Happy birthday, August!

It hardly seems real that we've already seen a year pass since we first saw this precious face.

The months that followed have been filled with joy and adventure that's impossible to describe.  Thank you, August, for choosing us to be your parents!  We love you more than we can put into words.

 

August's First Christmas

We were so excited to celebrate August's first Christmas this year!  Surely, this will be the first of many pictures in front of the tree, though hopefully it's one of the only years the tree will have to be barricaded from a curious baby.

August was very eager to explore his stocking and test the new shaker Daddy found for him.

Though he was none too pleased to be woken up so early.  I'll never tire of this classic August expression.

Grandma and Grandpa got August a toy that lights up and plays all sorts of great sounds, as well as stacking toys that crash to the ground.  He loves all of it!  He loves the Tigger from Nana and Poppop, too--especially when it plays music and bounces up and down.  Mommy and Daddy wonder if perhaps they're getting paid back somehow this Christmas, what with all the loud toys. :)

Mommy and Daddy got August something to keep both hands very busy.  He mostly loves to push it across the floor.

Both Aunt Heidi and Aunt Cara saw that Auggie's head will stay nice and warm this winter, even if he's not a huge fan of the outdoors just yet.

Merry First Christmas, August!  Thank you for giving us the gift of our beautiful new family this year.  We love you!

Happy Mother's Day!

And, thanks to my dear friend Mary, I'm also reminded that it's "Mothers' Day."

Something tells me my grammar-loving, bleeding-heart mother would appreciate this.  Is is any wonder I love her so?

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

Cleaning up Christmas

We took the tree down today and put away most of the Christmas decorations.  This wasn't nearly as much of a downer it normally is.  There are too many exciting things on the horizon to feel blue.

While I was cleaning, I found our camera and realized I didn't take one picture while my parents were here for a holiday visit.  I suppose that's because we took a break from the touristy things and just had family time at home.

In fact, our time together was so wonderful that I find myself now wishing they were still here.  I'm 31 years old, and I still miss my parents.  When do you get too old to miss Mom and Dad?

Our Christmas Conundrum

The longer we live in Maryland, the more I feel torn between two homes.  Never is that more evident than at Christmas.  Matt and I have spent the last few Christmas mornings in our own house, which is wonderful.  All the while, however, we find ourselves missing our friends and families back in Minnesota.

In other words, part of us sings "Crabs for Christmas"


...while the other part sings "Rusty Chevrolet"


We are a people torn between two Christmases.

Simple Gifts

Dear Santa,

I don't need anything fancy this year.  A few days away from teenagers and in the company of my dear family (both two- and four-legged) is all I really need.

And maybe some new socks.

But that's it.

Good dog

When he's not terrorizing my stuff, Barley loves to help out around the house.  Just this week, he helped me decorate the house for Christmas.

He tested the outside lights to make sure they were all working:

And he warmed up a nice place in the corner for the Christmas tree:

What a good dog.

For the Glory of the Corn

When Matt was in college, he and his Fargo college friends used cans of corn as wagering currency.  It was more fun than just betting a quarter on something.  One of them would make an outlandish claim, and another would simply say, "Can of corn!"

So it made sense when we first moved to Maryland (and brought Matt's family's Thanksgiving bowling tradition with us) that we would also incorporate the can-of-corn wager.  Since I first wrote about this tradition, the illustrious can of corn trophy has passed hands five times. 

This year, the now-expired (and likely botulism-laced) can was won by an exuberant Kris:

...which meant that Austin, last year's winner, had the humiliating duty of handing it off.

It's a good thing we don't take these silly traditions too seriously.

Candy, anyone?

We had no trick-or-treaters last night.  Not one.  Zero.  This left us with just a little bit of leftover candy.

But I swear I heard kids outside.  I thought I even saw a few when I glanced down the street.  So why would no one stop at our house?  Perhaps our welcoming committee had something to do with it.

'Weather' or not, here comes our anniversary

I knew Matt and I were taking a weather gamble when we decided to get married in mid-October in Minnesota.  I told myself not to stress about something I couldn't control.  I calmed myself down by reminding myself that, even if the weather was terrible on our wedding day, we would still have 50 anniversaries to enjoy good weather. 

The week before our wedding was cold and rainy.  But October 15, 2005, was stunning: 70 degrees and sunny.  We couldn't have asked for a more perfect fall day.

Then came the first of those 50 anniversaries.  On our first anniversary, October 15, 2006, we went to Hawaii and were greeted by an earthquake and subsequent power-outage.  The highlight of the island-wide blackout was the several hours we spent sipping Big Gulp margaritas out of paper cups at this Mexican restaurant:

The next three years were much of the same.
October 15, 2007:  Brutal cold snap
October 15, 2008:  Wind, rain and hail
October 15, 2009:  Cold, damp, drizzly and miserable

And now we've come to October 15, 2010.   We're celebrating our fifth anniversary with a weekend getaway, just in time for the massive nor'easter moving its way up the east coast.

