Sunday, August 28, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
10 years of...
Marriage is crazy.
Ella, someday you will find it...and Carson, your blue eyes will certainly foil some lovely girl into thinking you can be tamed.
Two people meet, fall in love, and predict that they will each meander along their paths—and they pray that 30 years from now, these paths will still be parallel. The paths can't be the same, but they can't diverge. Insert arguments and medical bills. Oil changes and house repairs. Dirty laundry and screaming toddlers and nights without sleep.
Dating is sexy; marriage is not. Dating is thrilling, with flirting and first dates and passionate kisses. Marriage is about a deeper love and it's about partnership; sometimes it's about doing what you really don't want to do. Like continuing to wash and fold a certain t-shirt that your dad has been wearing since I met him 12 years ago. I really, really want to light it on fire.
But I don't. And he continues to tighten all the lids in the fridge that I leave half-screwed. And of course, there are deeper challenges; let's say that your daddy and I have made it through thick and thin. Here we are, still in love—and that love has brought us you. That's worth celebrating.
We had 24 hours and a full tank of gas. I called my good friend Bill and asked for his recommendations for a quick trip to Columbus. He laid out some perfect ideas in a matter of minutes.
We started by checking into the Crowne Plaza downtown, then on to the North Market to see fresh flowers, colorful produce, ground coffee, and handmade goods. Every corner flooded our senses with beauty!
Then we walked the Short North Arts District, featuring shops, pubs and galleries that delighted the eye. Derek's favorite painting:
And mine:
Then on to Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream for local, organic handmade flavors like sweet corn, reisling soaked pear, and goat cheese with red cherries. Flavors that sound crazy. Flavors that make you want to squeal with joy, fall to the ground and roll around giggling, right there in their lovely little shop. Yes, it's that good—and worth waiting in the line that's consistently there from 11am to 11pm, full of people who feel the same way about it.
'
The afternoon held more galleries and shops, some delicious microbrews, some downtime in the room, and a lovely late dinner and cocktails at The Rossi.
We slept late the next morning and strolled up to the Northstar Cafe, where we dined al fresco and felt the morning sun on our faces. I sipped my mint ginger ale while Derek read the paper and leaned to the side, slowly crumbling something in his hand near the ground.
"Look down" he whispered slyly, as if we were being watched by spies.
He had surrendered his scone to feed a group of tiny birds. They hopped and pecked about, chirping to one another in celebration of the score.
"I love you, Derek" I shook my head and laughed.
He grinned, turned the page of his paper, and put his hand on mine.
Cheers to 10 more, my love!
Ella, someday you will find it...and Carson, your blue eyes will certainly foil some lovely girl into thinking you can be tamed.
Two people meet, fall in love, and predict that they will each meander along their paths—and they pray that 30 years from now, these paths will still be parallel. The paths can't be the same, but they can't diverge. Insert arguments and medical bills. Oil changes and house repairs. Dirty laundry and screaming toddlers and nights without sleep.
Dating is sexy; marriage is not. Dating is thrilling, with flirting and first dates and passionate kisses. Marriage is about a deeper love and it's about partnership; sometimes it's about doing what you really don't want to do. Like continuing to wash and fold a certain t-shirt that your dad has been wearing since I met him 12 years ago. I really, really want to light it on fire.
But I don't. And he continues to tighten all the lids in the fridge that I leave half-screwed. And of course, there are deeper challenges; let's say that your daddy and I have made it through thick and thin. Here we are, still in love—and that love has brought us you. That's worth celebrating.
We had 24 hours and a full tank of gas. I called my good friend Bill and asked for his recommendations for a quick trip to Columbus. He laid out some perfect ideas in a matter of minutes.
We started by checking into the Crowne Plaza downtown, then on to the North Market to see fresh flowers, colorful produce, ground coffee, and handmade goods. Every corner flooded our senses with beauty!
