My First Shower (or Why I Finally Joined the Pinterest Movement)

 

Two of Jeff and my best friends are getting married this August (which is a whole story in and of itself--they met when she was the maid of honor and he was the best man at our wedding!). From the day L called to tell me they were engaged, I've been excited to plan her bridal shower. I knew it would be a small affair, and I also knew I wanted to keep it in line with their backyard, low-key, country wedding. But that was about all I knew... I'd never planned a shower of any kind before.

Thanks to a great deal of peer pressure from another one of my best friends, Jenn (who blogs over on The Canadian Housewife), I finally started to explore Pinterest--with a little excitement and a lot more trepidation. However, as I began to create the board for the shower, I realized just how many wonderful, inexpensive, lovely ideas I could find with a quick and simple search. I was hooked!

So, here's the photo tour!

We threw the shower in L's sister's backyard, and she had a lovely side deck that was perfect for our "drinks station." For the favors, I had purchased Mason jars with handles, added cute chalkboard stickers with every guest's name, and popped a pretty floral paper straw in each one. We then filled the table with the glasses and assorted beverages: Pimm's, mimosa makings, assorted non-alcoholic juices, white wine, and water.

Thanks, once again, to Jenn (seriously, she inspired so much of this party--from Canada!), I made colorful tissue paper luminaries to hang. (Jenn did them on her blog here, and this is the link to the Martha Stewart instructions I used.) I alternated white tissue paper with the paper the colors of the shower (green, yellow, and white). Since I had to travel to Baltimore for the shower, I simply did the folding and twist-tie stage ahead of time, then had L's niece poof them out and hang them. She did a great job!

Throughout these photos, you'll see the floral centerpieces. I didn't want to spend a lot of money, so I spent a few weeks collecting tin cans (mostly from some of my favorite slow cooker recipes), then bought a $1 spool of white tulle at the Dollar Store. We tied a pretty bow around each can, then filled them with sunflowers and other simple flowers. The grand total for 6 floral centerpieces? $16!

The majority of the food I ordered from Fresh Market (a sandwich platter, fruit and cheese tray, and cupcakes), but I found this adorable idea on Pinterest and just loved it! Essentially, it's a popcorn bar--you grab a brown paper bag, fill it with plain popcorn, spray on some butter, and then shake on your favorite toppings (I brought cayenne pepper, salt, sugar, and a powdered herb mix). It was great for everyone to snack on as they were mingling at the beginning!

L wasn't big on games, and not everyone brought presents, since she's only registered on Honey Fund. As a result, I wanted a few activities people could do during lulls in the conversation, but nothing formal or organized. In the picture above, you see the "Date Jar"; people wrote cute date ideas on popsicle sticks which L then took home to share with her fiance.

On the drink table, I had a "Memory Vase" where I encouraged people to write down silly or sentimental memories they had of times with L that she could read when she was feeling stressed in the weeks leading up to the wedding.

Finally, I created an "Advice Tree"; I'd cut green poster board into leaf shapes and asked people to write pieces of advice, then attach them to the tree with the clothespins provided.

All in all, I'm quite proud of my first shower! The planning was really fun, but I couldn't have pulled it off without the help from the other bridesmaids who purchased items, set up on the day of the shower, and co-hosted beautifully. And I stayed within my budget goal: the grand total for everything was $300, which was very reasonable when split three ways.

I'm hooked on shower planning! Anyone got an event coming up that I can help out with? ;-)

The Family You Choose

For various reasons, this has been a tough weekend for Jeff and me. We'd planned to attend a wedding in Connecticut tonight, but, as the week drew to a close, it became abundantly clear that the trip just wouldn't work for Lily. Much to our dismay--and the sadness of our friends--we cancelled the trip at the last minute and decided to stay home. And so, while we are desperately missing those friends we love in Connecticut this weekend, we are simultaneously finding ourselves surrounded by such love from a "chosen family" who surrounds us here in Virginia.

The first in that bunch is Lily's godmother, M. Perhaps you remember her from this post when she offered me incredible support in the wake of our first loss? She has been by my side since the beginning of this journey, and watching Lily's little hand grip her finger so tightly is such a joy for me; Lily knows this is someone we need to hang on to!

