Just shy of two months later and she's attempting another blogging reentry.

My lands how I've missed this space.

I think about you all a lot, but every time I try to write I end up like...crying or something. I don't know. These last few months - or let's just call it 2015 - has been TOUGH. But I'm learning about myself as a wife and a mother and as a woman and all that, so I guess it's also been good. But I'm a little tired of learning hard lessons.

Where have we been and what have we done??

I think I left off in April right before we went to watch my dad run Boston. How cool is he?? (And at mile 26!)

My little sister graduated from my old alma mater.

The nephew and niece played their parts admirably.

   

I'm still pregnant. So pregnant. Pregnancy nausea hung on to a ripe 22 weeks, at which point it became very manageable, and now at 27 weeks is totally gone. I'm still a little shell-shocked but so grateful it let up. I also weigh right about what I did when I DELIVERED Jake so...that feels good.

Jacob's work finally started to slow down a bit in May, he's home most days before five and even gets a couple days off every week. This is a far cry better than working till 7 every night 6.5 days a week. We both agree that he's been working too much. He's a contractor, so the more he works the more he makes, and it's hard to say no to work. His work is seasonal, but the busy season (right along with my nausea) hung on about eight weeks longer than expected. So after that experience we were both pretty zonked and ready to life overhaul.

Or at least I was ready to life overhaul. Jacob is more of a "just live" person and I'm more of a "plan to live" person. So I've been reading Charles Duhigg and Gretchen Rubin and imagining all the ways we can paint a deliberate life for ourselves, and he's been shaking his head.

Houston flooded at the end of May. My brother and brother-in-law were stranded in central Houston all night long, homes north of our neighborhood got over a foot of water, and we...slept...woke up to the thunder a few times...and read about it online in the morning.

It looks like we lost our beehive, probably because of the rain. They're queenless, and if they can't manage to hatch a new one soon, we'll lose them. It probably means it's time for us to move. We always lose hives before a move. My brothers, who live with and own this house with us, are under contract on another place, so we're talking about transitioning this house into a rental property.

The kids are growing right along.

Jake turned four last week. We had an Octonauts party, and he loved it. His little friends came over and Jacob played carnie outside letting little people in and out of the treehouse.

I think he requested a Blue Octopod Reef Cake which I translated to a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting decorated with pipe cleaners and toys.

The cake inspired thievery which I took as a compliment.

The cute little girl in the green gingham got the "R" before we could say "make a wish." I have no idea who stole the Octonaut Penguin.

Throwing a four year old's birthday party was much more fun than I expected. He was SO. EXCITED. about everything.  

We bought Jake some big kid legos for his birthday, and now he plays legos all the time. I'm already mourning the day when moving Han Solo's head to an astronaut body no longer holds the magical quiet time charm that it has the past week.

Lucy June is 19 months of talking all the time. She snuggles and hugs and goes right down for naps, and - aside from the full body fits when I take away her beloved chapstick and the 6:05am wake up punctuated with her squeaky morning voice from the crib: "All DONE night night! All DONE sheeping!! Get OUTTA HERE!" - she's still as sweet as ever.

Like so sweet. Like she literally will walk up, wrap her arms around my legs, and say "Hug you wuv you, mama." Since Jake was about three before I got any spontaneous affection, I'm lapping it up. And praying that she doesn't turn on us in adolescence.

And that's mostly our story these days. I really hope summer inspires my blogging game. We shall see. We shall see. 

Old Time Fredericksburg Weekend

We went to Fredericksburg last weekend. Ever since we moved to Houston last summer, we've taken lots of last minute trips to the homeland. I always brace myself a little because I get heartsick for the hill country.

This weekend just happened to be the county fair and the fair parade.

The fair parade was Friday morning. I hadn't been to this parade in over a decade. It's everything you'd want a small town parade to be. Tractors and miniature cars and more tractors and people riding horses and two seater tractors and ostentatious floats and county fair queens with their affected hand waves. Jake loved it. Multiple times since that day he's made me stop everything I'm doing so I can watch him reenact the marching band. Ms. Texas rode by in an open convertible. I didn't know there was such a thing as "Ms. Texas," so I asked my dad if it meant she was married? or something? and he said: "Divorced." A fact which he knew because he - wait for it - delivered her. As in Dr. Dad caught the squirmy little baby that would grow up to be Ms. Texas.

I left the kiddos for the entire afternoon on Friday to go watch one of my oldest friends get married. She wore a flower crown and got married on the steps of the courthouse. I had my first (and last) Michelada at this affair. Color me pansy, but I'll take my beer without tabasco sauce and all my cocktails with extra simple syrup.

Saturday was a slow day at my parents' house. Jake got to ride with my dad in the tractor. I got to follow the crawling baby around while chatting with my mother and overloading on Nespresso. Jacob went to my grandmother's to change a lightbulb for her, and returned approximately three Cribbage games later.

We spent some quality time with my Dad's observation beehive. My parents' turned my brother's old room into a a little bee theater. The observation hive sits in the back corner with a pipe leading out the window that the bees use to enter and exit the hive. The hive is tall with a long glass panel, so you can see the bees at work. For the first time on Saturday, Jacob and I got to see the queen. As she moves around the hive, a little halo of bees moves with her. Carressing her. Cleaning her. Let's hope she's not an introvert.

