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Archive for November, 2011

Fat & Dreamy

About to slip into a food coma… we had a fabulous first Thanksgiving as a family… Enjoy the photos (too tired to type!)…

flowers from our backyard

first taste of sweet potatoes!

you can't tell here, but they were a hit!

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Merry Thanksgiving from our home to yours!

This Thanksgiving, of course, we are beyond thankful for the most amazing blessing we were given this year, Kenton Albert:

I’m also thankful that I can drink wine with my Thanksgiving dinner. Just bein’ honest.  Last year, the blue eyes above were still forming in my belleh.

We’ll be raising a glass with my parents…

and friends… all at the Dream.  We can’t resist hosting all of the big “firsts” ourselves this year!

Hope you have a wonderful turkey day!

Photos by photographer extraordinaire, Jennifer Radack with O’Grace Photography – we’ll share more soon!

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ohDreamdoh

Got a tweet from a friend today that she spotted my nursery on ohdeedoh!  WHAT?!  She wasn’t lying.  Nope.  See:

Yeah, I KNOW.  Awesome.  Thanks, ohdeedoh for declaring our nursery a “winner.”  We’re humbled and tickled pink.

If you’re visiting from ohdeedoh, welcome!  More posts on the nur-suhr-ray can be found here and the complete budget breakdown (we did it for under $1,000!) is here.

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Dreamaway

*This giveaway is now closed, but you’re more than welcome to keep reading… and subscribing!  The button is right there on the right side of your screen.

‘Tis the season – almost – for giving gifts.  To get into the spirit, we are doing our very first giveaway on Our Dream Foreclosure!  If you’re in the market for a photo book, today is your lucky day.

I have put together so many photo books through Shutterfly, they actually asked me to host a photo book party and sent a bunch of free books to give away to friends.  Apparently, I don’t have as many “real” friends as the good people at Shutterfly think and there are a few extra books – so, those are getting passed along to you, my virtual friends.

Why, yes, that is a baby book of our Bulldog, Bowdoin's first year. What? That's not normal?

That’s just one example of the many books I’ve done.  There’s also a few from our wedding, one of our honeymoon, one from our trip to France, others that we’ve gifted to family and friends – I could go on.  I love pictures – taking them and displaying them.  However, I hate scrapbooking.  Just thinking about that craft-activity conjures up visions of gluey fingers, tiny scraps of paper that need to be vacuumed, photos irreversibly adhered to a page askew, and neck pain from hours bent over an endless pile of 4×6’s.  NO. THANK. YOU.  The neat lines, clear text and limited debris involved with digital books is far too appealing.  I also love the fact that if a book was lost or fell victim to an upended latte – it’s not gone forever – it just needs to be re-ordered.

We have some friends that feel the same way.  So, they came over recently for a BYOL (laptop) soiree and we shared a lovely evening not speaking to each other.  See:

Ok, so there was some conversation – but we were primarily focused on our books.  And drinking wine.  And eating brownies – but I think I ate more brownies than anyone else.  Whatever, I’m breastfeeding – that burns about 4,000 calories a day.  Bring it, brownies.  Speaking of too many brownies, remember when my belly was big?  I updated all of you lovely readers on a weekly basis (archived here).  That became my maternity journal – and that’s the book I was working on that night…

I’m looking forward to having a book of memories of the 41+ weeks I carried my precious Kenton.  It was such a special time and this will be a fantastic keepsake.

GIVEAWAY IS NOW CLOSED – THERE ARE SOME SPEEDY PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO REALLY WANTED PHOTO BOOKS! 🙂

Okay – now on to you and your keepsake!  I have five 8×8 books to give away (that also come with 10 free Christmas cards).  The first five people to respond get them.  Here’s what to do:

  • Subscribe to the blog (See “Follow this Blog” tab in the right column)
  • Comment below (make sure to include your correct email address in the comment form)
  • In your comment, let me know that you’re subscribed AND tell me what you plan to feature in your photobook… your kid? puppy? special trip?

