Sunday, January 29, 2017

Motherhood


For those who have read this little blog for a few years or more, you may have noticed that I didn't do a "year in review" post like I have done for previous years. It's not for lack of wanting to, I promise. I just don't have my act together these days. Surprise!


Just kidding, this should come as no surprise. Motherhood is not for the birds. It takes your precious time and energy, and chews you up and spits you out and leaves you feeling both elated and empty at the same time. Each minute of every day can easily hold extreme joy and also deep despair (whether your own or your child's), and it's all I can do to hold on as I ride this roller coaster of emotions with my little girl.





My  little girl. Gosh those words sound strange to me. I insist that she be my baby girl, not little girl. And yet time stamps on her the marks of growing up, and she is going to turn 2 years old in five weeks. It is true then, a little girl she is. With Liza Love, I find myself wanting time to stand still as we sit on the sofa and read books and I nuzzle my nose into the squishy soft underside of her cheeks. And yet at other times, like when she's body planking in absolute refusal to get in her car seat, I wish she was a grown woman, and I could rest and read and write and work out and be a more present friend & wife and cook dinner without her standing on my feet trying to climb up my body.


But I would surely miss so much if we skipped forward to easier days. I would miss Liza Love taking her diaper off and running through the house naked saying "get you!" (short for "I'm gonna get you!") I would miss her absolute refusal to take her antibiotics for a mild ear infection -- causing nearly a week of my daily tackling her as pink amoxicillin goes everywhere (NOT fun to clean up.) I would miss the ladies at the grocery store saying hi to the "sweet, cute, pretty, fat baby" like one did today (nearly once a week, someone calls LL 'fat'.... It's totally a compliment but I still find it amusing.) I would miss her OBSESSION with Frozen and her fifteen "Let it Go" song requests a day. I would miss our family dance parties to La La Land, Bieber, TSwift and Ed Sheeran. I would miss her body-hug greetings that she gives to everyone she knows (and some people she doesn't know) and my having to tell her to let go after she's held on for a bit too long. I would even miss the breathy way she says "I sorry" after she sits in time out for some wide array of infractions (throwing her food, throwing her fork, hitting, pulling hair, disobeying.... that girl's a firecracker, let me tell you what.) I would miss our walks around the neighborhood and stopping to make geese and duck sounds or to pet every dog that crosses our path or to watch the squirrels and talk about acorns. I would miss how she wants her "bankey" (blanket) and sometimes refuses to eat unless it's in her lap. I would miss her incessant "Raffi mama!" requests in the car each time one Raffi song ends and before the next one comes on. I would miss her wide-eyed face and exclamations she makes whenever something big happens -- taking a big bite, putting on her big coat, me putting on my big puffy vest. I would miss her complaining and saying "holdy mama" whenever she wants me to pick her up (which is always and without fail while I'm trying to make dinner.) I would miss these days so much. And I don't want to.



A lot of mothers will tell you that these years with young children are all about survival and endurance. This is totally true. But I don't want these years to just fly by as I get through them and wait for Liza Love to grow up. I want to endure them with joy. I want to cherish and savor the moments with LL -- yes, even when she is misbehaving and frustrating me to no end. Even when the laundry hasn't been folded in a week and there are layers of crumbs under the kitchen table, and I'm nervous that a friend is going to show up unannounced and see the chaotic state that we live in. Even when I'm tired (um hello... always) and the idea of making yet another dinner makes me want to pound wine. (Wine and coffee are God's gifts to mothers, I swear. And LaCroix.)



The laundry can wait. The dishes can pile up. Husbands can come home to a state of disarray. Eventually all those chores will get done. (BTW, I am majorly preaching to myself right now because for me, an orderly home makes a peaceful heart. But actually, as Christians, our hearts should not be easily swayed based on our circumstances or how perfect our homes are. Rather, our hearts should be steadfast and grounded in the Lord. That's why David wrote "renew a steadfast spirit within me" in Psalm 51. Again, I am majorly preaching to myself here... I'll be the first to tell you I ain't no saint.) For now, I need to remind myself that Liza Love is only 22 months old once, and she is changing so much every day, and I don't want to miss it because I was too concerned about my to-do list. Or, even too concerned that my quiet time is routinely cut short because the little miss keeps waking up early from her nap. Why yes, the good Lord knows that a mom's quiet times sometimes are gonna be brief (if they happen at all.) And that is ok. It's all ok.



