Friday, November 21, 2014

Crunchy on top, cheesy inside

Behold! A recipe :) Happy Friday.

Cooking has always been a respite for me -- chopping veggies is as meditative as yoga. At least it was in a previously life. Cooking has evolved into a one-handed balancing act while I attempt chop, stir and assemble all with a baby on my hip. Some of Malia's favorite toys happen to be kitchen utensils, and I love that she's already "play cooking" with mixing bowls and spoons.

Needless to say, the meals that I manage to create these days are super easy and fast. Unless I have an extra pair of eyes and hands to help me with the babe, I'm no longer whipping up detailed recipes requiring multiple steps and ingredients. Thankfully, my baby is an eater. I don't normally cook anything especially for her. She eats what we eat, and to this point we've had great success. Tuli is also benefiting from this new routine of family dinners, as he inevitably eats as much off the floor as Malia gets into her mouth.

I've always tried to eat healthy, but now that I'm responsible for another human's health and well being, I have felt the need to step it up a bit. Not that the following recipe is super healthy -- cheese and pasta -- it does have the hidden ingredient of cauliflower for those picky eaters out there. The great thing about this mac an cheese is it can be eaten straight away or baked, plus you boil the pasta and cauliflower together so you can literally have it thrown together in the time it takes you to boil the noodles.

I used our family's favorite cheese EVER: cougar gold from the WSU Creamery in Pullman. I'm sure I've gushed about this cheese before, but in all honesty, it is one of the best cheeses on the planet. It's a sharp cheddar that gets better with age, makes fantastic cheesy eggs, and is impossible to stop eating. My kid sees the can come out of the fridge and starts drooling. Pavlov's dog theory is real.

You could use any sharp cheddar -- Tillamook makes a fantastic sharp cheddar that would be a close second. As with most of my recipes, you can use whatever you have on hand. I had some cream cheese and parmesan so I threw those in too. Sour cream would be great too. Milk or half and half. You get the idea, this recipe is versatile, fast and yummy.

This unassuming can tricks unknowing consumers into believing this is just canned cheese.
The name is accurate, it really is gold.

It took all of my willpower not to nibble my way through this pile of goodness.

I used whole wheat pasta so the cauliflower doesn't blend in quite as well had I used regular pasta. The cauliflower adds an additional layer of creaminess. I don't know if I'll ever make plain ol' mac and cheese again.

I had extras so I took a dish over to my neighbor who I've adopted as my own. She's ninety four and nearly done with her second round of chemo. She's fantastically brave and sassy, so much like my grandmothers. I love her and so does Malia. I feed her every chance I get.

Crunchy salad with apples, candied walnuts and manchego. 

Crunchy on top, cheesy inside. Kind of like me.

See those eyes? Those are eyes begging for more cougar gold.

Baked Cauliflower Mac and Cheese

1 head cauliflower, core removed
1 box elbow noodles, or any fun shape
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tbs dijon mustard
2 cups cream, half and half or milk (whatever you have on hand or combination)
2 - 3 cups sharp cheese (again, whatever you have)
breadcrumbs
thyme
salt and pepper
olive oil

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Boil pasta and cauliflower in the same pot following the directions on the box. Meanwhile shred cheese and grease a baking dish. Before draining pasta/cauliflower, reserve some of the cooking liquid. In the same pot you boiled the pasta/cauliflower, add the milk/cream, mustard and garlic. Simmer over low heat. Gradually add the cheese, stirring to melt. Add the cauliflower and pasta to the pot, breaking up the cauliflower into bite size chunks. Stir well to combine. Add a little pasta water if it needs a little more liquid. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Carefully pour into the prepared dish, sprinkle with the breadcrumbs, a little thyme and a bit more cheese. Dribble a little olive oil top, as well. Bake for about 40 minutes or until bubbly.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

A year in the making

As with everything on the site, this post is overdue. I've been writing this in my head over the past year -- in the rocking chair while I nurse Malia to sleep each nap/night, in bed when I can't sleep, in the shower (when I am able to sneak one in).  Every quiet, hushed moment I've had the past year, I've been making notes. This post could be long, very long, so this is the abbreviated version.