Then we walked the Short North Arts District, featuring shops, pubs and galleries that delighted the eye. Derek's favorite painting:
And mine:
Then on to Jeni's Splendid Ice Cream for local, organic handmade flavors like sweet corn, reisling soaked pear, and goat cheese with red cherries. Flavors that sound crazy. Flavors that make you want to squeal with joy, fall to the ground and roll around giggling, right there in their lovely little shop. Yes, it's that good—and worth waiting in the line that's consistently there from 11am to 11pm, full of people who feel the same way about it.
'The afternoon held more galleries and shops, some delicious microbrews, some downtime in the room, and a lovely late dinner and cocktails at The Rossi.
We slept late the next morning and strolled up to the Northstar Cafe, where we dined al fresco and felt the morning sun on our faces. I sipped my mint ginger ale while Derek read the paper and leaned to the side, slowly crumbling something in his hand near the ground.
"Look down" he whispered slyly, as if we were being watched by spies.
He had surrendered his scone to feed a group of tiny birds. They hopped and pecked about, chirping to one another in celebration of the score.
"I love you, Derek" I shook my head and laughed.
He grinned, turned the page of his paper, and put his hand on mine.
Cheers to 10 more, my love!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Your dinner plate is not a frisbee.
It's a Tuesday night. I rush in from work at 6...give quick hugs, change my clothes...and start rinsing broccoli without really looking at anyone. Derek joins in for dinner by 6:30.
And...we're off! :
Ella, set the table. No, Carson doesn't get a knife. Sit down please.
Derek. Derek. Derek. Sit down. What are you looking for?
Close your eyes when we pray. Don't pick your nose.
Carson, eat your dinner. Pass the butter. Where is Ella now?
What happened to your napkin? Does anyone realize that Carson is over there eating a pile of ketchup with a spoon? Somebody get a towel.
How was your day? Ella, get your fork out of your drink.
Turn down the TV...or how about OFF? (Who was watching Terminator 2, anyway?)
Carson, don't throw your food. Stop spitting. Eat your dinner.
6 to 8pm is the witching hour - so in the summer, we have this thing every couple of weeks: if we have a night where everyone ingests at least one vegetable, and our only "fast" food is that which has been launched by Carson, then we load up in the car after dinner and head to Dairy Queen.
For $5, we can all tailgate in the back of my Escape—including Nellie Belly—in the parking lot and have a half hour of silence and smiles. There is no table. Or booster seat. There is no "pass the napkins," because there are no drips.
Ah, summer.
And...we're off! :
Ella, set the table. No, Carson doesn't get a knife. Sit down please.
Derek. Derek. Derek. Sit down. What are you looking for?
Close your eyes when we pray. Don't pick your nose.
Carson, eat your dinner. Pass the butter. Where is Ella now?
What happened to your napkin? Does anyone realize that Carson is over there eating a pile of ketchup with a spoon? Somebody get a towel.
How was your day? Ella, get your fork out of your drink.
Turn down the TV...or how about OFF? (Who was watching Terminator 2, anyway?)
Carson, don't throw your food. Stop spitting. Eat your dinner.
6 to 8pm is the witching hour - so in the summer, we have this thing every couple of weeks: if we have a night where everyone ingests at least one vegetable, and our only "fast" food is that which has been launched by Carson, then we load up in the car after dinner and head to Dairy Queen.
For $5, we can all tailgate in the back of my Escape—including Nellie Belly—in the parking lot and have a half hour of silence and smiles. There is no table. Or booster seat. There is no "pass the napkins," because there are no drips.
Ah, summer.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Gulf Shores 2011
Every year, we are treated to a week at the beach with Derek's family - which always means time together at The Lighthouse, seated right on the Gulf of Mexico. The only drawback about a trip like this is the 13 hours in the car, and the insane amount of bags needed for 4 people to fit into a room - along with diapers, pack n play, sippy cups, bedtime stories, and teddy bears. Long gone are the days when we could toss a swimsuit, towel, toothbrush and a couple of tees in a bag and just GO!
