A bit belated

Thank you for always saying yes to last minute emergency baby sitting, and over night baby sitting, and babysitting for nights out on the town.

Thank you for always being willing to go out to dinner and, more often than not, for picking up the tab.

Thank you for having extra chairs, tables, serving platters, tin foil, saran wrap, Kohls coupons and tools.

Thank you for the recipes to beer cheese, jalapeno dip, hanky panks and tortilla rolls.

Thank you for sharing my love of ice cream, strawberry sour cream cake and white wine spritzers.

Thank you for raising a wonderful, thoughtful, kind, hard working, funny son (actually you probably raised two of those, but I am most thankful for your first born one).

Thank you spoiling my daughters with your attention and your love (and some pretty great toys and cute outfits).

Thanks for always treating me as one of your own daughters with your support, advice, and friendship.

And, thanks, for forgiving me (us) when I (we) remembered your birthday...two days late.  Happy birthday, Patty.

More on that later: Part I

Several weeks before Christmas my brother sent out a link to the top 15 toys to NOT buy your child this holiday season. Most were super ridiculous, rather amusing and a tad insulting. I glanced at them, quietly snickered and deleted the email.

And then I was told that one of those horrid little toys had been bought for Addie. Actually, it turned out both my mother and brother (yes, the same brother who sent the dang email!)thought it was appropriate - and with their tastes, I was wor-ri-ed.


I couldn't figure out which toy it could be.

• Would it be the fish de-boning kit, since she likes sushi so much?
• It could be the homicidal Elmo. She LOOOOOVES Elmo. Please, not a speaking homicidal Elmo.
• No one would buy her the pole dancer doll...would they? Seriously, a pole dancing doll?? SERIOUSLY?
• Oh my god, is it the breast feeding baby doll? Would they really buy her a baby doll to "nurse" knowing how much I struggled?
• They would NOT dare send me, I mean, us the Lil Monkey doll set...I do love African-American babies more than anyone truly knows, but one that is paired with a monkey that can wear the baby's diaper? That is scandalous. Uh, and super offensive.

I fretted. I worried. And thought about how I could return the gift.

All, apparently, very needlessly.
Grammy Kathy got Addie a Cleaning Trolley Set. It comes replete with a vacuum, broom, dust mop, hand broom, dust pan, sponge, spray bottle, bucket and cleaning bowl. It was assembled in minutes, provided some Christmas Eve laughter, and, most importantly, was a HUGE hit on Christmas morning.

Addie, as we well know, is quite the little cleaner. Yes, she is a tornado of a mess too, but she enjoys cleaning up her messes (sometimes). She'll wash walls, vacuum floors, scrub tubs.

She thinks that cleaning is cool (Please, god, let her hang on to this trait. Her parents lack it.)

Since the Cleaning Trolley Set has entered our lives my hall has been vacuumed plenty of times. The kitchen table bench as been sprayed down and scrubbed. The Ikea Poang Chair has been buffed to a high shine. The cat has been dusted. I've been swept.

We are in tip top shape.
Luckily for us, the Cleaning Trolley Set did NOT say (as in my brother's email) "Girls Only".


Hey, who knows, maybe her fastidiousness will rub off on Daddy.



Or, maybe, even Mommy.

The Grandmother Curse

All that hand washing is for naught - another 10 days of amoxicillin has moved into our house.

There has been an alarming trend of Addison being with a Grandma and then getting sick.

Last December we went to pick up Gramma Kathy from the airport for her Christmas visit and poor little lady came down with one of the nastiest rashes I have ever seen. February 2009, we were visiting Gramma Kathy and Addie came down with a cold, a fever and another rash from hell. What an enjoyable flight home.

This past August we spent a few days playing with Papa and Grandma Johnson in Chicago and Addie came home covered in snot and coughing like an emphysema patient. A week later she spent the weekend with Grandma Patty, while we played in New Haven, and came home sounding even worse than her visit with Grandma Johnson, not to mention she had a raised blotchy rash all over. Ooops, turns out she had walking pneumonia.

We dropped her off this Saturday for some quality Grandma Patty time (translate: we had a neighborhood party to attend that had TONS of "grown up juice"). When we picked her up on Sunday morning her nose was practically cemented shut with boogers. She was hacking up a lung, her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were red.