Becoming a parent has been no joke. The Great Samoan Hunter and I have laughed at those couples who decide to make a baby as the last ditch effort to save their marriages. As amazing, miraculous and enriching having a baby is, it is also the most harrowing, testing and turbulent enterprise I've ever undertaken.

Our dramatic lifestyle shift from the country to the city provided me, my husband, our dog, our marriage, our grocery shopping bill with a host of new opportunities, the good, the bad and the expensive. I no longer have to drive forty-five minutes to the grocery store and Tuli no longer runs free for miles chasing birds out the front door. The Great Samoan Hunter now works 8 - 5, Monday through Friday with holidays off and even earns, wait for it, comp time. I work from home now. Translation: I furiously try to research, interview, transcribe, write and edit between naps, housework and life. For those of you who knew us in a previous life, the fabric of our careers looks nothing like it did a year ago. For that matter, the fabric of our lives resembles nothing of that life on the River.

I can sum up the past two years in a few words. We got married, my husband shot me, I spent the winter healing (gained a few extra baby-making-carrying pounds), we went on our delayed honeymoon in the land of coconut milk and honey where we, um, made a baby, we worked a final season at the Lodge, we moved to Boise, three weeks later we had a baby.

The purpose of this post, said baby.

Scan the Internet or social media and there are myriad blogs, websites, experts, parents, doctors and idiots inundating consumers (me, the new mom) with advice. Over the past year, I have devoured everything I can get my hands on in an attempt to better understand X topic (why can't I figure out this f*ng latch, OMG she has reflux, colic, lactose intolerance, why is she waking up every forty-five minutes, why is she sleeping so much, which diaper cream is best, should I use diaper cream, crying it out, cosleeping, baby carrying, teething, making homemade baby food, early reading?). You get the idea.

I follow all of these moms on Instagram and Pinterest who I both love and hate because they inspire me while at the same time making me super insecure. What I've finally realized and come to accept after a year of comparisons is that as the mom of my own toddling one year old, I am pretty pleased with how we're doing thus far.

Having a child has been the best learning experience for me, and those lessons began before she even took her first breath. However long-winded and meandering my thoughts, the purpose of this post is to celebrate my girl and share a few of the incredible lessons she's taught me, of which I try to remember and act upon each day.

Don't have expectations. I planned a natural, peaceful, seamless, vaginal delivery without drugs or drama. My delivery was high intensity, pain, emotion and drama. Malia made it very clear, very early that despite my wishes to be in control of every situation, I am not the driver of this car.

Getting shot taught me that life changes in an instant. Having a baby reinforced that. Of everything I've learned since this little person entered my life is the appreciation (and fear, to be honest) that it could all evaporate tomorrow. Sure there are moments when I find myself biting my lip in frustration, questioning myself as my mom and apologizing to Malia and everyone around me for my impatience. I try not to let my neurosis get the better of me because my days are so much more enjoyable when I step away from the computer, the dishwasher, the laundry and play with my girl. I tell myself daily, she will never be this little again. And I want to sob.

I'm as much the student as I am the teacher. One gem I've garnered from the attachment parenting philosophy is that I'm not here to force my routine on Malia. Rather, I need to work around what works best for her. Some parents may think I'm coo coo, but our days truly ebb and flow based on her rhythm. That's not to say we don't have routines, do you think I'd be writing this if we didn't have some structure? But learning to give up some control and allow my little person to be just that a creative, independent, confident little person has been a joy. She is my leader just as much as I'm her grasshopper.

It really does take a village. Malia has an army of people who love her. Few things make me happier than knowing she is supported from every angle. I love that we/she can reach out to all of our/her friends, family, neighbors when we/she needs something, anything. You really can't have too many people love your kid.

