love, love, love. The biggest day of the year at the Sands house is February 14th. My mother taught me from a very young age that love is something you share unconditionally and often. While I am normally not predisposed to pink hearts and golden arrows, this is the one day each year where my inner child meets up with my "hopeless romantic" self in a shiny sea of red glitter. Nevermind the fact that my own McDreamy is totally vested in my happiness on this day, usually starting with breakfast in bed. I send out LOVE by mail, by hand, and through the house. When it cycles back to me, I soak it all in and use that positive energy to fuel me for months.We sent out our annual Valentine cards. The card this year featured Carson and my Grandmother, who stayed locked in this loving gaze for minutes on end, not a word between them. There are a lot of friends and family who follow our blog, but may not be on the list. If you're not, send me a line. I always design extra so there are plenty to go round. 
The morning of Valentine's Day, I did a scavenger hunt throughout the house with Derek and Ella. Each clue lead them to prizes which alternated between them. They were small but plentiful—Derek found everything from a great bottle of Shiraz to a new issue of Car & Driver. Ella's treats ranged from lipgloss to beaded necklaces. At the end she bounced and clapped, "Mommy!! I just LOVE valentine's day!!" (Another one has joined us, Mimi. Look what you started!)
Since we're on a budget, I brought back some great foreign newspapers from Europe and made a collage. I laminated it and trimmed out templates for passport holders. A little duct tape and a bungee made great gifts for a few treasured friends.
And for Derek and me? I lovely dinner at Meadowlark, then to the Greene to meet some friends. I'm also loving my care package from Mom that included her annual tradition of warm pajamas, body lotion, fuzzy socks and other comforts that we need so much in these cold wintry months. You gotta love love.
Looking back on previous posts, I haven't written much about Carson.
My little man, I want you to remember what a sweet baby you were. When I hug you, you hug back with both arms and pat my back; I have never seen a baby do that. You mirror the expressions of others with an easy smile, and you reflect emotion back to me when I cry. You startle easily and aren't fond of sudden noises...but when music plays, or Ella sings, you smile and screech along with her. You hum when you breastfeed, and screech between bites of baby food because we can't get it to your mouth fast enough. You love Nellie...you think your sister is hilarious...and your favorite place to nap is on your Daddy's chest. We are absolutely smitten.
Now let me remind you of your other side, little Mister. You have radar qualities that lead you to the one tiny speck of something-or-other on the entire carpeted floor. Wherever it is, you will find it, and it will enter your mouth. I wear the same few tees every night, my little Pukahontas, because they are all stained from your massive spitting up. When I get home, I have to hide from you until I have gone through my restroom-and-change-clothes routine, or you will SCREAM at the top of your lungs until I am holding you...then you will grin at me like I am a fool. I have not eaten a hot meal in silence since June 23, because you sit perched in your high chair and scream in my ear until I put you in my lap. Your Dad and I are a bit concerned that this behavior needs to stop before you're in high school, or you'll never get a second date. It's a good thing you're so darn cute. 
My boss called me to her office. "I've asked the Leadership Team to allow you join us on the Europe Trip this year. Can you go?" My heart raced at the thought of spending a week in London and Paris, attending fashion shows and shopping retail with some of my favorite coworkers."Of course I'll go," I said, and I bounced back to my desk. Then it hit me. I would be leaving Derek with our babes for over a week and I'd be gone...not sort of gone, REALLY gone...half way around the world. Too far to get back quickly if something happened. Too far to ship my milk back to Carson. Too far to say goodnight.As I discussed it with Derek that night, he made my decision for me. I told him about it and he said, "Mandie, a week will go faster than you think, and I'll have help. Get on that plane. We'll be fine!"So for the middle two weeks in January, we stocked up for Carson, looked for electric converters, located passports, withdrew money from my Amex at work, loaded Skype on my laptop, and tried to wrap things up at the office (laughable.) They dropped me off at the airport and off I flew, headed for Paris.What I didn't know is that I'd find a love note in the fold of every garment I packed. The entire week, I found drawings from Ella, sweet thoughts from Derek, and even a post-it note with a muddy paw print from Nellie. If only I'd have had a slobbery shoulder from Carson, my whole family could have been there with me.The trip was great...and while I can't really post pics here, I will say that I got to practice a little french, walk amongst the fashion elite, take a thousand pics of the newest fashion and interior trends, and sip steamy chocolate in a little bistro in Paris that was so rich and thick, it came with a dollop of real whipped cream so it could be thinned to drink. We walked 5 or 6 miles a day and worked our tails off, but it was worth every minute.We got home on a Saturday night after a 9 hour flight. I spent Sunday morning in a long yoga session, and the afternoon snuggling in bed with my dearest.
Dorothy had it right: there's no place like home.
