love letter to The Office

Yep. I know. You're thinking, "Could she get any more pathetic? I mean, a love letter to your mom, I get. A love letter to a state was pushing it, but it worked out. But a love letter to a sitcom?! Give me a break!"

My friends, my friends, little do you know how wrong you are.

We finally watched the series finale to The Office. And I really liked it. (Except all that sentimental "life lessons" talking heads at the end... I mean, we could have cut the extra tv-15 minutes/real life-5 minutes out of the episode and cut those a little shorter... but whatevs.) I was nervous because reports were reporting that Michael Scott would not be appearing on the finale, which made me feel like woh woh woh, what's the point? But then he did! And it was magic! Yay Michael Scott!

It was weird because this season of the show, we'd watch it as if it was a chore - something we didn't really want to do, but knowing that it was the end, we felt obligated to finish it out. Then the finale happened and we wanted to keep watching and hanging out with our office buddies.

Yep. The Office characters were definitely a significant part of our lives. Brad's first summer selling, I would watch The Office seasons over and over. Sometimes I'd just play them in the background so I didn't feel like I was by myself. One day, he came home, and I was telling him that there was something funny that had happened to me that day... what was it... Then I realized it was something that had happened on The Office and not something that had happened to me. They were my friends and we hung out every day. Even Brad had some spill over into his real life with The Office (remember the temple announcement?). And go back even further... on Brad's first birthday that we celebrated together, I bought him a season of The Office on dvd and put it in Jell-O ala Jim. Our Office roots run DEEP.

So, at the end of an era, farewell to my friends. We'll miss seeing you on a semi-weekly basis. You were like real family to us - sometimes we dreaded having to hang out with you, but we really loved you a lot bit.


PS How lame is this post? NO PICTURES? I know, it's like a cardinal sin. But whatevs. Here. Here's a picture of me and Brad from that summer I thought I was hanging out with The Office. Isn't it funny how AWESOME shaggy hair like this was? Way to go Jim being such a trendsetter.

love letter to maine

Today we leave this little state in the top corner of the country. We arrived here a little over six weeks ago and literally were here long enough to have a baby before moving on.

And as much as I've been antsy to move and get settled in our new place and hopefully have some sense of permanency for the next few months, I'm going to miss it here.

Maine is the place where I spent my last days as just me and Beck. Where we explored the city and the beaches. Where I waddled around with my sidekick, letting him be the center of attention for just a few more weeks.

Maine is the place where we became a family of four and welcomed a little Zozo bug into our hearts. Where she finally arrived after being toted all over the country (and another country) in utero.

Not to mention that Maine is the place where we lived in the most legit place we've ever lived. Our apartment had a fancy doorman. It was located right on the water, just a short walk from the beach. We had a view of the city and of the bay. We were five minutes from downtown. Our apartment was huge and had lots of natural light. It was basically like a dream. On clear days, I'd look out over the water and wonder if I ever imagined that it could be so deeply blue.

And now, we are leaving, probably never to move back, and it makes me a tad bit sentimental. When we arrived, there were still signs of winter: piles of ice/snow in parking lots, naked trees, bitter winds. We were unsure of how we'd all adjust to our new baby and uncertain how things would work out. At our departure, the city is coming alive with spring flowers and budding trees and green green green. And we love our new little family and are starting to figure things out. The days are warmer and our hearts are happier. 

Maine is the place where our family and our love grew in size, and for that, I'll always hold Maine in a special place in my heart.

a love letter to my mom

Today my mom leaves after a good long visit of helping us adjust to life with two kids. She's been Beck's little buddy every morning (early early early morning - thanks Beck for waking up at dawn, literally), and every afternoon she'd take him out for a walk on the beach.

She's been Zoe's little cuddler who tried to settle her after fits of yucky stomach and who fed her and who changed plenty of her poopy diapers and who took care of that gross umbilical cord/belly button thing that gives her mom the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

And she's been our little chef, inventing beef waterfall wraps (that I now dream about) and making halibut and feeding us all the fanciness that comes from local grocers, Trader Joe's, and Whole Foods (mmm....). And she's been anything else that comes up: our photographer, our ceramic impression maker, our errand runner, our babysitter...