So. As we snuggle in the dark each night, I'm going to keep whispering in Liza Love's ear that she's my baby girl. She may drive me crazy sometimes, but she will always be my baby girl and I will never stop loving her. And I wouldn't trade these days for anything.




Friday, December 9, 2016

The Best Hostess Gift / What to Bring to Christmas Dinner

Let's cut right to the chase.

We've all been in the situation when you are invited to a friend's house for dinner, or a Christmas party, or a gathering really of any sort and you feel like you can't show up empty-handed. What's the easiest thing to bring?? Why of course -- a bottle of wine.* But everyone does that and the host probably already has a ton of wine on hand since they are hosting the party.

So here's what you should bring:

Trader Joe's Syrah-soaked Toscano cheese.


And you should bring it with one of these cracker options, also from Trader Joe's:





And you can thank me later. 

I'm not joking. 

If all else fails, you could always find a cute hat and scarf combo from JCrew. 

Life-size dollbaby not included

For realz, this cheese is something else. It's just that good! I first had it last week at a friend's baby shower and my life hasn't been the same since. Go get it now at Trader Joe's. Go go go!

*I have nothing against wine. I love wine. If you are still worried about bringing only cheese and crackers as a hostess gift and feel like you need to pack an extra punch, of course you can still bring wine. Make it a red though.

Ciao!


Thursday, December 8, 2016

A Scene from the Sofa

Sometimes Michael and I will play Catch Phrase with each other as we sit on the sofa. We just go back and forth with each other over and over until the buzzer goes off. (Think this is weird? Yes, perhaps.) Yesterday, Michael's phrase was "Anne Frank."

He said:

She's was a pioneer of woman's suffrage!

I said:

Susan B. Anthony!

He said:

No!

And then the buzzer went off. I then asked who it was he was trying to get me to guess.

He said:

Anne Frank!

I said:

What?! She died in the Holocaust.

He said:

Oh.


So there you have it. In school, I excelled in the humanities. Michael was all math and science. We go together like ra-ma-la-ma-la-ma ka-ding-a-la-ding-a-dong. But really, here's hoping that Liza Love gets the best of both of us.

In other important news, Liza Love is now 21 months old and is hilarious. She packs more personality in her little 27 lb. bod than most do in their full-grown frames. She is super aggressive in her loving, and I have to watch her like a hawk around other kids her age lest she grabs someone's hair or knocks anyone down.

She currently does this face that we've dubbed "The Fish Face" -- she tilts her head back and looks down her nose at you while opening and closing her puckered lips -- just like a fish. Last Sunday, while picking up Chinese food after church, we discovered a fish tank that we hadn't seen before. WELL. LL thought stars were falling from Heaven!

"Fish!"

"Fiiiiiiiiish!"

"Fisssssssssshhhh!!!!"

"Fish!!"

What are these slippery creatures

Nemo

HOLD THE PHONE

This picture kills me

Holding me hostage to discuss the plan about the fish





 

I love this chica.



Saturday, August 27, 2016

(Late) Summer Reads 2016

I know that summer is basically over, but maybe you are still in search of a great read to carry you through Labor Day and into the fall??

Reading is for meeeee

Gosh I am practically brimming over with excitement for the fall, really for one reason: PUMPKIN SPICE LATTES.

No, I'm kidding. I just said that to be cliché. I don't even like those things. The real reason I am humming with excitement for fall is because I don't know if I can survive one more day of this summer heat. Beating the heat is what I'm about right now. The name of my game is "What To Do With A 17-Month Old Toddler and Not Melt??" I'll tell you what: stay inside and play Noah's ark for the 100th time.

Anyway, here are a few books that I've read lately and have greatly enjoyed.

When Crickets Cry -- Charles Martin: I'm hesitant to say this because I don't want to dissuade you from reading it, but this novel sits like a Nicolas Sparks novel: Beautiful southern countryside, good people who are down on their luck, and a little bit of love. I loved the characters in this book so much that I found myself worrying about them throughout the day and having to remind myself that they weren't real. It's beautifully written and makes you cry, laugh, celebrate, and want to sit on the front porch with a beer and a friend.