A Father's Influence

In honor of Father's Day, I'm sharing just one more story about Coach John Wooden. What stood out to me in this story was the emphasis on where Coach learned those life lessons for which he became famous--his father. You can listen to the story here.

The other thing I love about this story is the emphasis on Coach Wooden as a teacher. We learn our most important life lessons at home from our very first teachers, and I couldn't have hoped for a better set of instructors.

So often, I hear myself saying the maxims for which my own father has become famous. "Is that a Fredism?" Matt asks when I say things like, "Your what hurts?" or "I can't hear a nod." When we're watching a high-scoring baseball game, I say, "This is a real pitchers duel." When we're watching a team from New York play a team from Los Angeles, I cheer for "a power outage." Who can pull for a winner in that match-up? I could go on and on and on...and on.

Keep teaching, Dad, and we'll keep listening, because, as more than one great man has said, "when you're through learning, you're through."

Edited with one more classic Fredism that my dear sister reminded me of: "Don't get into a pissing match with a skunk." Classic Dad.

Valentine's goodies

I've never been huge fans of Valentine's Day. I always thought of it as a holiday fabricated by Hallmark to bridge the commercial gap between Christmas and Easter. But this year, I caught a bit of the Valentine's bug. Thank goodness for crafts and cooking to give me a healthy outlet.

I made Matt a cookie bouquet, complete with a few real flowers for good measure.

Matt and I also tag-teamed on Valentine's Day dinner. We love cooking meals together, so this Hallmark holiday gave us a great excuse to spend some quality time in the kitchen. Matt made some delicious salmon, and I tried my hand at chocolate-covered strawberries.

Hallmark should invent a few more holidays.

Merry Christmas

Our Christmas puppy wishes all our friends and family a happy Christmas and a healthy new year!

But he also kindly asks that you keep it down. He's exhausted.

O Holy What?

In honor of (or perhaps, quite unintentionally, to dishonor) the upcoming holiday, I have to share this update of a Christmas classic.

I hope it brings all of you as much joy as it brought a building full of cranky people, forced to teach sugar-high teenagers for four worthless hours the day before a holiday break.

"A few" packing peanuts

Because most of our friends and family live elsewhere, Matt and I spent a lot of time packing and shipping Christmas presents over the past couple weeks. After a particularly disastrous shipping experience last year, Matt became concerned with shipping safety this year. Add to that the fact that we were shipping some bottles, and he was downright obsessed. He started squirreling away packing peanuts, spare styrofoam, you name it. He urged me to be sure I didn't throw away any packing materials that came our way.

So when a colleague sent an email last week advertising "A few" available packing peanuts, I went to his classroom quickly to claim them. Little did I know that his definition of "a few" was either questionable or intentionally dubious:

Those aren't two huge bags of packing peanuts, but rather one giant bag stuffed inside a smaller bag. Even after we sent packages all over the country...

our bag of packing peanuts didn't look any smaller:

In fact, I think it may have grown.

Santa Fred

First, please note that this post has absolutely nothing to do with 2007's lackluster holiday movie, Fred Claus.

It does, however, have everything to do with my father's inherent potential. Some people were born to do certain things. I've always thought my father was blessed to have three choices:

1. Inspire children to enjoy American history and politics,
2. Mow the lawn at Jerry Garcia's estate just to see how many stoned "Deadheads" would think Jerry was back from the grave, or
3. Work just one or two months out of each year playing Santa Claus.

For years, I was convinced the answer was #1, all the while hoping it would be #2. Looks like #3 wins out, much to the benefit of little children everywhere:

Happy 4th of July!

Though I'm not really sure how the Swedish Chef fits in with American Independence Day (unless it's Muppet commentary on immigration policies; but I digress once again), this video is still a great way to celebrate today's holiday:



May your holiday be further enriched by these gratuitous, yet adorable, photos of Barley in his celebratory attire:

Here's to another year of living in a country that grants us, as Franklin Delano Roosevelt so eloquently put it, "freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, freedom from fear." And as we move through this upcoming year toward our next Independence Day, let us also strive toward another of FDR's mantras: "The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have little."

Cinco de Matto

Last weekend, we held our much-anticipated Cinco de Matto celebration in honor of Matt's 30th birthday. In honor of the occasion, I commissioned our friend Garrett to make a cornhole set with Matt's face on it. Much to my surprise, instead of putting Matt's head on both, Garrett made us a delightful set:


Aside from the cornhole and a boat-load of delicious Mexican food, we were joined by dozens of Matt's wonderful friends...


not to mention several of Matt's other favorite things, from fireworks...


to a very special piñata:




Okay, the piñata experience was more for me. Regardless, happy birthday, Matt!