But most of all, she's been my little angel, helping me adjust to this new change and reminding me that in the long run, everything will be ok.

Thanks mom.

Mother's Day

Last year, I celebrated my first Mother's Day with a child. Our plans weren't too fancy: drive two hours, pack bags, fly five hours across the country to our new home.

This is my second Mother's Day. And now I have two kids. This fact blows my mind. How do I have two kids already??

Our plans are even less exciting than last year: sleep a little and keep surviving. And eat ice cream. Naturally.

Holla to every mom who has survived this whole more than one kid thing. I thought one was tiring, but two?! Hats off.

Happy Mother's Day people.

Zozo

I realize it's been quiet over here.... we're just adapting to life with little Zoe (or Doi?! as Beck likes to call her).

catch 22

 Here's a catch 22: babies.

It's funny because I find that I want the new baby to arrive so that I can hurry up and get the first three months of sleeplessness and slavery over with then move onto six months ASAP (six to nine months is arguably my favorite) - but where's the fun in rushing this and only looking forward to the future?! No "Joy in the Journey" or what not? I still find myself wishing for Beck to be older sometimes (I can't wait till he can tell me what he wants, I can't wait till he can follow directions, I can't wait till he can understand better....), but then I almost instantly counter with STOP GROWING UP ALREADY!!!

Parents always say something along the lines of "Cherish every moment because they grow up so fast," but then you have those days where you get your son from his nap to find that he's unzipped his pjs, opened his diaper, and has his hand in his poo saying, "ew ew ew" and you think, "He can't grow up fast enough!!" Then the next minute you're on instagram virtually watching other people's babies grow up so quickly, and you're in a panic because it's happening so fast! Instantly I want to freeze everything and keep my kids as kids forever!

Not to mention that this year marked my fifth year of marriage. FIVE YEARS PEOPLE! The first milestone. I remember being married for a year and thinking that was a lifetime and I wasn't a newlywed anymore, but it's already been FIVE years?! Where has the time gone? I'm old! I look at college kids and they look like babies! And they dress weird! I'm not cool anymore!!

I know in a blink of an eye, Beck is going to be old and going off to college and I'm going to have to move down the street so he's not too far away and so I can prevent him from finding a wife who I'm going to have to share him with! The audacity! Doesn't she (she being the future wife) know that I'm his first and ONLY love!? Or at least that I should be?

The moral of this post: life isn't fair. All I want is to be done having kids but not done with babies but to be done with babies when I don't like it but to have them when I want to but stay young but grow up. Is that too much to ask?!

just the two of us

He is so intense about smiling that his whole body starts to shake a little... it's almost threatening. And it's my favorite.

I am almost hitting my due date, something I honestly did not believe would happen. I was confident that this baby would come early since Beck came early and also since I'm pretty sure my due date was off in the first place. 

But this baby isn't showing any signs of budging soon. And while I am not a fan of the discomfort, the lack of circulation in my legs, the cumbersome belly that is constantly in the way of normal functionality, the feeling of being hot beyond hot even though it's not hot, nor the inability to sleep at night (whew - that's quite the whiny list of pathetic woes), I am actually glad the baby isn't here yet.

What?!?!?!

Yep. 

When Beckham was born, I was overwhelmed at the idea of a newborn: little to no interaction/gratification, constant needs, and an uncertainty of what-the-freak-does-this-baby-want/why-won't-he-stop-crying. Plus the whole hormonal roller coaster + lack of sleep thing = perfect storm. I loved this baby, but I wasn't in love with being a mom. 

Flash forward a little bit and you find that this little ninja is my heart and soul and my lifeblood even though it wasn't so at first. And now, I feel a bit like I'm betraying him by having a new baby to demand my time and my energy; he will no longer be the star of the show. Granted, I know that in the long run, siblings are the shiz, and they make the world a funner place, but he won't understand that when she arrives. And she won't be able to really play for a good period of time. So part of me naturally feels a little bit of guilt about the whole newcomer thing.

But luckily, sister isn't in a rush to get here, and we have these next few days to be just the two of us. Even if mom is a bloated awkward whale who can't really play very well.