This group photo is from a festival we attended in town today; it was a last-minute decision (since we only decided to stay home on Thursday night). The picture is tremendously joy-full for Jeff and me. In it, Lily is surrounded by men and women who love her and her parents so deeply. Throughout the afternoon, Lily was "stolen" from us repeatedly--just long enough for Jeff and I to sneak away and get a glass of wine or enjoy a pulled pork sandwich without juggling Lily in the other arm. We have chosen family all over the US and beyond--and we are deeply grateful for all of them--but today we realized just how incredibly blessed we are by this particular group.

It's the eve of Father's Day, which is perhaps even more poignant to me than Mother's Day. When we returned home this evening, Jeff gave Lily her bottle while I put things away, and this is the pair I found upon my return to the living room. I'm not sure who is more contented or more peaceful, but I know that Jeff is marveling that he will hold his little girl in his arms tomorrow, that he will remember his lost children, Blueberry and Beanster, even as he celebrates the one who snuggles with him first thing tomorrow morning.

We are so very, very blessed by the family we choose--and, if you're reading this, it's likely we count you among that number. Our hearts threaten to swell and burst on days like today, and we are in absolute awe of the fact that you all love us so much.

Thank you, for loving Lily and us to such unfathomable depths.

Days, Weeks, Months, Years, Decades...

Wherever we go, I'm asked how old Lily is. My response elicits all kinds of reactions: "Oh my--so tiny!" or "I can hardly remember when mine were that small!" seem most popular. But the question has meant that I've been thinking a lot lately about how time is measured. As we hit the start of summer and look forward to Lily's growth--both physical and mental, I'm also so aware of the dwindling number of days I have at home as just us two before I go back to teaching in the fall. And so, once again, my mind falls to that measurement of time.

Days...

It's hard now to remember back to early February, to recall those sleepless nights in the hospital (right above) or that first trip to the pediatrician (left above), when everything was measured in days (and sometimes in hours). When someone would ask, "How old is she?" and I'd say "four days" and think "what was life like five days ago?" A tiny life measured in such a small amount of time, yet we were so aware of how blessed we were to have held her in our arms for two days, or three, or four.

Weeks...

Lily's life inside me began by being measured in weeks--weeks that began almost a year ago now. When she came out, it was no different; I was so grateful when another Saturday had passed, when she was another week older, when she seemed just a bit less fragile and bit more ready for the world. Each set of seven days inched by ever so slowly, and I was so ready for it to be the next week every time. I think I'm starting to understand now, though, why everyone says that time flies faster than you can ever realize when you're mired deep inside of it.

Months...

After Lily passed twelve weeks old, I realized that counting in weeks no longer mattered and that it truly was the months that marked the passage of time. I began reading books that would tell me what developmental milestones I might see in the next month or how I could help her develop new skills. Now, at nearly four months, it's hard to believe that she's rolling (both ways!), reaching for her toys on her activity mat and pulling them to her, and happily bouncing on her chubby little legs to whatever is playing on the radio as we support her torso. I'm shocked that the months are starting to fly, that I'm having to imagine leaving her for several hours a day when she's just six months old.

Years...

The photo above is from my 35th birthday. We'd lost Blueberry earlier that year, and the age just felt devastating to me, as it's when the medical community classifies a woman as AMA: Advanced Maternal Age. I was supposed to be having a baby at 35, not wondering what treatments would cost and facing a slew of tests and possible surgeries. It felt like such a lost cause that another year had passed without the ability to achieve the one thing I wanted so desperately. (Jeff's surprise of a weekend in southern Virginia and a special chocolate cake certainly improved the memories, though!)

Decades...

On Tuesday, my mum turns 70. She marks the start of a new decade with her granddaughter, with her daughter becoming a mom herself, with watching her husband take on the role of Granddaddy. As I watch my mom age by a decade but be in awe of her granddaughter aging in days, weeks, and months, I can only pray I grow old with such grace, such beauty, and such faith. 

I look forward to the decades to come--and the days, and the weeks, and the months, and the years.

A Family Portrait

Easter 2014

Picture: a painting, drawing, or photograph of someone or something

Portrait: a detailed description of someone or something

Since Lily was born, there have been a ridiculous number of pictures taken of her--on phones, on cameras, and on iPads. We've captured her smiling, screaming, squirming, and squealing. Her sweet face has been posted on blogs and Facebook and has been sent via emails, letters, and texts. We love pictures of Lily--and it seems our friends and families do, too!--but the picture above is something more. The picture above is a portrait.