On the first day, Ella was named Queen of the Swimming Pool. Carson shared Ella's ambivalence toward the ocean; he seemed convinced that the surf was out to "get" him.
Every afternoon we'd come in from a day in the sun, and Ella would get ready with Grandma and Aunt Andrea - including hot rollers and bubblebaths. It was a six-year-old's dream.
Mid-week...a chance to celebrate a huge milestone for Andrea! We decorated the condo with streamers and signs, and had a party that night after dinner, complete with one very loud party horn and a cake.
Bumpy. Fast. Screaming. Hilarious.
Morning routine: breakfast, magazine or yoga, sunscreen, flip flops, pool. Exhale.
Every day, we'd get in the pool and I'd put his bright orange ear plugs in my ears to show Carson how cool they were. Then he would beg for them. (Gotta love a 2-year-old who falls for it every time.)
But wow, those things are terribly annoying! Yes, they keep the water out of his tubes, but with them in, you truly cannot hear a thing besides the noises in your own head. Scary.
We woke up early on our last day there, dreading the end of our time together. For Chris, it meant starting rotations; for Ella, starting first grade. For Derek, it meant starting his Paramedic program; for Marv and Lynda, impending surgeries. Andrea, Carson and I would go back to our normal routines, with a bit of sun on our faces and sand in our shoes.
For the first time, Ella actually got to benefit from her mother's annoying neurosis regarding food waste (half a can of black beans and some questionable tomatoes? Let's make salsa!)
This time it was an entire gallon of vanilla ice cream. It was 9:30 am and we had to clear the fridge and freezer by 10. I handed Ella and her Grandpa each a spoon and said "you have THIRTY SECONDS to eat as much ice cream as you can!! GO!"
What a trip...and what a perfect time to do absolutely anything or absolutely nothing together. Thank you, Mom and Dad Sands, for bringing us all together for one more week of surf, sun and family fun.
On the first day, Ella was named Queen of the Swimming Pool. Carson shared Ella's ambivalence toward the ocean; he seemed convinced that the surf was out to "get" him.
Every afternoon we'd come in from a day in the sun, and Ella would get ready with Grandma and Aunt Andrea - including hot rollers and bubblebaths. It was a six-year-old's dream.
Mid-week...a chance to celebrate a huge milestone for Andrea! We decorated the condo with streamers and signs, and had a party that night after dinner, complete with one very loud party horn and a cake.
Bumpy. Fast. Screaming. Hilarious.
Morning routine: breakfast, magazine or yoga, sunscreen, flip flops, pool. Exhale.
Every day, we'd get in the pool and I'd put his bright orange ear plugs in my ears to show Carson how cool they were. Then he would beg for them. (Gotta love a 2-year-old who falls for it every time.)
But wow, those things are terribly annoying! Yes, they keep the water out of his tubes, but with them in, you truly cannot hear a thing besides the noises in your own head. Scary.
We woke up early on our last day there, dreading the end of our time together. For Chris, it meant starting rotations; for Ella, starting first grade. For Derek, it meant starting his Paramedic program; for Marv and Lynda, impending surgeries. Andrea, Carson and I would go back to our normal routines, with a bit of sun on our faces and sand in our shoes.
For the first time, Ella actually got to benefit from her mother's annoying neurosis regarding food waste (half a can of black beans and some questionable tomatoes? Let's make salsa!)
This time it was an entire gallon of vanilla ice cream. It was 9:30 am and we had to clear the fridge and freezer by 10. I handed Ella and her Grandpa each a spoon and said "you have THIRTY SECONDS to eat as much ice cream as you can!! GO!"
What a trip...and what a perfect time to do absolutely anything or absolutely nothing together. Thank you, Mom and Dad Sands, for bringing us all together for one more week of surf, sun and family fun.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