Today our wonderful, adorable doctor (who I wish was my friend and that we went out for wine together) confirmed that, once again, Miss Thang was sick. Ear infection. Yucky throat. Mucusy cold. Ten days of amoxicillin prescribed and a referral to an ENT doctor.

Nope, they don't want to shove tubes in her ears. They would like to rip her tonsils out. Sweet little girl has "kissing tonsils" or almost kissing tonsils. I guess her tonsils are on their way to first base, but just a little shy of making it. Those stinking tonsils cause horrid snoring, occasionally raspy breathing and apparently exacerbate her colds.

While she has inherited my amazing coordination and grace, it seems she has inherited her Dad's lymphatic tissue. Turns out sweet husband of mine had killer tonsils as a child - big enough that they made it hard to understand what he was saying (how hard is it, I ask you, to understand GO!TAR!HEELS!). His were yanked out.

And soon we'll find out if hers will be too.

A is for Apple

When I was growing up almost every fall would be marked by a trip to the apple orchard. In my memory, Mom would cram us (us being anyone in arms' reach) into the orange Oldsmobile or stack us into the minivan and we would drive to Kinderhook, NY.

The orchard we would go to allowed us not only to pick our own apples, but the trees were big enough that we could climb. And believe me, I was quite the tree climber as a kid. Height did not phase me. Bird nest, whatevs. Power lines, no biggie. My brother and I would scramble as high as we could, pick apples off the branches and toss them down to my mom. We would have picnics, gorge ourselves on fresh apple cider, and have rotten apple wars. The orchard we went to allowed dogs, and inevitably our silly mutt, Chemo the wonder pup, would run off and smash deer poop into her ears. Between that and the amount of cider we drank, it was often a bit of a stinky ride home.

However, once we got home it was apple recipes galore. Apple crisp, apple pie, apple sauce, and my fav, apple squares. I love everything about apple picking - the arrival of Autumn, cool air, blue skies, fallen leaves, laughter, family tradition. I love Autumn - I love jeans and long sleeve tees. I love the need for a sweatshirt in the morning. I love the smell of baking apples. And I am trying to impart this love to my little lady.

So, needless to say, I was thrilled to finally take my little Bean apple picking. The orchard we went to had gorgeous views of mountains, fresh apple cider donuts and pumpkins. The trees at the orchard were too small to climb, but that didn't deter us from having a blast. Addie plucked apples off the trees and chucked them into our bag - resulting in tons of bruised apples. The few apples that weren't bruised? Those were licked or bitten into courtesy of our little harvester.

She ran the rows of trees. She scarfed down a cider donut. She picked out a 'mama' and a 'baby' pumpkin. She watched cider ferment. And she, like me, loved it all.

Rah Rah for a GG

I adored my grandparents. My Dad's parents were loud and loving. They spoiled me, as the only granddaughter, with toys and dolls and attention. Gramma always had jell-o pudding pops in the freezer and Grampa gave out huge bear hugs.

My Mom's parents were kind and caring. They loved having us come for visits and would travel 12 hours to come see us, even though my grandfather never shared in the driving. Boo never skimped on cookies or love and Pop Pop always had a pocket full of change for us to visit the corner store with.

My grandparents were nothing short of wonderful in my eyes. I know that they had flaws, and that there were hard times - I've heard the stories. But for me, they were warm and affectionate and made me feel special.

Addison is blessed with amazing grandparents as well. She has grandmothers and a grandfather who think that she is the most precious, smartest, sweetest, sassiest little girl in the world. In their eyes she can run faster, jump higher, hug harder and smile more than any other girl around. It's the right of all grandparents to think their grandchild is the most amazing and it is the right of every grandchild to bask in that kind of adoration.

But Addie has someone that I never had, and I am a bit jealous.

Addie has a great grandma - her GG.

And GG showers her in love and kisses and hugs just as much as her grandparents. GG spoils her rotten with ice cream, and clothes, and purses and toys and books, and lip gloss. And as much as GG loves Addie, Addie loves her GG.

Yesterday, after a delay or two, we finally celebrated GG's 75th birthday. The whole fam damily sloshed on to a yellow school bus and headed down to Great American Ball Park on a rainy Sunday to cheer on the Reds. Addie even wore red shoes to support the team (no worries, she is first and foremost a Cubbie, but she always has her GG's back). The rain came and went and came again.