The Kitchen House --  Kathleen Grissom: This is a story about slaves and their masters on a Virginia plantation and a young white girl caught between those two worlds. It'a a fictional but flabbergasting account of what use to be commonplace in our country, and I couldn't put this book down.

When Breath Becomes Air -- Paul Kalanithi: This fabulously-written memoir about a young neurosurgeon's struggle with his own mortality after being diagnosed with terminal cancer had me at hello. It felt especially personal to me because Michael is a neurosurgeon, and it helped me understand his world much better. But don't let that stop you from reading it -- countless people who aren't immediately connected to neurosurgery have talked with us about this book. Don't read this without tissues, but man, it's good.

The Shoemaker's Wife -- Adriana Trigiani: Oh for the love of all things beautiful, stop what you're doing right this minute and go read this book. It's the greatest love story stretching from the Alps of Northern Italy in the early 1900s, to New York City in the 1920s to Minnesota in the 1940s and beyond. I simply adored it. Enza and Ciro will forever be in my heart! I did have a friend who actually didn't like this book.... if you are not into gorgeous (sometimes long) descriptions and a sort of drawn out love story, then this book isn't for you.

Eligible -- Curtis Sittenfeld: This is a modern day retelling of Pride and Prejudice. It's a total chicklit page-turner that I flew through, despite it being very ribald and off-color. I felt like the author felt a need to blow the roof off every social issue of our times (transgender issues, racial issues, premarital sex, feminism) while also going down a strange plot centered around a reality TV show. I don't think everyone will like this book, and it's not a work of literature by any stretch, but it's a quick and entertaining summer read.

The Royal We -- Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan: I actually read this one last year so the details are a bit fuzzy, but the bottom line is that I loved this book. Just like the previous description, it's not a work of fine literature by any means, but it's an absorbing look into a fictional account of Prince William and Princess Kate -- their meeting, courtship and engagement. It's another one that I couldn't put down. It's nothing life-changing, but the pure entertainment and insight into the royal world made it worth it to me.

Loved Walked In -- Marisa de Los Santos: Despite all the characters being too rich or too smart or too kind or too handsome or living in a too perfect home, this story made me smile from ear to ear. It also sort of broke my heart at times, but it ends well. Gosh I wish all books could just be like this one: redemptive, quirky, and romantic.

That's all I've got for now. I hope you at least read one book this summer that you loved! And that you can make it to the beach if you haven't already.... or at least get a beach read and pretend you're there. The beach sure is different for me now with this chick in tow:

"You shall not read. You shall play with me at all times."

"I laugh at your attempt to read! There are birds! We must point at the birds!"

Oh little one, you are a hoot.

Saturday, July 2, 2016

5 Years

Today is our 5 year anniversary. Woot! 

It's your anni???

Let's go dance!

Lend me the mic for a minute here: 

I have a man who (for some reason) loves me and who has the most gorgeous eyes in the world. I could stop right there with that but I'll go on. He is my Italian stallion who still makes my heart go wubba wubba (go with it.) He can cook, he can garden, he can do brain surgery (well... he's getting there,) he can't sing but he can dance. He is crazily in touch with his emotions -- way way way more than me, he is kind and genuine and smells good, he cries with me when we watch Parenthood together, he looks hot with a weed wacker, he somehow can stay focused on whatever he's doing even when Liza Love is being THE cutest nugget in the world (this being the reason why I can't get anything done... I stare at her all day.) He tries everyday to honor Jesus with his thoughts, words, and deeds, and he is the best loser when I consistently win at gin and speed scrabble (why yes, actually we are indeed 75 years old.) Gaaa I love my man. 

That very same man just started his second year of residency and is crushing it so far. Unfortunately for us with today being our 5 year anniversary, he's on call at the hospital today and tonight. (PSA: Being "on call" as a lower resident means you are actually in the hospital; you don't get to take home call until you are a senior resident. The things I learn...) So we haven't actually gotten to spend time together today, aside from 15 minutes of coffee sipping at 4:30 this afternoon when LL and I paid him a brief visit at the hospital. 

