEURO-SURGEON, give me the chills. Still.

We saw our peds; he didn't know much about these cysts, so he didn't even want to look at the CT scan pics we had on disc, or to make assumptions or inferences. We understood. He referred us to an amazing pediatric neuro-surgeon at Children's National Medical Center. We called, and were told it would be a week before we could get in to see him. I was freaking out and jumped at the receptionist; "a week?! This is our daughter, it's a cyst on her brain, please!?" She said Dr. Myceros was seeing 25 patients on that day alone. Oh. How much that affected me; realizing that this one doctor was seeing 25 children...in one day. :( And so, we waited our turn, just as other parents had before us, and as other parents were also waiting their turn.

That week was, without a doubt, the longest week of my life. Thinking, reading, studying, praying, praying, praying, not sleeping, crying, hoping, hugging, and did I say praying!? That's all I did. I examined every little thing YV did for "signs" that she was having issues. Nothing. She seemed happy, even despite the painful collarbone break which had, thanks to the cyst, become a far-away second fiddle. Days earlier, we had been blissfully ignorant to this cyst, to ANY issue(s) about to confront us. We had never imagined a brain cyst. Who does?! I had imagined many things, for reasons you know if you know me well...I was uber prepared for God to choose me to parent a child(ren) with issues, b/c He knows I could handle it and have. But, now, I had a child that might have something that I had just NEVER thought about. It was, in a word that just doesn't even cover it, jarring.

The appointment came. It was on a Thursday at 10 a.m. As we were sitting in the waiting room, Jeff took my hand and said "it's going to be okay. She's going to be okay." While I am the most optimistic person I know, I will tell you that I am also a blunt realist. I replied, "maybe, but somebody, some kids, some families, walk in here and it is not okay. I don't want to assume that we aren't those people. It can happen to anyone." And that's still how I feel. God BLESS those people, those families, those children.

We answered every question, and we asked 100,000 more, before the doctor looked at the scans. We covered EVERY BASE. Then, the doctor opened the scans on his screen...his distant persona became immediately warm. He told us that we had a 100-percent healthy daughter who would never, ever have implications from the cyst, in any way. It was just there. And it would stay there, not grow, and not hurt our sweet girl. I cannot tell you how those words melted into my brain in such a pleasant and other-worldly way. I have never, in my whole life, been more thankful to God, more humbled and appreciative for prayers and warm thoughts, than at that moment. Moments earlier, I had been in dispair. Now, I was the happiest I'd been since welcoming my sweet girl into this world. She would be okay. AMEN.

Something I unintentially learned from this experience was that there is nothing more comforting in a challenging/sad/scary period, than kind, warm, true, insightful, or religious thoughts and feelings from friends and family, showing they CARE. I shared some of this journey with others on my Facebook. It wasn't TMI, and it also wasn't "poor me." It was, in all honesty, my steadfast belief in the power of prayer, that led me to sharing on FB. I just wanted as many positive thoughts and prayers going out for YV as possible. What I got in return was astounding. So, so, so many messages of hope, encouragement, prayer, love, friendship, and shared experiences. I heard from so many people...friends I usually don't hear from, family near and far, friends who both know YV well and those who have never met her. Messages on FB, emails, cards and gifts in the mail for us and for YV... It was AMAZING.

After the neuro-surgeon appointment, later that day, I remarked to Jeff that what I felt more profoundly than any other emotion, at knowing our daughter was going to be okay; was GRATITUDE. I was/am literally FILLED with gratitude for those people, for those friends and family and for their words; for the time they took out of their days (some on multiple days!) to write, to let me/us know they cared, that they were thinking positive thoughts for YV, or adding us to their church prayer request list, etc. It was so moving. People are busy! I felt such profound interest and care and love from SO many wonderful people, and for that & them, I will forever, ever and ever be grateful.