Disclaimer: Shutterfly did not pay me to write this post – they just sent me too many free books and I don’t want them to go to waste.

PS – make sure you include your email address in the comment form – winners will get free codes via email.

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Just thought I’d share a little story… a night in the life…

Seems appropriate for our 100th post (WOW).

On this particular evening, Jason is riding his bike home from work.  He often commutes to work via the bike.

Kenton is learning that this will be his chosen sport.  Or golf.  We’re yuppies and not ashamed to admit it.

However, on this night, my Mr is running late.  So, I’m on my own to watch the babe, feed the babe, get dinner started, feed the dogs, etc.  I’m juggling things pretty well ifIdosaysomyself.  Kenton is hanging out with me in the kitchen, in his Bumbo, while I monitor dinner in the oven.  Then, something catches my eye…

Do you see it?

The river of liquid poo about to spill out of the Bumbo and onto my counter?  Yes, I stopped to take a picture.  What?  Don’t judge.

HaHaHa.  Funny baby poop moment – no biggie!

I scoop up the wee one, still in the Bumbo and rush him over to our guest bathroom and into the tub.  He’s laughing.  All is well.

Dun-dun-DUNNNN

I strip off his poo soaked clothing and hold him as he stands (his favorite trick) in the tub.  I turn on the bath faucet to start rinsing him off.  Like a good momma, letting it warm before I position my poo-covered child underneath it.

Up until this moment, I’ve achieved the dream of every mom in this situation.  I am unmarked by poo.  Clean. My work outfit unstained. I am HANDLING this and doing a damn good job.  I am PROUD.

Then, I hear it.

The familiar ch-chisk of the SHOWER kicking on.

Before I can snap out of my narcissistic proudmommakeeponrolling moment, the babe and I are both drenched in ice cold water.

For the first time ever, my child does something I’ve always wanted him to do – he reaches up for me to hold him – with his bottom lip out as far as possible.  Wailing soon follows – from both of us.

I have no choice (obviously) but to scoop up my poo-drenched baby and squeeze him tight.  The shower-shock cute-face combo was just too much.

I am now marked by poo.  Unclean. My work outfit stained. However, I am HANDLING this and doing a damn good job.  I am kinda grossed out.  JUST BEING HONEST.

Well, now the only other option is a full-on bath.  So, upstairs we go – racing by the kitchen, the oven, the dinner in the oven, and the timer getting dangerously close to it’s end time.

Upstairs, this is routine.  Kenton bathes in the same tub each night – there is no shower.  The knob is already turned to exactly the right degree on the hot side. I fill the whale-shaped infant tub and lower my poo-streaked naked baby into the water.  We both breathe a sigh of relief.

DING-DONG

Ding. Dong. DANG. The Mr is home, at the front door without a key.  (Our garage door was broken – long story.)

YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING.

For a moment, I consider leaving him out there while I finish cleaning the kid.  But, that would not earn me any good wife points and, besides, someone needs to get an already burning meal out of the oven.

So, once again, I scoop up the babe.  Race down the stairs. Open the front door. Look to make sure it’s my husband and not one of Scottsdale’s finest (again, JUST BEING HONEST – he was cycling home in the dark) say, “I’m glad you’re not roadkill. Love you. Bad timing, Dinner. Oven. BURNING.”

Then, with my other team member in the picture, my child becomes poop free, dinner is rescued and all is well.  Except my clothes – but that’s okay.  It’s an excuse to go shopping.

Kenton checks out his dad’s wheels.

I know that’s not the worst poop story.  I have an even better one that involves a public place, a public bathroom floor, and the Ergo carrier.  It’s too dirty for public consumption  TOO DIRTY.  Trust me.  No one who reads this blog would ever have another baby if I shared it.  BUT… I want to read your stories!  Anyone got some good baby poop stories to share?

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