My New Favorite Place

This was how my kitchen looked when we moved in. I did not love it. Not one bit. But over the past few months, with the help of half a dozen people who must love me lots, this kitchen has pretty much become the kitchen of my pintrest dreams. 

This kitchen has become this kitchen.  And boy am I happy about that. There are still a few things that need to be done (curtains, a rug, knobs and pulls), but I am happy as a clam. 

I am so grateful for all the people that helped us- most notably my mom and friend Steve. If you are not best friends with a contractor, I seriously recommend trying to make friends with one asap. Best decision of my life.

It's also been really neat watching Tom learn how to do some of these things. During our many years of renting, neither of us took that much interest in our house. Even though we lived in the same house for nine years, I usually didn't ever plan on staying more than another year at any given point. We didn't completely settle into it. But this house is different in so many ways, not the least of which is the hard work that goes into it. 

I really love this kitchen. I love that Steve started putting in the countertops at 10:30 on the night of my birthday. I love that Gus helped prime the cabinets doors. I loved that I watched my dad and husband work side by side hanging the back splash. I love that my mama is willing to work so tirelessly so that it would be ready in time for my party this past weekend. 

What's next crew? Hardwood floors?

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Arlo Will Be One

One year ago tomorrow, I woke up frustrated and impatient, ready to meet a still unnamed little man who was not yet ready to meet me. I walked up and down the foggy boardwalk, mile after mile, trying to force his little hand. Tom drove me to my ultrasound appointment so they could check on him, two weeks overipe, and I hoped that I was not imagining my contractions. I was hoping he would still come on his own time, hoping that his own time was upon us.

And while they monitored his heartbeat, my water broke and we drove straight to the midwife, and a few short hours later, our big, fat boy was born.

And that boy has brought me so much joy. He has brought me happiness and peace with his rolls and his laughter. He has made our family better just by being with us.

Today, he is 27 lbs. He has 8 teeth. He has been walking for a month. He in enamored with fans. He rarely says words. He waves bye-bye and pats my back when he thinks I am sad. He is a bad sleeper and a good eater.

And he makes my heart explode daily.

Arlo at one month. 

Arlo at 2.

Arlo this summer. 

We'll be celebrating my youngest boy on Sunday, with birthday hats and brunch and a room full of family.

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This Weekend- Prohibition Party

My friend Christina was born on the fiftieth anniversary of the repeal of prohibition. 

This year, for her thirtieth birthday, we celebrated her and legalized drinking 

with plenty of jazz and lots of fringe. It was just what I needed. 

There were men in suspenders playing stringed instruments and there were little boys sliding down stairs. There were oysters and venison and rockfish and so many friends coming together to celebrate Christina, who is as good as you could ever ask for.  She is a loyal friend to me and to my family. She is easy going and kind. She is a year older and it was so good to drink some cocktails in her honor.

A night with friends and dancing did wonders to improve my holiday spirit, even if fear I would sell my soul for a nap right about now. Today there has been some snow, so I guess it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

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Conflicted Christmas

I don't like December much. I don't like the stress and the chaos and the pressure. I like putting up our Christmas tree and I like Christmas carols. I like parties and twinkly lights. But I just want everything to slow down. I want my credit card to stay in my wallet. I want the sugar to stay out of my belly.

I used to hate January and February. They are dark and cold. But now I find myself looking forward to them. Looking forward to bundling up and staying in. Looking forward to cooking big, hearty meals and weekends without plans.

I will try to be jolly and bright and pretend that this is the most wonderful time of the year. I will bake cookies and decorate ginger bread houses and wear lots of red. And I know that I will have fun and I know that I will be enjoying more moments than most months afford. And my kids will, hopefully, be none the wiser about my secret bah humbug attitude.

Because their excitement and enthusiasm remind me that these are fleeting moments. This is the only Christmas season that season is 8 and Gus is 6 and Arlo will turn 1. They won't be so excited to decorate Christmas trees for long. And in the blink of an eye, I'll be back to having a tree that actually has ornaments on the bottom half.

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This Weekend: Bonfires and Goose-Chili

This weekend we celebrated my friend Andrew, an old-fashioned country gentleman, who is now one year older.  We celebrated with goose- chili and bonfires. Gus explored barns full of fox furs, and I watched my Dad shoot skeet. The lines between friends and family were perfectly blurry and faded as we hung out in Andrew's wonderful, old farmhouse. And I completely and totally regretted forgetting my camera at home.

This particular country gentleman is not the birthday boy, but it is worth noting, he is so firmly attached to place that his last name is the same as his town. Now that's country. I've never met a New Yorker with the last name Manhattan. 

It was good to breathe in crisp, wintry air in open fields. And it was even better to come inside to warm my toes and dig into the biggest bowl of guacamole I think I've ever seen. 

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