Now let me be clear: this is NOT a pity party here for me right now. I am feeling loved and celebrated by Michael with a great dinner and a movie last weekend, and today with some fun pampering activities that he booked for me. In fact, the fact that I'm sitting on the sofa alone on a Saturday night is honestly ok with me! If Michael was gone every Saturday night, sure, that would be hard (and actually that sort of is the case this year,) but I've got a good book and I need to catch up on the Bachelorette (true story) so I'm in good company. And there are early 4th of July fireworks going off outside so that's fun. Until they wake up my sleeping baby... 

The whole reason I even opened my computer and started typing all that I just typed is because I am feeling so grateful to a dear friend who brought me ice cream tonight! She knew I was alone on my anniversary evening and popped over just a few minutes ago to bring over some Graeter's. Another PSA: if you don't know about Graeter's, honey you are missing out! I'm saying this like I'm some loyal devotee to the brand. I'm really not, except that it is pretty dang good and I have a happy memory of a friend from college bringing it down to UVA from Ohio. To this day, I still remember how amazing the coconut flavor was. I mean, Graeter's is the stuff of dreams! Or maybe the fluff of dreams? Anyway, it's an Ohio ice cream company and lo and behold, it's sold here in Durham! So maybe they sell it near you, too. Woooo -- ALL THAT TO SAY -- it was a sweet and simple gesture that my friend brought over ice cream, but it has made me so happy tonight and feeling loved and known and cared for. I am singing the Lord's praises for her and the gift of a friend that she is. 

Yes, it's July and our Christmas cards are still on the fridge. These are our people!




 
If you're still reading this, hit pause while I go fix myself a bowl of ice cream right quick. If I don't return, it's because I've died and gone to heaven.

.......


.............


....................


...........................


Or actually, I'm just out of things to say for now. I love my man. I love my ice cream friend. I love my friends who are all gathered at a Texas lakehouse this weekend to celebrate their 30th birthdays. I love my snapchat friend who keeps snapping me from that lakehouse to keep me in the loop. I love my baby girl. I even love how North Carolina has brought out the country in me so much so that I have this song stuck in my head right now. One word: TWANG. 

5 years!




Saturday, June 11, 2016

Mon Petit Pomme Frite

The Art of Eating a French Fry
by
Liza Love Catalino







Hit pause and admire that little neck





Conquered.

French fry compliments of HopDoddy Burger Bar in Dallas, Texas on April 21, 2016. 



Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Goodnight Georgetown

Little big girl cruisin' the hood.

It's been nine months since we moved away from DC. And it's been nine months of not a single day going by without something triggering some thought, memory, person, scene, or scenario from our life there. I might be in the grocery store buying apples and recall my love affair with the amazing apple selection from the Georgetown Safeway (best apples ever!) I might be taking a walk around our neighborhood lake and still expect to see hundreds of people by the water before I remember that Durham, North Carolina is a lot less densely populated than Washington, D.C. I might be looking at Instagram and notice that a DC friend posted a pic of a new Georgetown restaurant and momentarily forget that I don't live there as I get excited to try it out.

Tricycle date with our man E

The first several months in Durham felt to me like an extended stay in someone else's house. It felt like we were just waiting for another away rotation to be over so we could return home to our Georgetown apartment. I couldn't believe that I actually had to load Liza Love in the car (gasp!!) and drive to the grocery store instead of walking there in five minutes. And with that, of course, came a little something called MEAL PLANNING which I had never done before in my life. I learned pretty quickly that I better jump on the meal planning bandwagon or I was going to spend my life loading LL in the car and driving back and forth to the store to buy food for dinner.

And who's got time for that??? 

I've also noticed how much one season changing to the next creates such a longing in me for my old city. When summer slowly turned to fall, I daydreamed about the city-wide phenomonon of women switching from sandals and skirts one day to boots and leggings the next. I can hear the clicking of boots on brick sidewalk, I remember the excitement when pumpkin-spice lattes came out, and how crazy the Halloween decorations are that show up every October in Georgetown. When DC got dumped with snow a few weeks ago, I so wanted to be there to be snowed in and forced to walk to friends' houses to watch movies and drink hot chocolate. And with spring right around the corner, I know that the tulips in our old front yard are going to pop up, red and welcoming, just like they did the previous four years.