We went to the fair and the horseraces Saturday afternoon; Nana June came with us because that woman's got some luck. Jake was just big enough to ride the purple motorcycle. We saw the prize produce and managed to avoid buying a funnel cake despite the sweet sweet smell that tempted us all afternoon.

On Sunday we went out to a friend's ranch that has some restored buildings on it, and now Jacob has decided his dream job would be restoring century-old farmhouses. So the next house we buy might be in even worse shape.

So that was our weekend. Nothing like a good weekend update I always say.

Vacationing Part 2: Hawaii

About eight months ago we were in Fredericksburg at my parents' church when some old family friends invited us to join them on their annual trip to their Awesome Oahu Beach House.

I remember it very well because I was standing in the church gym and I was a little distracted because four different people had come up and told me they'd "let Jake have some donut holes, but only two."

So as we got the invite to this Awesome Oahu Beach House, I was doing some math in my head that looked a little like this:

4 x 2 donut holes = Sugar Hell ----> Toddler Meltdown

There I was, in the middle of December, still very postpartum and getting this awesome invitation, and it just didn't quite register. I just kept nodding and smiling. I thought we were in the middle of Pleasant Conversation, not Invite of a Lifetime. And I stood their next to my mother and said something like "Oh, how nice." and then just kept nodding and smiling till Mom was like: "They're asking all of us. The whole family to come with them next summer. To Hawaii. Everybody. You and Jacob and the kids and all of us." And eventually it got through, but the whole yelp and high-five everyone in the building moment had passed, so I stumbled through something like, "OK. Yeah." 

Thankfully they didn't retract the offer despite my less than exuberant RSVP, and then began the months of waiting and planning and Hawaiian Air Mastercards. We decided to tack on St. Louis and Los Angeles to the front end of the trip, so we could get in some much needed visiting before heading to Hawaii. 

We boarded our plane to Hawaii on a Sunday evening, after six whirlwind days of visiting so many dear people, and since it was bedtime o'clock and we'd been going going going for days, I was prepared for a flight from hell. We trekked to the back of the plane, and I glanced up at the lucky man who got the fourth seat in our row. We scooted in with our baby and our snacks and our coloring books and our over excited toddler who couldn't go thirty seconds without talking very loudly about "CRASH LANDING." I gave the gentleman in our row my best apologetic-mom smile, and he smiled back warmly, so I relaxed a little. 

Five minutes into the flight, the man was fast asleep, and I was grateful that we didn't seem to be bothering him at all. Ten minutes into the flight he was snoring. Soon he was snoring loudly with a tiny bit of spittle flapping on his lower lip that threatened to fly at any moment. By this point I just wanted to turn to him and bark: "We get it. You're asleep. That's cool. More than cool. I mean, I basically haven't slept in the past four years and God knows I won't be sleeping on this plane, but you are asleep and that's great and all, but do you have to go and rub it in?!?" So I took some deep breaths, and Jacob reached over from the aisle seat and gave me a simmer down pat on the head, and soon enough we were landing in Honolulu. And soon after that we were overlooking the Pacific from our private deck.

As we expected it was pretty much the best vacation of all time. 

On this vacation we went to the beach. 

 We swam and kayaked and snorkeled in the reef.

We stayed in this amazing house with views like this:

and like this:

We drank adult beverages in the afternoons and listened to the waves crashing on the sea wall.

We played on the lawn which was literally nicer than the carpet in my last apartment.

And then we did that again and again and again.

We also played croquet.

A lot of croquet.

We also played this other game a lot. I don't quite know what this game is called.

Lucy June went from decently mobile to full on crawling.

 When properly incentivized.

 And we were still very much parents even though we were on vacation.

But we were cool parents.

 We also stopped to watch the sunset. Because:

I suppose it's good to be back, but my was it hard to leave.

Sunday Sunday

Tuesday has us leaving on a pretty epic trip which involves multiples destinations, relatives, old friends, and...Oahu, so posting may be a little infrequent at the Good Ole R Log over the next few weeks.

It's been an unusual Sunday. We woke up this morning and decided to hit up the 7:30 Mass at a parish close to us so we could free up the late morning to go watch my brother preach at the historic First Presbyterian Church here in Houston. He's been their college minister for over two years and it was his first time preaching in the main service.

We left the kiddos in the nursery. And true to form, Jake ran gleefully away from his parents to play in the three year old classroom - absolutely no hint of anxiety despite being in a brand new place full of strangers - while Lucy June started fussing the second I dropped her in the "crawling nursery" and managed to get herself expelled by the third song in the worship service. I went back to get her and after hurling her horribly distraught self into my arms, she sniffed twice, exhaled and then was completely fine. Separation anxiety diva if there ever was one.

Jake wasn't like that at all as a baby. He didn't care much who he was with so long as he was they were helping him do whatever he wanted. Lucy June doesn't care so much what she's doing so long as she's with the right person. Me. Me. or um. Me. UNLESS there's a kiddie pool or a power cord involved. She'd probably trade me for constant access to kiddie pool or a good teething session on a power cord. Or maybe not, but it would be a hard decision.