On that note, I never dreamed I could love someone/something like I do Malia. It's really impossible to put into words a parent's love for a child, and everyone tells you how profound it is. Before I had Malia, I thought I loved my dog. No, it's totally not the same. Sorry Tuli. This little baby who is now very much a toddler has transformed me into a more patient, more hopeful, more selfless, quicker bather/pee-er/groceryshopper/dishwasher-loader/typer girl turned mother.

That's just it, Malia has turned me into a mother. I am forever grateful for that opportunity. I love you so very much. Happy birthday, lovie.



Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Loved baby

I am broken record -- time is going too fast.  I feel I was just on here yesterday posting Malia's five month update. Somehow my tiny, quiet, sleepy infant has morphed into a baby.This past month has been exciting with lots of catching up with family and friends, Malia's first plane ride and a baby who desperately wants to move.

We rented a house in Florida with the Great Samoan Hunter's family. It was the first time we had all been together since our wedding. Needless to say, the little girls don't look like this anymore:



Malia watched every move these two made, and since our return, she thinks she's a big lady like them. It was incredible having the family together. We are all scattered across the globe, sadly. Someone needs to invest in a teleporting machine so we can get together more often.  

We also caught up with some dear friends who recently had a baby boy. My ovaries let out a yelp when I snuggled his fuzzy little head. The post traumatic stress from the first six weeks of new motherhood has clearly evaporated. 

Malia's personality has really started to show the past month. She has giggling and squealing down pat, in addition to ear-piercing screaming. She also is my little yoga protege, as she has mastered plank, updog, bow, happy baby! She sits like a champ, and she's rolling like crazy.  She's also on the verge of crawling. Sitting still is not really an option anymore.

She has TWO teeth and loves to bite me. She's drawn significant blood once and thinks it's hilarious when she bites me. I am working diligently to squash this behavior, because once she has top teeth I am in deep trouble.

She drools her body weight daily. We joke that she must be dehydrated with the amount of liquid that comes out of her mouth. The top teeth are coming.  Shutter.

She's started solid foods. So far all we've tried are bananas, sweet potatoes and squash. She seems to think it's okay. She seems to be more interested in whatever we have on our plates, which I understand. Soon enough she'll graduate to finger foods and Tuli will be the happiest dog on the block.  

She loves her bouncer and her car (scooter thing-a-ma-jig). She has only figured out how to go backwards. She magnetically scoots to houseplants where she proceeds to pull off all of the leaves. I swear she goes forward when I have my back to her. A number of friends have warned us about the various bookshelves, plants, decorations, etc that we have scattered around the house. Those all have to go, they said.  Yeah I've got time, I said.  We are no longer in the I-have-an-immobile-baby-in-the-house-stage.  Houston, we have a mover.

She is napping WAY better. Like two naps a day, almost every day. Sometimes for THREE hours. Can you sense my enthusiasm? Napping baby = happy mom. Nighttime sleeping is not as great, but we are working on it. I figure I agreed to lack of sleep when I decided to take on this new role as Malia's mother.  

She loves stroller rides. She loves riding in the baby carrier. She loves being tickled.  She loves cell phones, tv remotes, ipads.  She loves to put EVERYTHING in her mouth.  She loves paper -- loves tearing it, crinkling it, and you guessed it, putting it in her mouth. 

She has faces for days. She is so animated and happy. She smiles at everyone including the checker at the grocery store, the neighbors, the dog, the cat, the ceiling fan, the mirror, her sippy cup, especially her daddy, her grandparents and aunties. She loves smiling. Smiling is her favorite. 

She gets more awesome every day. Seriously, I don't know how I could love her more than I did yesterday but it happens every day. I am nuts about this little person.  