We cheered. Fireworks went off for a home run or two. Rosie Red came to hangout in our cheering section and most importantly for GG, the Reds won. Addie loved the ballgame, and GG seemed to love having her family at her side.

Not everyone gets to have a GG and I feel blessed not only that Addie has GG, but that we do. She is patient and insightful. She is steady and calm. She is generous and supportive. She makes our lives a little better and she makes Addie's world that much richer.

Gramma's: Part II

Being back home was incredibly relaxing, although it turns out that I definitely have "mom ears" and keep "mom hours", being that I was unable to sleep in past 7:30ish and was usually conking out no later than 11. My mom got up with Addison every morning, but unfortunately that didn't help me sleep in. These days once I am awake, aka once Addison is awake, it is virtually impossible for me to fall back asleep...unless of course I am hung over, then I can muster up the energy and concentration to do it.

It was quite a treat, however, just to lay in bed and watch TV or read, giggling to myself about the poopy diaper I had just avoided changing. Sunday and Monday are a blur to me ~ I think we just hung around the house eating. I know we went out to Teo's for some hot dogs and a beer. Yum. Oh so yum. Andy left for Lowell Monday night and I plotted my shopping for Tuesday. I love you no-tax-on-clothing-Massachusetts.

Sadly, shopping kinda sucked and here's why: 1) Everything I tried on except a few things looked utterly RIDICULOUS on me and reminded me what a lovely muffin top I have. 2) If Addison was in the store with me she incessantly said Mama over and over in varying pitches and tones. To say it was annoying would be a huge understatement. Thankfully Gramma was more than willing to stroll with her outside.

After shopping we had a fabulous time playing at Auntie Bar-ba-ra's house and then feasted on wonderful slouvaki salads with tons of feta...maybe the feta is contributing to my muffin top???

Wednesday we drove down the turnpike to the Holyoke Children's Museum. We were a little apprehensive that the traveling would be too much for Little Miss Needy, but lucky us, she slept there and back. The museum was a surprising hit, and chock full of kids. Note to self: Don't go to a children's museum during school vacation week.

Addison loved playing in the water activity, on a fake ambulance, with the bubbles and with the blocks. She fearlessly climbed a two story climby-thingy (yep, that's the official name of it) and held her own with the big kids. Well, to be fair, she struggled a bit with the snotbags who almost knocked her down at the water activity, but she regained her composure quickly (I, on the other hand, wanted to knock them on their asses, but my mother wouldn't let me.). We finished off our trip to the museum with a ride on the merry-go-round. She loved every second of it, and when it sped up she looked at me and said "whoooooaaaa" and then giggled.

Thursday was spent playing with Auntie Bar-ba-ra, blowing more bubbles, coloring and losing my cell phone (it was found, yesterday, under my mother's stove and is currently en route to Cincinnati). Thursday also introduced us to sick Addison.

Sick Addison is like me when I am hungry - demanding, cranky, unreasonable, moody and slightly ridiculous. Except when I am hungry no one thinks that I'm still kinda cute. Sick Addison was in full blown mode by Friday and was a real treat to travel home with on Saturday.

Friday Addison got to meet my cousin Jay and his fabulous fiancee Sara. Sadly, Sick Addison was still with us and demanding, cranky, unreasonable, moody and ridiculous barely covered the mood she was in. She was so ridiculous that Jay nicknamed this version of her "Baddison" (which I totally LOVE and am going to use from now on). By the night's end, Andy had arrived, as well as Barb and Phil, so Addie perked up a little and showed some love to Jay and Sara...and then coughed herself to sleep.

Saturday we left for Albany with a very unhappy and downright miserable child. Before getting out of town I stopped at CVS to stock up on children's Tylenol and a bitty bottle of Advil for us. Both were needed by the day's end.

After getting through security, Addie stood on a bench and waved bye to Gramma and gave a little wiggle for extra effect. She then gave Andy and I a run for our money during our flight to Midway...lots of tantrums and screaming. I made no eye contact with any other passengers, it would have been too painful. Of course, as if on cue, she fell asleep for the final 20 minutes of our flight.