Likewise, some who should have, or who I thought would, did not reach out. I don't know why...but I do think that, sometimes, some people don't know how to simply say, "I'm thinking of you," or "what a scary time, hoping for the best." Things like brain cysts, cancer, sickness, and death paralyze certain people who find those things, those realities...too real. It takes 10 seconds to let someone know that you care. And in those 10 seconds, and four simple words, like "we're praying for you," you can make a profound impact on someone's life. OR not.

For everyone that prayed for our sweet, beautiful, baby girl; thank you. You will never know how much it meant to us. :)

I'm in a New York State of Mind (I [heart] NYC)

I don't actually know how old I was the first time that my Dad and Lisa took my sister and I to NYC. I was definitely young. We drove into the city and stayed for a weekend. When we arrived in our yellow Lincoln Towncar (yes, yellow - like, banana/nilla wafer yellow - agh!), we had our sunroof open, and one of my most vivid childhood memories is this... We drove down to Lower Manhattan, as my Dad wanted to show us the "tallest buildings in the world," as our introduction to the city. It was a cloudy overcast day, and as we drove "under" the buildings, as it seemed, my Dad told us to look up through the open sun roof. "Look up, now, now!" he said. There, we saw them, the Twin Towers. They were so tall that they ascended up through the could line, to a point where we couldn't actually see the tops of the buildings. I was amazed, awestruck, and in love with NYC.

Going forward in my life, countless trips to NYC have followed. The city is just one of those places that truly captures me; my imagination, my energy, my love of people and different cultures, tolerance, incredible food, color, and music. Whether it's the ethnic vibe that you can't escape, the fact that - as someone who often wakes in the middle of the night and can't fall back to sleep - you always hear something (honks of horns, people laughing, doors shutting, sirens, planes overheard, helicopters, motorcycles, horses clomping along shouldering a police officer or carrying a carriage, and so on) and therefore never feel alone... Or if it's the endless lights, the signs on Broadway, the music coming out of alley-hidden clubs, kids running in a tree-ed park, old men walking beside young women walking beside a new citizen walking beside a tourist from Europe who always dreamed of coming to NY... It's just - the most vibrant place I could EVER imagine experiencing, even after all my many travels.

And thus - I had to introduce this magical place to my beloved Yeats Valentine. Early, and often. Last week presented this opportunity, as Loveybear (Jeff, for short) had a project @ the UN, and needed to be there for two days. We decided to extend our trip into the weekend - but, as luck (damn the luck! EFF!) would have it, luck went missing that day, and Hurricane Irene rolled in, cutting our trip to a day and 1/2, as we had to catch one of the last Acela trains back to DC. SAD :-( Nevertheless, we went, and we got one night and one full day to do with what I chose, while Jeff worked. Yeats V has seen the Big Apple for the first time! :-O!!

One of the most magical trips I ever, ever took to NYC was as a child. In 8th grade - when rugby shirts & slouchy socks from Britches were in, and so was rolling the ankles of light-colored jeans [shudder to think!] - we went to NYC for the Thanksgiving holiday. We had front row "seats" on a key sidewalk to watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade IN PERSON (a dream at 13-years-old!), and we stayed at the beautiful, storied Waldorf Astoria Hotel. My twin sister, Tyler, and I got our own room - which was really the sh*t, is how I felt at the time, and I cannot tell you the love I felt for this city during that experience. I still think of that trip and how lucky we were to go there, to have that experience, to see that parade in person, and to stay at that gorgeous establishment. File this under "things I do not take for granted from my childhood."

And so, this is where we stayed for Yeats Valentine's first trip up - the Waldorf. And again, it was lovely. They have the same pine-scented soap they had when I was a child, and as such, my olfactory & memory senses were in overdrive. The W has the zen feel, but this trip was an Introduction :) and so we had to go old school.

Taking the train to NYC is an experience all to it's own, and we LOVED it. I thought I'd read my book on the way up, but instead, looked out the window for the better part of the ride. Small towns, shanty-towns (hello, Baltimore's inner city...wow!), tiny, pretty little on-the-water towns, dilapidated mills and factories, farms, rivers, and so on. I just love getting to see a tiny bit of Americana on the way to the big city :) I tried to point things out to YV as we went along. Sidebar: yes, I know she's 8 1/2 months, & probably won't remember these things, but I want to expose her to everything wonderful & worth knowing about in this great and sometimes scary world, and I am getting started early! My prerogative. :)YV seemed enthralled at first, but I then realized that, b/c of the humidity, she was seeing her reflection on the train windows in an extra enhanced manner, and she was most excited at seeing herself in the now quasi-mirror. ;) I tried!