I can only imagine what the next month has in store. I get a lump in the back of my throat when I see how big and capable she has become (believe me I am well aware that's she's only six months old). I still sneak her into bed when she wakes up in the night rather than putting her back in her crib. She will never be this little again. I lay in bed and stare at her little cherub face, her rosebud lips. She often stretches both arms out, one hand resting on her dad and the other on me. I love watching her little belly rise as she breaths her sweet milk breath. Waking up next to her sleepy, smiling face is such a blessing. This life I've been given is the best. The. Best.  

Sweet Malia Grace, I love you.  Happy six months!



Click the upper left corner for tunes :)

Friday, March 21, 2014

Are you mama's bird or mama's baby?!

I realize that it's been four week since I've written. I thought blogging was tough to squeeze in with a demanding job. HA! My appreciation for time grows exponentially daily. The past month has been exciting in our house. The Great Samoan Hunter started a new job, one that he waited very patiently for. While we are thrilled he landed a job that is fulfilling, we miss him very much around here. I've spent more time with him in the last several months than I have since we started dating, and we still like each other.

It's been incredible getting to know our baby together. Malia has had a unique four months exclusively with her parents. It feels like yesterday we brought a tiny little infant home who did a lot of sleeping and eating. That little infant has morphed into a squealing, giggling, delightful little baby who now smiles with such joy at her daddy when walks in the door. I know she would smile at him because he is her dad. However, I am confident that smile twinkles like it does because she's seen him from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to sleep for the past four and half months. Lucky girl.

Now Baby M and I spend our days together just the two of us (three including Tuli, poor neglected guy!). We're settling into a groove of naps (most days), chores, errands, and walks.  I picked up a freelance writing job, which has been great fun writing for $$$! Needless to say, the poor blog has landed in the same category as my yoga practice -- back burner. I write blog posts in my head as I rock her to sleep each night. They are super entertaining! Maybe one day I'll get around to actually publishing them.

Today our girl celebrates her twenty week birthday. I fall more in love with her every day. My little human is a giggling , neck nuzzling, hugging, squealing, eating!, teeth growing baby! She has become interactive with an array of sounds she uses to communicate her moods, needs, wishes, secrets. Each morning she tells me what I like to think are her dreams from the previous nights. She whispers with breathy little coos that are the most charming sounds. This same baby is capable of making bird-like squawks and squeals. I often tease her, "are you mama's bird or mama's baby." Baby, silly.

This past weekend was big!  Her first tooth erupted out of her pink baby gums. That sharp white tooth was disruptive for everyone, particularly for grandma who watched her for the first time while I got a much needed and much appreciated massage (thanks Jules!). She cried while I was gone. This child rarely cries. I thought she cried because she missed me, but it turns out she was teething. We saw this coming, as the past month we've all been covered in gallons of sweet baby drool.

With teeth comes eating. She tasted her first bit of rice cereal and is totally hooked. In fact, I feel guilty eating in front of her now because she looks at me like where's my egg salad sandwich mom? There's no going back now. She landed in the right family -- we're eaters.

More about Miss M:

We've transitioned from bassinet to crib. The Great Samoan Hunter was starting to wonder why we paid for that fancy bed. It took a few nights, but she seems to be enjoying her space. She's not quite sleeping through the night yet. She usually wakes up between four and six, at which time I sneak her into bed with us. There's nothing greater than waking up next to her smiling face.

She's learned to scoot -- backwards/sideways! I place her in the middle of her mat surrounded by her animal friends, which entertains her for a moment, and then the independent little Miss starts to scoot backwards. She moved about four feet yesterday, as was evident by the trail of drool.

Bath time is still the greatest. Well, perhaps daddy's arrival home is the greatest.

Teething hurts. When I say my baby rarely cries, I am serious. She cries occasionally in her car seat or when she's super tired or hungry. I heard sad cries I've never heard before, which broke my heart.  I am sure there will be many more helpless parenting moments like that one to come. Boo.