 

Food.

These days, there is usually only one thing on my mind: food. 

Like the magic that comes from Standard Baking Co. Mmmmmm bread.

Or these snacks that I would never impulse buy but I do because I'm with child. And they are awesome.

Or the seventeen freezer meals that fill my freezer for once this new baby arrives. I didn't realize how crazy that was till I saw them all in there.

I also will invent things sometimes. Luckily it's not those mythical pickles and ice cream cravings.

It's more like stuffed baked tomatoes...

And in case you want some too, here's what I did.

3 roma tomatoes
4 oz cream cheese
4-6 baby bella mushrooms, sauteed and minced
A handful of frozen spinach, thawed and cooked
1/4 c parmesan cheese
1 t minced garlic

Cut the tomatoes in half lengthwise and spoon out the insides.
Mix the rest of the ingredients together. I made up the measurements afterwards so it's not super important to be accurate.
Fill each tomato with the mixture and place on a cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 for 15 minutes or until cheese is warm and tops are akmost golden brown.

random

Just some things that have been floating around this old brain of mine....

If this were my first pregnancy, Brad would have just returned home from working in Alaska (just now?! What the heck! This was the time equivalent of my visit to Alaska my first pregnancy - doesn't that seem like FOREVER ago?! I was fake single for SO LONG). AAAAANND I would be birthing this baby this weekend. THIS WEEKEND PEOPLE! Basically, this baby could come any time now. And as much as I'm bored of being pregnant, I don't know if I'm ready to have two babies.... I definitely know we're not ready to name this baby. Still. We suck at naming this kid.

Bloglovin.... not really sure what it is except everyone keeps talking about it, and they imported all the blogs I currently follow in Google Reader (dear google reader, TRAITOR! how could you do this to me?!)... I'm not sure how to hook you up with my blog in Bloglovin.... so I'll keep you posted if I figure something out. My brain is fried from this fetus who is so kindly feeding off of it.

 (Beck discovered the camera remote. And LOVES it.)

Aaaaand, I opened an etsy shop. Because what else do you do when you're pregnant and crafting like a crazy lady and avoiding real responsibility and trying to nest without a semi-permanent home?

38-ish weeks in COLOR

(Spare me a moment for a lot of self portraits)

Lately, I've been wanting to reintroduce color into my wardrobe. After wearing cream/black/gray/olive/neutrals/dark colors for so long, this is quite the task! I have no idea how to do it (and fear I'll end up looking like a clown), but I love the way a bright outfit transforms a moody day into a sunny one.

{Anthropologie top, belt is old Shade warehouse sale - but I've seen lots of awesome ones at Target lately, Old Navy skirt - LOVE these, Naturalizer flats - so comfy}

 In response to this first attempt... Brad said, "Whoa... bright. Can't miss you." I don't know if he was referring to this approximately 38 week belly or the lots of colors... or both. Because you can't miss a monster belly garishly dressed in its technicolor glory.

{Old Navy maternity pants, b.o.c. shoes - can't find them anywhere but I bought them at Macy's and they're AWESOME}

It's cold so this is more accurate of how I'd wear this top.

 

{Gap maternity jeans - BUY SOME, they're the comfiest, Sperry Topsiders, Target blazer, House of Harlow necklace}

 But let's be honest, this is more my comfort zone (and usually I need a jacket because it's not quite spring yet in Maine). And that face? That's how comfortable I feel taking all these pictures of myself.

Any tips? I'm at a loss....

{I'm joining a Spring Brights Link Up with Rachel from Mr. JP & Me. I love when people come up with "themes" that force me to think out of the box wardrobe-wise. Ruts are the worst. She's doing one every month (hopefully) so play along!}

sherbet

Just an old photo by Coryn that I recently rediscovered...
I think it's from 2010?

Do me a favor and settle a debate.

Sherbet. Pronounced "sherbet" or "sherbeRt"?

One of us says it's sherbet. Like sure + bet. Because there is not an "R" in the end. Obviously.

One of us says it's sherbert. Like sure + bert. Because that's how it "should be pronounced", and lots of people say it like that.

So, my friends, is it sherbet or sherbert?