Taken Easter morning at our church by a very talented church member who is a professional photographer, it's not the pastel colors or Lily's Easter seersucker that catch my eye; instead, it's the joy written all over Jeff and my faces as we snuggle together over Lily's little head. It's her little hand gripping my finger, it's Jeff's chin resting on her soft hair, it's the grouping of the three of us as a family. For me, it's a description of where we've been (for I am, of course, wearing my Blueberry and Beanster necklace) and a hope for where we'll go. It's a reminder that our history is not something to erase even while our present is something to celebrate.

In short, it's our family, and that's an Easter miracle.

Cute as a Button?

This is what most of our days look like lately.

"They" say that 3 months is when babies really start evening out, start developing a schedule, start waking less during the night, but Lily apparently missed that memo. Instead, our sweet-tempered, easily scheduled, all-star nurser has turned into a difficult, unpredictable little screamer who has left her parents exhausted and exceedingly confused. And, while I understand that babies will be babies and that my love of a routine will not translate into Lily actually keeping one, the last couple of weeks have felt, at times, even more challenging than those first two weeks did. Once again, I don't always know how to soothe my daughter, I can't predict when she'll need to nurse or need to nap, and I find myself over-tired, under-nourished, and lacking patience at the end of the day.

I suppose I'm learning what it means to be a mom in these moments, and--while it seems like it will be so much easier when she can tell me what's wrong or entertain herself for a few hours--I know those stages will come with their own challenges, too. Sometimes, it seems like her toughest moments are designed to help me grow in my flexibility with whatever the world throws at me. I'm learning that a screaming baby doesn't surprise the people around me nearly as much as it surprises me, that sympathetic looks from other moms as she wails in the grocery store don't mean they think I'm doing a bad job as a mom but, rather, indicate their empathy for the exhaustion and frustration they can read on my face. I'm also learning to ask for help, to know when I need to let Jeff take over or when it's okay to knock on a neighbor's door and hand her over for fifteen minutes while I take a shower. And, though they seem few and far between these days, I'm also learning to appreciate moments like the one in the picture below more than ever.

Everyone keeps telling me our sweet little Button will come back, and I know she will. Sometimes I just wonder how long I'll have to wait--because 3 months doesn't seem like nearly the utopian existence that I thought it was going to be.

An addendum: I've been thinking about this post all day, and I feel like it's really important for me to add this note at the end of it. For over two years, I have read posts like this one on the blogs of women I love, the blogs of women who have little ones. I remember thinking over and over how desperately I wished that I had the problem of a son or daughter who cried too much or who needed constant attention--because that would mean I had a baby. I know many of you who read this blog are hopefully waiting for the day you'll hold your rainbow in your arms, and I await that day by your sides. In no way is this post meant to be a "woe is me"--it is simply the moment I'm in.

Why Moms Need a Break

I love my daughter. And I have had time away from her since she was born two months ago; Jeff and I even went on our first Lily-less date last weekend. However, until today, I had no idea what a massive difference there was between running errands by myself and actually having a day just to be on my own.

Jeff has been working long days this week with a lot of evening commitments. Last night, he asked if he could go out with one of the other dads in our neighborhood after work, and I was more than happy to say yes; C. is a great husband and a great dad, and Jeff needed the time with another guy. As expected, the boys had a wonderful time, but what I didn't expect was what Jeff told me when he got home. Basically, he declared today a "Mommy Break Day," meaning that he would take Lily while I took the day to do whatever made me happy. I couldn't get over the incredible gift of time I'd been given!

So, today, Lily spent the day with her daddy in Georgetown. They walked the waterfront, fought to find a place with a changing table in a mens' room (seriously, world--it's acceptable to assume dads don't have little ones to change?!?), and had bottles (beer for Daddy, milk for Lily) outside in the sunshine. And while all that was happening, I had my first pedicure in nearly a year, had lunch with my awesome friend M. out in the sunshine, drank the first cosmo I'd had since before I got pregnant, and sat outside with a glass of wine, happily reading my Kindle without a care.