We had a wonderful day & 1/2. YV got a crib in our room, and I set it up for a while by the window...she looked out at the view from the 22nd floor, and seemed memorized. Everything must seem so big to her, I thought.

Navigating getting around the city by myself with 1.) a baby, 2.) a baby bag, 3.) my pre-req Smartwater, and 4.) a BoB jogging stroller, is just REALLY relaxing, let me tell you. Esp in 90-degree weather. When it's raining. But I digress. I went for a walk and found a random diner, where I sat and had a delish Greek salad with chicken-gyro meat (different and much lighter, of course), and then we (me + baby + all our above accouterments!) grabbed a cab, sans car seat, to the Natural History Museum. Holding my baby in the back of a speeding cab, sans car seat, was...a little intense. But it was also so endearing to me, and one of those things I'll never forget. Mostly b/c I was buckled in, and holding onto YV for dear life, cradling her head and praying we didn't get in an accident. Ahhh, life in the city. :) We made it there and back safe. AMEN.

We had drinks in one of the hotel bars, and then had dinner at Dos Caminos. Delish salsa, but not an amazing Mexican restaurant. I LOVED the tequila and design-your-own marg list, and the vibe was very cool. YV pretty much fell asleep the second we got there. SA-WEET! We made it a fun night, knowing we had to go home at 2 p.m. the next afternoon to escape [

the bitch hurricane] Irene. :)

Sharing these experiences with my sweet girl is absolutely priceless to me. I can't explain it...being able to share these places and people and experiences I so loved with my daughter - and Loveybear (!) - is just one of the most emotionally and personally rewarding experiences of my life, and it just keeps getting better. I am SO thankful to be able to do these things, and it makes all of the juggling of THINGS, and our efforts to expose Yeats to more and more, so rewarding. For us, and hopefully for her as well :)

Can't wait to return to NYC again...soon...for more time! I'm in a New York State of Mind.

Heroes...they are all around us.

In general, I feel like the use of the word HERO has increased exponentially. It used to be that soldiers, police officers, and those in the line of fire were heroes. Now heroes include teachers, those who work with children, those who advocate for the disabled/poor/downtrodden/challenged, Moms and Dads who actively advocate for their kids, residents of New Orleans post-Katrina, the anti-bully at school, blood donors, Oprah Winfrey, etc. Some of these folks ARE heroes. Some are people who rose above a challenge and succeeded. I do think there is a difference. Lately, I feel like I have been moved by news of the acts of heroes who emerged from every day people.

A few weeks ago, Jeff and I went to the Homestead Resort in far-out Virginia for a baby-free weekend away. It was SO nice, as I was able to play golf - which I adore - for the first time since the summer before I became pregnant - so, two summers ago. It was lovely and we had a blast. We had to take a shuttle from the resort to the course we played, and on the way there, we were the only people in the van. I struck up a conversation with our driver. The Homestead is in a rather RURAL mountainous area, where you feel like the resort supports most if not all of the employment in the area. You wonder, looking at what some folks do, how they make ends meat. And then there are the folks heading into the resort, paying $18 for a mint julep, and $400/night for a room. It's such a dichotomy, and to be honest, it wasn't sitting so well for me. So - I strike up this conversation with our driver...I ask about how work is during the winter. He explains he has three jobs...a wife, and two little boys (1, and 2-years-old). I said he must love the stages they're in now, such fun interaction between Dad and his boys... He said his wife also works, but to make it, he leaves for work at 6 a.m. - before the boys are awake - and gets home around 9-10 p.m., after they've gone to bed. He works 6-7 days a week, so it doesn't leave much time to spend with his boys. I said, "that's a shame and I am sure it's hard, I'm sorry." He said it was okay, and that he took solace in the fact that he would always be able to look at his boys and assure them their Daddy worked his butt off FOR THEM to have a better life. I thought that was so selfless - and so true. In the life of those little boys, their Dad - even if not now, but certainly later - is their hero.