She and Tuli are becoming increasingly interested in each other. At first he completely ignored her, leaving the room when she fussed. He now sits next to her when she plays on the floor, often licking her face (sweet milk breath!). She seems to like the feel of his fur, patting him with her little open hands. She already gravitates towards his face/ear/eyes. One day soon they will be the best of friends.

She's discovered her toes, she's nearly rolling from her back to her tummy, she's mastered upward dog and superman, and she's in the 90 percentile for height! This little person wants to move so desperately.

Malia loves her family. She's really recognizing faces/people. It's magic to watch her light up when she sees her aunties and her grandparents. We are travelling to Florida soon to meet up with the Great Samoan Hunter's family, and I can't wait for them to meet Malia. We're long overdue for some loving!

I'll stop myself here, as I could clearly spout for days about this girl. Month four has been exciting with lots of changes. I'm certain the next month will bring many more milestones and memories. I'll be sure to post some pics of our Florida adventures when we get home! xoH

Establishing good oral health habits early :)

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Sixteen week river dancer

Twelve weeks has come and gone and I'm already late on my sixteen week update!  We spent the weekend in northern Idaho with Heather and Nick.  The Great Samoan Hunter has been bitten by the steelhead bug. He ties wildly colorful flies that look like art pieces to lure the willy creatures into his grasp.  He's has landed one this season, which was a day as exciting as Malia's birth for him, but his fever has not abated.  He and Nick spent sun up to sun down in the drizzly cold weather while Heather and Malia ate ice cream at the WSU creamer, snuggled up to watch Pretty Woman, and baked. Yes, we baked pies.  From scratch. Crusts even. More on that later.

Alas, our road trip waylaid my update on our sweet girl.  She's snuggled into our bed right now, cozy in the covers, her little hands tucked under her face. I'm hoping to finish this post and my coffee before she joins us for the day. 

At sixteen weeks old, Miss Malia already thinks she's a big lady. One of her favorite activities is to stand and squat and stand and squat.  She stomps her legs like she's a river dancer.  If you try to place her on her bum she straightens her legs and stiffens up.  This child is freakishly strong!  She clearly has her father's endurance and strength because I get winded just watching her.

Bath time is Malia's jam.  She loves it.  If I wasn't opposed to the Internet seeing my child's naked body, I would post a video.  (I will gladly share with loved ones so if you would like to see it, please let me know!). She kicks and kicks and kicks and kicks.  And kicks!  There is hardly any water left in her hot pink tub by the time she's finished!  She has this tickled little look on her face that I'm sure comes from moving with the freedom she so desperately wants.  We keep joking that she's going to skip crawling and go straight to walking.  Her little legs want to move!  Bath time is daddy's time, too.  The Great Samoan Hunter bathes her and I gaze over his shoulder as he sings to her, washes her with such delicate care, and Eskimo kisses his baby.  I love that my manly man is such a soft, sweet, loving father.

What else, she's sleeping longer stints, which makes all of us happy (except my rock hard baby feeders). She loves to chew on her giraffe Sophie.  We all get a kick out of the little rubbery sound her gums make.  She's becoming increasingly interested in food.  She watches with great interest as we take bites.  I'm curious if solids are around the corner.  She's enjoying tummy time more and more.  I place a menagerie of animals in front of her and invariably she gravitates towards something non-toy like her burp rag.  I'm becoming keyed into the concept that babies like everything but their own toys.  She's discovered her voice and her giggle and chatters away like she's having a conversation.  Poor kid doesn't have a moment's peace, as I'm constantly narrating my every move.  Looks like she'll be a chatter box just like her mama.

What I'm enjoying right now is she's gets more interactive everyday -- it's less of a one-sided conversation. Baby M gets sweeter and more loving, too.  She snuggles into you when you pick her up. She grasps your arm and neck while holding her.  It's spectacular watching her become a little person!