It's one thing to be a husband. It's another thing to be a father to a daughter. But it is a completely different thing to be a father to your wife. Today, Jeff gave me the gift of Mommy's Break Day, the gift of time with myself and with a close friend, the gift of realizing I am still someone independent of Lily. And, while I couldn't wait to snuggle my little peanut when I got home, I'll be remembering that cosmo in the springtime sun for many days to come.

Why Grammar Still Matters

At back to school night every fall, I like to talk to parents about our writing program. I'm incredibly proud of it; my school produces writers who range from "solid" to "exemplary," and our alumni come back every year to say how well prepared they were for college level writing courses. Because I teach freshmen, I teach many of those fundamental skills at the outset, but the road isn't easy. It takes a great deal of practice to become a proficient writer, practice that my students get as they write paragraphs throughout the fall and essays throughout the spring. However, as any athlete knows, if you only practice a skill once a week at best, you're unlikely to improve. It's the daily practice you need.

And so this is what I love to tell my freshmen: you write more today than I ever did. It's true. I had to pick up a phone to find out the homework assignment I'd missed; writing a letter took a great deal of effort and really only occurred when thank you notes were required. I couldn't just text a friend to see what I'd missed in class or email a friend in England to wish her a happy birthday--but my students can, and they do. They write countless times every single day, though they rarely make the connection between the quick tweet about the essay I just assigned and the writing of the essay itself. Yes, there's a degree of brevity in their daily communications, but it's still a chance to practice.

If they have smartphones, it's even easier; spellcheck is a built-in feature that auto-corrects their every missive (sometimes with humorous results). However, while the spelling may be correct, the grammar may not be, and that's where the opportunity to practice comes into play. If they pay attention to those homophones, to those quotation marks, to those commas and apostrophes, they may just find their next grammar quiz scores slightly higher than expected. And, if they've got grammar-savvy recipients on the other end of those missives, they're also sure to impress. As I explain it to them, ignoring grammar when you type is like walking into an interview wearing ripped jeans and a holey sweatshirt, for your linguistic prowess is how you present yourself online.

Now, if you're reading this blog, chances are you're also someone who values the written word, who finds that sometimes things are better expressed through fingers on a keyboard than a tongue in a mouth. Perhaps you even write a blog of your own or participate in an online community or text more than you call. Maybe you're already a grammar superstar, but maybe--like my freshmen--you still sometimes tilt your head first to one side, then to the other, and then just simplify the problem by typing out "it is" rather than figuring out where that pesky apostrophe goes.

And so here, my lovely readers, are two of the most common grammar mistakes explained. Take 'em or leave 'em, but know that, if you already apply them or if you start to now, you'll suddenly be walking around your technological world wearing a snappy little outfit instead of those ripped jeans.

Your versus You're

The GIF above, of Ross explaining grammar to Rachel, is one that I frequently see posted online when folks get frustrated with improper grammar--and Ross has got it exactly right. Here's why: an apostrophe does one of two things: it creates a contraction or indicates possession. (It never ever ever makes something plural, but that's a lesson for another day.) In the "your / you're" case, the apostrophe is creating a contraction, which means that two words are being smushed together (contracted) by leaving a letter (or two) out. So, when you write "you're," you're really writing "you are" and just eliminating the a and replacing it with an apostrophe.

Its versus It's

The same basic principle applies to this one as to the previous one, but there's a little twist. Let's say I want to write the following sentence:

The car is lying on the car's side.

Grammatically, that's just fine; the apostrophe in "car" makes it possessive, as the car is the owner of the side. But it sounds a bit redundant, right? So let's take advantage of a pronoun to fix the problem:

The car is lying on it's side.

Seems logical, right? If "car's" in the first sentence was possessive, then "it's" in the second sentence should be possessive too, right? But here's the rub--you actually just wrote this sentence:

The car is lying on it is side.

Stupid complex English grammar, right? See, possessive pronouns never take apostrophes; it's the reason you've never seen "her's" or "his's" or "their's." By their very nature, possessive pronouns are, well, possessive, so they don't need a little apostrophe helped to show that. As a result, what you really wanted to write was this:

The car is lying on its side.

Here's the cardinal rule: any time you write "it's," you mean "it is." No exceptions, okay?