On the way back to the resort from the course, with the same driver, we had another couple with us in the van. They were in their mid-50s and on a mini vaca, from Bucks County, PA. We struck up a conversation, and they asked where we lived - we said Arlington, in the DC area, and the gentleman said their nephew lived in Silver Spring, & that DC was a lovely area. I asked what brought their nephew to Silver Spring, assuming he might work for Discovery Communications, which is headquartered there. He responded, "He lost both legs and an arm in Afghanistan and has been there for over a year rehabilitating." I swallowed hard. He had been a medic, specific to SEALS, and there he was, with such a grave injury. I mentioned that I had worked at the Fisher House at Walter Reed (http://www.fisherhouse.org/) as a volunteer many times, and asked if he had been there... His nephew had been there for several months, right when he arrived there from Germany (where all injured soldiers go first before coming back to the States), but was now in the rehab and prosthetic facility. He said his nephew had been married in a small ceremony just before he deployed, and they had planned a big ceremony and reception for after, but - then he was so badly injured. When he arrived back in the States, he told his wife that he understood if his injuries were too severe for her to want to be with him, or take on a life with an amputee who would always need assistance. She refused and said this only made her love him more. OF course, at this point, tears are welling up in my eyes. The man went on to say their families, town(s), churches, and friends had organized dozens of fundraisers to support the couple, and that they are to be married in Nov - in that big ceremony, with a big reception. His nephew's goal is to walk down the aisle without aid, that by then he hopes to have struggled to assimilate to his prosthetic legs (an apparently horribly painful process). He has asked of his mother, should he fall as he is coming down the aisle, that she not make a noise, not cry, and certainly not run to help him; to let him lift himself up and get down the aisle on his own. I cried - I was so moved by this man's strength. This young man, who's life changed in an instant, and who wants to stay in the service to counsel other medics in his position re: what to do if they are injured and how to mentally help soldiers on the field in similar situations.

I said, "this man is such a hero..." And his Uncle said, he is, but that his nephew hates that word. His nephew believes heroes are men that lead them into battle, the doctors who are helping him recover, the soldiers who helped apply the tourniquets to his legs so he wouldn't bleed out. I thought, as I sat there wiping away tears, it's amazing that those who are most deserving of the "hero" title never want to accept it.

I was at a family funeral yesterday at Arlington National Cemetery - a beautiful ceremony to celebrate the life of my grandfather's first cousin, who's husband had been a Col in the Army and who passed on years prior. As we were sitting in the cemetery admin offices, waiting for them to organize our procession, an older woman on the couch next to me started asking questions about Yeats Valentine. She asked if we were the 2 p.m. burial. I said, yes, and she remarked that they were the 3 p.m., and that it was lovely we had so many people there to bury our loved one. They had come in from Boston for the burial, and she was there with just three other family members - her mother, her sister, and her husband. They were there to bury her father, who had been a POW in WWII. I was moved, b/c again, a hero... We had our burial, and as we were in the car leaving, I was telling my Mom about this woman; we drove past a burial off in a plot we were passing...12 soldiers were lined up to a gun salute, and there were just four people under the tent covering a plot...there was this small family from Boston, saying goodbye to their hero. The image was beautiful.

Also in this week, I found out about a friend who's mother had, in 2009, fallen from a tree trying to rescue her cat in icy weather; she fell, and was paralyzed. She is on Medicare, living in a nursing home, lost her home through foreclosure b/c she had lost her job & salary, and my friend is raising money to buy a handicap-accessible van - which are VERY expensive - in order to include her mother in more of her life. This friend had NEVER mentioned this before. She is shouldering much of the stress and emotion of this situation on her own...and taking care of her mother at the same time. There is no doubt she is her mother's hero, and her mother's guardian angel. I feel honored to be her friend.