Everyday I wonder who she looks more like. Some days (most days) I think she is a carbon copy of her dad, but occasionally I get a look that reminds me of myself. I dug out some baby photos of the Great Samoan Hunter and me to compare.  

My food photography has reverted to horribly lit and stylized.  I suppose I am enjoying my new muse too much lately.  I'll have Heather and my pie adventure on soon!

Until then, enjoy the sixteen week slideshow!  Remember, turn on the volume :) Thanks Heather for the cute song inspiration! xo



Wednesday, February 5, 2014

Love big

Having Malia has reinforced how blessed I am to be surrounded by loving family and friends.  One of the primary motivators for our move to the city was to be closer to family.  We even coerced my sister Julia to live with us.  Living in the same city wasn't enough -- we had to be in the same house.  It's been great fun seeing aunts, uncles, and cousins and catching up properly, more than just a quick hello/goodbye.

Since Baby M was born, we've seen my grandparents three times.  That's more than I have seen them in the last three years.  The first time they visited Malia was only three weeks old. I was elated to introduce our girl to her great grandparents. It was pretty incredible watching my Gran snuggle my baby and reminisce about me at that age.  I was at the height of my battle with breastfeeding (this topic deserves its own post), and my poor nipples were wrecked.  My baby-drunk Granny looked at me with such pleasure and said, "I just want to nurse her!" If only she could have, as I would have gladly accepted her offer. It was such a charming, delightful moment, one that will forever be sealed in my memory bank.  

Sunday night as we were cringing watching the Super Bowl with friends, stuffing our faces eating an array of wild game appetizers -- antelope seven layer dip, chukar and pheasant satay, elk teriyaki  -- my attention was drawn away to a family emergency.  My Granny was in the ER. The last several years she's endured horrendous headaches resulting in several surgeries, facial numbness, loss of balance, among other icky side effects.  My beautiful Gran persisted and toughed out the pain with grace, class and bravery.  

We hustled down to the ICU where we met family bedside.  With lots of hugs, tears and prayers we said goodbye.  I watched in awe as my Grandfather said goodbye to his wife of sixty years.  He looked at her with such peace and love knowing full well where she was headed.  When the nurses made the final call that she was gone, he looked up at all of us, smiled and said, "She's just changed her address."  

Baby M now has an army of grandmothers watching over and protecting her.  I am certain that Granny Laree delighted in telling Grandma Joyce all about our sweet baby. Both of my grandmothers loved big. They reminded me each time I saw them, spoke to them or received a letter/email how much I was loved.  I won't be surprised if Malia's first words are I love you, as I tell her all day/night long.  Thanks to those lovely ladies I too love big.

Life is short and fragile.  Love big. xo


                                I love you Gran. xo                                      

Friday, January 24, 2014

Twelve weeks on the planet

It’s amazing how much your life can change in a year.  Last year at this time I was still recovering from a bullet wound.  How insane is that?  I still struggle with the reality of this statement, “My husband shot me . . . in the ass.”   I gained a little weight after the accident, and I was complaining about my new squishiness to a very wise girl friend who replied, “maybe your body’s getting ready for a baby.” Not two weeks later did I discover that I was pregnant.

I actually took the pregnancy tests at my parents’ house.  I wasn't feeling one hundred percent, and my mom suggested that I might be pregnant.  No way, I remember thinking.  However, we did just return from our honeymoon in Samoa – the land of coconut milk and honey and all things fertile.  I remember feeling like I was in trouble when I saw that little plus sign.  You spend years praying you don’t get pregnant (oops, cat’s out the bag. Didn’t wait till I was married), and then when you see that positive test it’s very surreal. The Great Samoan Hunter was on a work trip in San Francisco.  That was quite the phone call.  Honey, I have something to tell you.  Are you sitting down?

