Maxin' out our library card

Tonight Dave had basketball so I took Edie to our town library. I had some books to drop off, some books on tape to pick up, and the library is just an all around rad place (especially when you're feeling broke-- you can leave with an armful of free goods). First I had to whisk Edie upstairs to the adult section so I could take care of business without her seeing the kiddie floor and going bananas.

Forget browsing with a 1.5yr old. Edie apparently has something against the Dewey decimal system, and showed it by rearranging the New Releases to better suit her tastes. We left the adult section in a state of minor dissarray and hit up the children's floor.

Edie used to love the baby room, which is a fully padded cell, chock full of toys and a beautiful mural. Now that she walks she's graduated (although she rattled the baby room gate as if she were in exile). She loves watching the bigger kids (pretty much everybody, since she's such a pipsqueak), and running around the entire floor, her educational domain. Puppets, and pint-sized ATMs, and kitchens, velcro walls, and toy farms, oh my! At first I tried to contain her but then sat back and let her do her thing.

It's really cool that she understands so much of what we are saying now. She says all done, and touchdown! (Mary Ellen taught her that one), and responds when we ask her to do stuff like get her shoes from the closet. I love watching her try to put them on. Someday soon...

Edie is also very into Sesame Street. I'm not a huge t.v. fan, and definitely do not think t.v. is great for kids. But Sesame is such a quality show with good messages that I can get behind it. She watches maybe two episodes per week, and starts dancing as soon as the music starts. I can't believe some of the characters like Maria, Gordon, and Miles are still on the show; they were on in the early 80s. And they look good! Working on Sesame Street for 27+ years must be good for the soul.

My dad says I need a new blog post

It's pretty funny when my dad says, "I've been trying to read your blog but..." But what Dad? There's nothing new to read?

He's right, so here I blog. I very much enjoy writing and of course I love talking about myself, but I have no time. No time to blog at the end of a long day! Such is the plight of a working mama.

Our trip to Seattle was really very relaxing. The flight was absolutely not relaxing but we spent the six days in between lazing around Dave's parents' home. They keep the thermostat at steady 74 degrees so it felt like a tropical vacation (rain included). Edie slept in every day, and we had no place to be, so we just drank coffee, read the newspaper, played Scrabble on Dave's iPhone, ate Christmas leftovers, read (which I barely do lately), and did some workouts.

At around 4pm Dave and I would kiss Edie goodbye and drive an hour to Seattle. While the grandparents got some 1-on-1 with the girl, Dave and I braved the brutal I-5 rush hour to meet up with friends, buy his-and-hers shoes on sale, drink NW beer, drink NW Americanos, and eat our fare share of Seattle street food. I managed a cranky toddler for a six-hour flight but that Seattle coffee and Rancho Bravo burrito made it worth it.

When we got back to CT, I was so happy that we made it through December. I was done with the junk food fests, the traveling, the shopping, yada yada. However, before I could really slip into recovery mode, we had plans to go to a Patriots game with my family on New Years' Day. New Years Eve is probably my least favorite holiday, and I loved that there was no pressure to go somewhere and do something awesome. We laid low, I had a White Russian (my current cocktail of choice, is that wierd?), and crashed early. The next day we met some aunties and uncles at Kevin's RV at some ungodly early hour. "The Coachmen" was stocked to the gills with beer, food, and Pats fans.

Did I mention this was my first NFL game? As much as I'm sick of the term "bucket list", going to one NFL game was on my list. Dave and I were decked out in long johns, boots, and hats, but the day's 50-degree temps proved us way overdressed. We ate my mom's homemade chili and cornbread, made a mess out of Kitty's ribs, sipped Bloody Mary's, and played bocce in the sunny parking lot. Even the game was great. The Pats won. I know because, for once, I paid attention.

(And Dad, next time you think my blog is stale, check out the archives. Those posts are like a fine wine, or my 11-year old Subaru. They only get better with age.)