As we approach the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I watched an in-depth special about the day, and the weeks and efforts following, on the National Geographic channel. If you can catch it - it is worth it. And if you never read the 9/11 Report (I had to for work, but it was obviously an interesting and terrifying read), I suggest it even more. It is important to understand how and why we arrived at that day, at that event. Regardless - much of the program focused on first responders. Not just firefighters - but regular, every day citizens who, despite their own fear, families at home, and shock - selflessly helped others find stairwells, carried the handicapped down countless stairs, helped men from under rubble, etc. It was tremendously moving. These everyday HEROES changed others' lives forever by their selfless acts; not for accolades or congrats, celebration or monetary reward, but - out of the need and want in their hearts to do MORE. Whoever says humanity is decaying has not heard or known of these wonderful people. I pray for all of their families, and for their souls.

What heroes exist in your life? May we thank them for ALL they do.

That sound you hear is the sound of the ball dropping...

Clearly it's been eons since I've been on here. I have, once again, totally dropped the ball on this blog. #majorfail! My goal is to write on this blog often enough that I don't have to preface and/or start each post with "it's been eons since I've been on here." Painful!

It's been five months since I have become a domesticated diva. Errrrrch....I HATE THE TERM "DOMESTICATED DIVA!" So, scratch that. It's been five months since I left my consulting company for the green, lush valleys, and scenic overviews of being a stay-at-home Mom. Now, I do work 10-20 hours a week for a company doing editing, but, for the most part, my bread and butter is taking care of the second love of my life, my heartachingly (new word! Coined it here!) adorable daughter, Yeats Valentine (YV for short).

Life has been interesting since I left consulting. I notice that I am no longer stressed to the gills by things that truly don't matter in life; is my client going to be happy with the proposed changes to the way-ahead on the project; will my client accept the changes I've made to the risk matrix happily; shoot, I have to do my time reporting certification; will I work under 50 hours this week and get at least one non-work-filled evening with my family? The end. ## I mean, this was the every day, the every minute as a consultant. Having YV truly opened my eyes to the fact that - while I LOVE working (read: I love making money!), I do not love living each and every one of my days for government client(s) and I do not LOVE consulting. Sadly, there was a time when I did.

I feel a much greater purpose when I rise every morning - being there to teach my daughter new things and help her discover new places, people, feelings, sounds and so on, PERSONALLY! It is amazing, and the single most rewarding experience I could EVER, ever imagine, without a shadow of a doubt. I feel truly blessed and thankful that I am able to have this option, and it is not a luxury that I take lightly, especially since we have CERTAINLY (!) missed having my salary. I never wanted to be a stay-at-home, and truly, when on my first date with Jeff, my now husband and YV's father (for those in the not-know), I was all but TOTALLY turned off when he mentioned that he hoped that who ever he married would want to be at home with the kids, as he valued that one-on-one interaction as he was growing up. I did not have that, and didn't see that for myself, and so... "WHAT, WHAT?!" I said, in my head (that rhymes). I thought it was such an antiquated and strange and unusual-for-this-day-and-age comment, especially from such a successful and professional man, living in such a forward-thinking city as DC. We had MANY conversations about it as time went on. MANY. I wanted to work full-time when we had kids. Finally, Jeff came around to this. Then I actually HAD A CHILD...this is key, people! I had MY child, and I met her, and the idea that I wouldn't be with her; I wouldn't be the one interacting with her daily, it just didn't sit with me. AT ALL. As in, I had straight-up panic attacks over it during my maternity leave. I want/ed to work, want/ed to make $$$, but - not at the cost of not being my daughters first and best teacher. THIS feeling is DIFFERENT FOR EVERYONE. I preface that emphatically. Each family's circumstances are different, and each Mom has to do what's best for her, given those circumstances, and given what they need to do. I get upset when working Mom's say, "how is being at stay-at-home Mom? I would go CRAZY being at home all day, I need the break, I love having the balance." I get defensive about that, b/c truly, I would like "the balance" too, but - I PERSONALLY (!) felt that, at this time in my daughter's life, my balance was LESS important than her development, and that I would never, ever, ever get this time back - this infancy, this period of getting to watch every single milestone, and ME getting to help YV reach them. It has been a gift from God that I cannot fathom not having.