"Hi. I'm #1 and I love my tongue" - LL 

I miss so much about Georgetown. So many things come to mind that were seemingly small and insignificant but meaningful to me nonetheless: the beautiful flowers on the corner of Q and 32nd Street and the big white retriever named Cody-Dakota who always lounged on the sidewalk; Montrose Park where I used to take a book and a blanket to read and sunbathe; walking by Los Cuates and always getting a wave from the waiters who knew Michael and me so well since we ate there all the time; the old lady named Joy who always (I mean always) wore all white and walked her little white dog, Valentine, everywhere she went; the cars honking in the morning on 33rd Street trying to turn left onto Wisconsin Ave.; Santos, our little waiter friend at Casbah Cafe, and his genuine excitement whenever we came in to eat; my favorite running loop down Q Street and up Mass Ave. and remembering the exact spot where I took a huge tumble once while running with Michael; the roses that climbed the wall of my friend Jessie's house; the waterfront and the throngs of people strolling hand in hand on every warm weekend afternoon; the kayaks and paddleboards on the Potomac; evening walks with Michael and peeking into the beautiful Georgetown homes and commenting on the usually gorgeous (but sometimes creepy) interior decorating; the African Union Mission across the street from our apartment and the kind chauffeurs who smoked and chatted as they hovered around their cars all day; the line at Thomas Sweets every summer night that always surprised me at how long it seemed but how short the wait actually was; Michael's walk down Resevoir Road to the med school and how I sometimes would surprise him and walk home with him at the end of the day; the crazies who stood in line at Georgetown Cupcake waiting for a little sweet treat; the little Italian women who stuffed raviolis in the window of Filomena; the hidden streets and quiet gardens that Michael and I loved so much; the black SUVs always sitting outside of Secretary Kerry's house on O Street; the insane Georgetown undergrads who never had coats but always had the tiniest skirts on while going to bars in the middle of winter; sitting at the Volta Park Pool and overhearing a wide range of conversations - from where to buy weed to how to teach your child to swim; and Book Hill Park and how much I loved going there for a quick jaunt outside, even with the homeless men always asleep on the benches.

Little ham. (Clearly, these pictures do not correspond with this post.) 

I realize of course that now with a little one in tow, much of these things (like the fun of being snowed-in) probably wouldn't hold as much as the charm now that they do in my memories. And I'm certainly not forgetting that there are so many things about DC living that were hard (like trying to drive anywhere between 4 and 7pm.) But we lived in a historical and influential and often crazy city that deeply impacted our lives. I wrote this recently in an email to a friend:

GIRL. Can we have a moment of lamentation for DC?? Not a day goes by when I don't miss it. Actually, LONG for it. I miss the people and dear friends of course, but I think what I feel on a daily basis is more of an innate missing for the city as a whole. The traffic, the sounds, the people out walking their dogs, my local Georgetown spots that I knew and loved, the weather, the changing seasons, my runs (that had turned into walks with a stroller by the time we moved away last May) up Mass Ave. past the embassies, the "important" feeling you often had because you knew you were living in an "important" city, walking to church in Chinatown, the amazing restaurants a stone's throw away, the history of the place.... oh I could go on and on. I miss it deeply and often think about what it would have been like to still be there even with Ms. Liza Love.

I'm easy. I fit in anywhere. I love you.

We are really happy in Durham, but it's quite different. It's slower here, and I don't think that it's just because I'm home more often than I was before. Michael and I knew we were going to really miss DC when we moved away, but to my surprise, even Michael has said that he could see us moving back there, or to another big city, in the future. Of course, that is still at least seven years away, so who knows what our lives will be like then.

2 margaritas has us like... 

But for now, I miss DC. It's been nine months and we are definitely where we are meant to be, but it's not easy to let go of a city that you lived in, loved in, and that shaped so much of you. It's where Michael and I spent our first fours years of marriage -- and those are some special years. I hope that we can grow to love Durham and Chapel Hill in the same way.  It's where we are!

Duh!