Fifteen minutes of blogging brought to you by constant contact with mom's shins and full access to contraband mega blocks while big brother toy hoarder naps.

Where were we?


Right. First Pres. My big brother preached today and he did. so. well. During the "greet your neighbors" time, I told everyone around me that I was his little sister, and it was everything I could do not to let out a whoop when he was finished. He then came over to our house, and we very ecumenically drank alcohol together.

I hope you've had a lovely Sunday. I'm about to forgive myself for not completing half of my to do list for the day - which included, but was not limited to, finishing up this project, sandal-worthying my toenails, folding two weeks worth of laundry, packing, booking a rental car, loading up our devices with books for my beaching and Jake's airplaning - and continue my rewatch of Band of Brothers with my husband.

On Monday After a Trip

So I didn't post on Friday despite committing to post more regularly. I feel marginally guilty about it. But not really.

I was still at my parents' house and Jacob had gone back to Houston to "work." And I know he was working and not just "working," but when the baby started throwing up on me just as he was leaving us, and when I was walking her fussy self up and down the hallway at 3:30am, and when double diaper duty called in a big way at the crack of dawn, I began to certainly feel like my vacation was really more of a "vacation."

Also on Friday, Jake's "work" of toddlerly discovery involved dumping gravel down the garbage disposal in my parents' sink. So naptime had me fishing rock bits out of the drain while feeling a lot like I was on the fast track to martyrdom when really it was pretty run of the mill parenting. Thirty pieces of granite later, I decided to suppress my natural Martha and rev up my Mary to the tune of a quiet cappuccino and a quiet blogging session in the quiet.

And then the baby woke up.

So no post was mine on Friday.

You care. I know. That's why I told you.

We also shot skeet.



Or we watched with awe in our knickers.



Or Jake did. Not *we* so much.



Now I'm back to the essential work of putting holds on my entire summer reading list. Though with the kinds of queues I'm running into with Houston Public Library, I might be enjoying my beach reads next summer.

Easter 2014 + a Link Up

Saturday afternoon found us breaking out the turmeric and boiling down the blueberries to dye some eggs. They weren't quite as cool as last year's because I was too lazy to go buy a beet, but they did the job.



We had some multigenerational cookin in the kitchen.



And though my sausage and egg casserole was decadent and delicious, the real hit of the day was the swing Jacob made.

We got some quality time and kodak moments with



our neighbor Frankie.



Jake played most of the morning in Frankie's yard but eventually got interested in our party.



The toddler seemed to like the egg hunt





and the baby was generally content to be held the livelong day.

Our Easter was bright and filled with family and sangria.

And I'll go ahead and seize the momentum of this blog post to Answer Me This with Kendra. This week's preguntas:

1. What did your famly wear to Mass on Easter Sunday.

See above for various glimpses of our Easter finery. I'm very bad at getting any type of formal shots together. I'm much more of a candid photo over a formal photo kind of a girl, but I also recognize that photos of the entire family just don't happen naturally, so I think I'm going to have to start orchestrating them.

2. Easter bunny: thumbs up or thumbs down?

I'm going to give a very apathetic thumbs down on this one. The Easter bunny didn't really play a part of my childhood, maybe this deprived me of magical moments and rich memories, but...oh well...I didn't even mention him (her?) all day.

3. Do you prefer to celebrate holidays at your own house or someone else's house.

We hosted Easter for my family here in Houston. It was my first experience hosting my mother for a holiday. I didn't really think about it at the time, but I suppose that's kind of monumental right?

We are still traveling for holidays generally. I expect to host more and more holidays as the children get bigger in mass and quantity.

4. What's your favorite kind of candy?

I don't really like most candy enough to eat it. Except chocolate. But that habit is hard to sustain because as I get older my chocolate preferences are getting more and more expensive. Like THIS STUFF. Deli$h.

5. Do you like video games?

I can get addicted to video games very easily. I was in a Candy Crush hole last summer. Jacob would get so mad when he would find me playing it when we were packing for the move. Until he got sucked in himself. Then I started getting annoyed whenever I would find him playing it. Double standard much?

Video games were a source of SO MANY fights between my siblings and me growing up that I'm gonna say no, I don't like video games. We'll see how long I can keep them out of my house.

6. Do you speak another language?

Spanish and Italian.

My childhood nanny/housekeeper was Guatemalan, so we got a lot of "Vamanos!!! Zapatos!!!!" growing up.

I minored in Italian, studied abroad in Rome, and then lived in Italy after college. So my Italian is really good. Pour me too much vino rosso sometime and I'll let you hear it.

There you have it, friends. Sigh. I wish I blogged more. I miss it when I don't. But my six month old is clingy and teething and is entrenched in a lovely phase called "I won't sleep if I don't have two hands and one foot on your person, mom" and I can't juggle blogging under these circumstances...someday perhaps.

I'm dashing down this blog post while Jake is singing her some Raffi songs, but Baby Beluga is ending now and my post as two parts mother and one party baby-perch is calling.