I did not EVER think I would be the person to say, I want to be a stay-at-home Mom. EVER. And in fact, I still VERY MUCH struggle with those words "stay-at-home Mom." The connotation in my head is: dirty hair, un-showered, pajamas, smells like formula and syrup, tired, overly caffeinated, spiteful, bored, unchallenged, lonely, and on and on. I feel like that's the way that our society paints being a "stay-at-home." And yes, sorry ladies, some women DO fit that mold, sadly. Yet, for me, being this person - a stay-at-home Mom, nothing is farther from the truth. I am busy ALL day long. I wear makeup and dresses and get pedicures and manicures, and read, and learn and feel challenged, and limit myself to 1/2-1 cup of coffee daily, ;) I take long walks, I am in control, I have a LIFE. I am none of the things I thought I'd be if I went to the dark side ;) I am more responsible with money now than I have been my ENTIRE life. This is huge for me... I was a see-and-buy person before, I saw something I wanted, and almost no matter the price, I bought it. $1100 bag? Mine. Now, I am the opposite, b/c I no longer have my salary to do with whatever I want. This is the HARDEST part of being a stay-at-home Mom, definitely. At least for me. But it has also been the most beneficial for me, personally. I worked my A*S off for 11 years, prior to Yeats, and in fact, was on conference calls DURING labor, I was so devoted to my client(s). I got paid well, and not making that money now is...gut-wrenching at times. I do know that's somewhat sad, to care that much about, and to get such a rush from money. But, the flip-side is, being there for YV when she needs me and being the person who affects her and is shaping her more than any other person in the world, has no monetary value...it is priceless. And thus, I KNOW I made the right decision.

This is just my perspective, btw. I have to preface that for the sensitive ones who will take this post personally. It's not about you. It's about me. That's the point of a blog. ;)

Unprecidented Bliss!

Welcome to 2011!!! Today is the last day in January, 2011. So far, it's been a stellar year. Quick update before we get back into the thick of it!

I become a MOM on 10 Dec 2010 - best day of my life thus far. We welcomed our daughter, Yeats Valentine Owen, 7 lbs 13 oz, 21 inches long. She already rules my heart...the queen of my heart, if you want to follow an 80's ballad. :) Her name has caused quite a lot of questions and confusion - how is the name pronounced (Yay-ts, not Yee-ts!), where does it come from, are you really into Valentines Day (uhhh, hell, and no)...and on and on. Yeats: was named after my long-time favorite poet, W.B. Yeats, who I first fell in love with before I could even drive a car. He was an Irish freedom fighter, a Noble Prize winner, and for as long I can remember, his poetry has captivated me. Yeats was the first female name I thought of when we found out we were pregnant, and I always had it in my back pocket - I could just never really imagine, if we had a girl (the sex was a surprise), naming HER anything else. thankfully, Jeff loved it as well, especially b/c it had sentimental value for me. Valentine: is a male Italian first name in my family, going back to the 1800s. I saw it in a family tree several years ago, and thought, wow - how beautiful is that?! I knew it would never work, as it did in Europe and back in the day, with a son, so I knew if we had a girl, we had to use it for a middle name. And thus - Yeats Valentine.