The past year flew by, but the past three months truly evaporated before my eyes.  This little human who was once sleepy and sedentary is now fully awake, kicking and grabbing and squealing. We're reminded daily by friends, family, and strangers (those are always entertaining conversations) how fast time flies.  Twelve weeks has passed since my little human made her arrival into our world.  I told the Great Samoan Hunter yesterday that those twelve weeks have been the happiest of my life.  I never fathomed one year ago that my life could be filled with this much love.    

Here's a snippet of what our little love bug is up to:
  • Discovering her voice. Everyday she extends her range, which delights us both.  The changing table seems to be her choice locale for chatting/singing. It's great fun hearing her 'talk' and express different emotions.  
  • Discovering her hands.  She will extend her right hand and S.T.A.R.E.  I wonder if she thinks it will disappear if she looks long enough.  She also loves to eat her hands -- she seems to be after her thumbs, but can't figure out how to isolate them.
  • Smiling for days.  This child smiles with her whole face -- her eyes, her dimples, her eyebrows. Smiling is her favorite.
  • Napping not so much.  We struggle with sleep.  Nighttime is not such a battle.  Catnaps seem to be the rave -- ten minutes here, thirty minutes there.  Occasionally we will get a two or three hour nap, and I seriously don't know what to do with myself.  I go into baby withdrawals and break out in hives. Hello, my name is Hailey, and I am an addict.  I'm addicted to my child.
  • Eating like a champion.  She is Samoan.
  • Playing on her mat. She loves her hanging animal friends and has started batting and grabbing and swiping at them. She's also started scooting herself around on her back from one end to the other. I am not ready for her to be mobile yet, though she desperately wants to move.
  • Delighting all those who are lucky enough to meet her.  
This list could go on for days and days.  It's difficult to write about how much you love your child without overdosing in cliches and cheesy love song lines.  I can't help it, she lights up my life.

I put together a random slideshow of Malia's first twelve months on the planet. I plan to do these updates monthly so family and friends near and far can see her growth.  Notice how the pictures start out really sleepy and then become really smiley.   Be sure to click the upper left hand corner to turn on the music. Last night I previewed the slideshow with the Great Samoan Hunter in bed.  I am pretty sure he teared up too.

Also, here's a video of her playing on her mat last night. Pure delight!


Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Where is the pause button?

I have to make a proclamation. I miss the blog. I miss writing. I miss taking pictures. I am going to try with all my might to post more frequently. I want to be able to look back in one year, five years, ten years and see what we were up to.

I need to hold myself accountable.  Thus, the public announcement.

My excuse (I am full of them), I still have yet to figure out the very tipsy concept of time management with child.  I always thought babies liked to sleep.  My child fights sleeps, naps in particular, like she's being water boarded. When she does nap, I transform into a maniac with my hair on fire.  I rush from one chore to the next -- laundry, dishwasher, sweep our endlessly dirty hardwood floors -- all the while juggling a piece of toast and cup of coffee.  If I manage the time, I shower and maybe brush my teeth.

But You know what? I wouldn't trade these days for anything.  Each day she transforms into a new little person. I swear she wakes up from a nap chubbier and longer with a new sound in her vernacular of coos and chirps.

This weekend we had a few friends over to watch the football games -- boo, hiss -- and at one point we had five little girls under the age of five.  The Great Samoan Hunter looked at me as they scrambled after one another, "guess this is what birthday parties will be like." I love that he has that foresight.

It's been grey and foggy here in the big city.  We spent Christmas at our cabin that is decking out with it's own natural hot spring pool.  Today I am longing to sit in that hot, steamy water.  Baby M loved her first swim.  She's very much a water baby. Bath time is most certainly a highlight of her day and ours.

Here's our water girl and the family swimming at Christmas.



Baby M turns TWELVE WEEKS old on Friday.  Where is the pause button? I strive to be one of those obsessively cute Pinterest moms who tracks her baby's monthly progress.  Any suggestions for fun ideas? 

It's been nearly two hours without my little person.  I must go upstairs and stare at her until she wakes up. xoH