We then arrived in Midway and enjoyed an unexpected three hour layover thanks to snow in the Windy City. Man, did Addie and I enjoy all 72 round trips we took on the moving sidewalk. BIG FUN. I got to enjoy all 72 round trips because suddenly Daddy wasn't allowed to touch Addie, ONLY MOMMY. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama. Mama...you get the point.

So while our trip home was wonderful, it also introduced me to a new side of my daughter. One who isn't always a ball sunshine and rainbows. Nope, turns out on occasion she can be quite the little thunderstorm. She can be cranky, irrational, needy, demanding, and relentless. And sometimes all she needs is her Mommy.

Turns out she is more like me than I realized.

Gramma's House: Part I

Addison and I are back from our trip to the beautiful Berkshires...and we are, shockingly, in one piece. Our trip started off last Saturday. In the early morning she went to Grandma Patty's so that I could finish the last minute anal retentive things that I feel the need to do before going on vacation.

Yep, I am that person that must clean out the fridge, vacuum, make sure the beds are made and the kitchen is clean. This is one of the many traits that I have inherited from my mother, and one my many traits that Andy does not understand. If I leave on vacation with a messy house, I usually leave crying. The one exception was when we left on our honeymoon, in that instance I left my apartment in such a mess that I am sure my mother's heart would have stopped.


The point being, I did my flight of the bumblebee and then headed to pick up Miss Addie. I knew it wasn't a good sign when Grandma said, "She's just not herself today". I braced myself for a long day.


Addison slept almost all the way to Indianapolis and woke up in a pretty good mood. We made through security, and waited for our plane to board. While waiting Addison tried to make friends with a young woman also boarding the plane - she primarily wanted to be her friend so that she could get a bite of the woman's egg croissant. In all fairness, it looked like a delectable breakfast sandwich.


Unfortunately, our flight to Chicago was FULL. We boarded in group A and still had to slide into an aisle seat next to a very unamused couple. I could read the look on their collective face, and it said, "Oh shit, why us?".
But, really, overall, Addison did well. She sat on my lap or stood between my legs and looked at her books or out the window. Once or twice she tried to touch the tattoos of the woman next to us, but I was able to catch her in the nick of time.


Enter Midway...our layover was just long enough to shove down two hot dogs from Gold Coast Dogs. We boarded a fairly empty plane and managed to get a whole aisle to ourselves. For the majority of this flight she was wonderful. Coloring, watching The Lion King, reading books and looking out the window.
Side note here: on Valentine's Day Southwest offers complimentary vodka cranberry. WHAT? Awesome. I did not partake in one on the first leg of our trip, but rewarded myself with one on the second. That turned out to be a genius idea, being that for the last twenty minutes of the flight Addison went a little cuckoo. After much screaming, crying, thrashing, kicking and blubbering I got her calm for the final descent by having her hunt for kitties in SkyMall. Additional side note: SkyMall has a fair amount of product for cats and many lovely feline photos. I think this stroke of genius was fueled by my lovely vodka cocktail, therefore both of my side notes are pretty darn relevant.


Addison and I got off the plane, she waved buh-bye to the flight attendants and we headed in search of Gramma Kathy.


Addison searched and searched as we walked through the terminal...no Gramma. But when we rounded the corner to go through security, there was Gramma.


And little Miss Thang wiggled out of my arms and ran full speed ahead into the arms of her Gramma...and thus was the perfect beginning of our vacation week.



**Addie went home with Gramma that night and I met Andy at Albany's Club 525 for wine, a fabulous dinner, and a slight hangover the next morning. Thanks, Sean and Ali, for putting up with us, I mean for putting us up.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY GRAMMA!!

Happy Birthday Gramma! I can't wait to see you in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy are packing my stroller so that we can walk along the river...maybe we can share a burger from Billy Goat Tavern?

I can't wait to show you where my piggy toes are and how big I am. I know I am super great at putting my thoughts down in the blog, but sometimes when we talk on the phone I can't tell you everything I want to. But I hope you can at least see how happy your phone calls make me...

I hope you have a fabulous, wonderful, joyous Birthday...I can't wait to see you in 4 days and give you presents and tons of kisses.

(Oh yeah, Mommy and Daddy say Happy Birthday too....and they can't wait to see you either!)