After we became PARENTS (AHHH!), we took really no time at all getting back into the kick of things, and were out and about with Yeats within 2 weeks of her birth. I know a lot of women experience the "baby blues" - I luckily did not in the least, and have been, and am in great spirits :) I am thankful not to be pregnant anymore! The dogs...probably had the baby blues a little, as they had for so long been the SCENE in our house, and suddenly they are slightly relegated to second fiddle, but not too badly, so let's not start playing violins for them, ok? ;)

I had sashimi for the first time in 10 months a week ago... IT WAS HEAVEN! Is that sad? That heaven is raw fish? I mean, it's a little sad, but whatever. It was a great moment, as that's one of my favorite things in the world!!! It was a magical reunion, between me and the raw fish. It's amazing the things you miss/want when you can't have them. I'm sure women in Japan don't take a hiatus from a main staple in their diets while they're pregnant - we Americans are so precautionary. ;-) I was also reunited with a MARTINI this past Saturday...sadly, I was buzzed 1/2 way through it. YEAH, imagine that! I didn't finish it b/c we were headed to Obelisk for dinner and I knew they had a fantastic wine menu...Wine comes first!

We just started seriously collecting wine for our wine collection. Hooooow fuuuun is thiiiis!? We joined the NY Times wine club - which was a first step in starting what will be a sizeable collection as we go forward. I am a HUGE wine lover, but prefer to drink GOOD wine - I mean, at some point, you have to move on from $8-10 bottles of drinkables to something NICE. If I am a snob for saying that, that's fine - I AM a wine snob, it is what it is. We are at that point! I have a wine journal and have been inputting information about the wines we like (and occassionally wines we thought we'd like, and didn't), so that we can let that guide future choices - it's a pretty helpful method. I am a fan of kick-you-in-the-face reds, the kind of reds that white wine drinkers can't drink b/c they're "too red." I also like really steel-fermented whites, really crisp whites that go well with a view of the ocean. If you have any suggestions - LET ME KNOW!

Being home with my sweet, sweet girl the last few months has been unreal - so rewarding, never a dull moment, occassionally overwhelming, definitely not stress-free, and different - very DIFFERENT from working 50+ hours a week in a stressful, client-facing, office environment. It is so strange and different to go from doing everything for yourself, of living a life that revolves around you, your husband, your family - all independent and self-sufficient people and things - to having this little person who is ABSOLUTELY and totally dependent on YOU. As in, you cannot leave this little person for a second...whoa. More than ever, I realize that having a baby is something you have to want 110 percent, and to be READY for. And when those two things are the case, it is THE most rewarding experience you can ever have... I feel SO blessed, and am shocked that I went into having the baby thinking, there is no way in hell I could stay home full time and be with the baby and not work, and now...I am truly struggling with going back to work. I feel like I am in this dream, where I have this incredible person who I am MADLY in love with, and I cannot imagine NOT spending my days with her - missing things she's doing, missing being the one that comforts her when she needs love... I'm really struggling with it, and thankfully, we are figuring out next steps without the pressure of me HAVING to go back to work from a financial standpoint. It's a choice we are going to make, and so, we'll see. In the meantime, I have another month for me to spend wholly being with my precious girl, and I am loving every second. :)

So, we did dinner at Obelisk on Sat night. Obelisk is a casual-looking, upscale Italian restaurant in Dupont in DC. We enjoyed it, but probably wouldn't go back as it wasn't an EXPERIENCE. I always think the best restaurants don't just sell food, they have an ambiance that makes you want to return, educated & interested staff, an experienced and well read sommelier, and exceptional food. Trends, cheese, processed, and stuffy need not apply. Obelisk was...very simplistic inside - we dressed up, and while you can NEVER be overdressed, we definitely out-dressed almost everyone there. For a meal that's $400, seriously, I don't want to wear jeans, and a cashmere sweater. Let's get the class on, kids. So, that's a minus. That being said, I think what they're going for is that casual ease that's found at many of Italy's best restaurants - where you're there for the food and wine, and not for posh decor and chandeliers. Point taken, and I'm moving on. The food was excellent. Suckling pig stuffed with mushrooms and sage, yes, yes. 1999 Brunello di Montalcino!? YES, YES. I had the branzino, with cockles, and brussell sprouts for my entree, and it was GOOD, not great. Jeff got Kobe beef, which was phenominal. We had a LOVELY evening, but for that money, I want the full monty, so we'll prob go somewhere else next time.

I'll be getting back into this on the reg ;) from here on out, so stayed tuned - more to come, and thanks for your patience!! xoxoxo