The Plan

When I was in college, one of my nicknames was "cruise director."  I like to think it was meant in an endearing way.  It reflected the fact that I am was the quintessential planner - planning nights out, planning vacations, planning study schedules, planning happy hour destinations.  Is it any surprise I always also had carefully set out plans for my life?

The plan back then was simple:  move to London after graduation (which I did).  Meet English man with an EU passport.  Marry said English man, preferably a professor or executive who gets summers off or can otherwise make his own schedule.  Get law degree.  Embark on high powered legal career.  Have a couple of kids, four years apart.  Make enough money to be comfortable; okay, very comfortable.  Send kids to college, retire abroad, and die peacefully in sleep before Alzheimer's sets in.

When I met my now husband, who donned a Long Island accent and American passport, plans altered a bit.  My plans became our plans, which consisted of getting our law degrees, getting the big firm names on our resumes, getting married, and buying a house somewhere affordable.  We would have two kids, three years apart, and get more flexible jobs where we could actually spend time with our offspring.

For a while, we stuck to our plans. Law degrees?  Check.  Big firms on resume?  Check.  Buy a house somewhere affordable?  Kind of - check on the buying a house, not on the affordable part. Two kids three years apart?  Check on the two kids, but two years apart (who knew it would happen so quickly?).

And now is the part where we are supposed to get flexible jobs where we spend time with our offspring.

Pic of the Week - Goin' South

Yes, we are off again.  Another night of packing, another stuffed car, another trip.  This one is just the boys and I, and we are headed to see the grandparents.  Lucky for me, the grandparents live here:  

In T-6 hours, we should arrive in Wilmington, North Carolina.  There are definitely worse places to be.

Longer post tomorrow.  Happy Monday, everyone!

Ode to the Second Child

Being a first child myself, before having Casey I hadn't really given much thought to "second child syndrome."  In fact, when I was pregnant, my concern wasn't with whether or not my future baby would get enough attention; it was sadness over my loss of time with Braden.  I was on a leave of absence from work at that time, and Braden and I spent every minute of every day together.  During those last few weeks of pregnancy I mourned the fact that the days of just the two of us were coming to an end.  In fact, I harbored a great deal of guilt over this.

I knew that I would love my second child, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't worry that I wouldn't love him as much as Braden.  I just couldn't imagine loving anyone more.  Would there be enough room in my heart to love another child just as much?

Ten months out, the answer is a resounding YES.  I can honestly say that I love my little Casey munch so much I think I'll explode sometimes.  I can't believe I once resisted and, in a way, dreaded his arrival.  Just as I did with Braden, I have fallen in love with Casey in a hard way and think he is the cutest baby to ever walk this earth (equally tied with Braden of course).

Despite my equal love for Casey, I have noticed subtle signs of the affects of his birth order.  Nothing groundbreaking per se; just small things.  Most all of his clothes are hand me downs.  While Braden received numerous personalized items as gifts (a duffle bag, a lunch box, a bench, a puzzle, a book, etc.), Casey only received a lone onesie and hat with his name on it (gifted to us by a fellow second child who made a point to give a personalized item - thank you Ethan and Debbi!).  Braden has numerous photo albums and montages devoted to him and gifted from family; Casey has none.  When Braden was a toddler, I enrolled him in a music class and made periodic playdates with other toddlers his age.  Casey, on the other hand, is just along for the ride.  If Braden wants to go swimming, he tags along.  If Braden goes on a playdate, it's just a plus if Braden's friend also has a younger sibling.  

Un-wined of the Week - A Double Bust

I have to admit that when I started these wine reviews, a teeny tiny part of me had this hope that maybe someday it would lead to me getting free wine.  You know, the blog would explode, and wineries from around the world would send me bottles just begging for me to review them.

That hasn't exactly happened yet.  But, it seems my friends are filling in the gap.  On Tuesday night I had a playdate at a friend's house, and as I was leaving her husband reached into their fridge and passed me a bottle of half-drunk wine.  He said I should review it.  Who was I to refuse? He mentioned under his breath that it cost about $2.99 from Whole Foods.  Hmmmm, a red flag perhaps?  That, and the fact that he was giving it to me, when it was half drunk?  The wine was:

Three Wishes Chardonnay
California (no year specified)

Sabrina and Joe, while I totally appreciate the free wine, I must be honest.  This wine was, in a word, disgusting.  I don't like Chardonnay to begin with, but this just brought my dislike to a level I didn't believe possible.  It was bitter, flat, and made me scowl after just one sip.  I have the remainder of the bottle to return to you when I see you next.   I do like the label though.

Overall rating - 1/10

I decided move on to a different bottle we already had on hand, which was:

Alamos Malbec
2010

My husband picked this bottle up for $12.39, and I love Malbec, so it had promise.  But it seems that last night it just wasn't meant to be.  This wine brought new meaning to the term, "Blacktooth," which is my husband's nickname for me when I drink bad red wine.   Shortly into the first glass my teeth, lips, and surrounding gumline were bright red.  I had to brush my teeth multiple times to finally rid myself of the stain.  The wine was heavy, syrupy, and had bitter, thick tannins.   After one glass I felt a headache coming on and popped two advil, just to ensure a peaceful night sleep.

Overall rating - 1/10

What a bust.  The memory of it almost has me turned off of wine at the moment, which is tragic really.  I am thinking I may need to up my game (and my budget) to drink something decent next week.  Any suggestions?

Baby Nurse

Before I had kids, I thought a "baby nurse" was just a nurse in the hospital who took care of babies.  I suppose that may be true.  But a baby nurse also refers to a person who is not a nurse at all.  Rather, it is a title for a lady who comes to live in your house when your baby is born and hangs out with your baby all night.  Unless you have a spare bedroom, they sleep on the couch, or on the floor in the baby's room.  They hang out with you and your family during the day.  They eat with you.  They sit with you.  They teach you all things baby, but an actual nursing degree is not required.

Oh, and did I mention you have to pay them for all this hanging out?  Somewhere in the area of $200 a day.

Baby nurses are very common in New York, so when I was pregnant with Braden, and my mother in law asked me if we were getting a baby nurse, I answered with a big, "Huh?"  It had never dawned on me.  And I quickly decided no, I did not want some random stranger coming into my home when I was emotionally fragile and bleeding and recovering and my baby was only 3 days old.  No, I wanted to experience the sleep deprivation and night feedings and exhaustion first hand.  It was a rite of passage I wasn't about to pass off to some random woman in white scrubs (yes, they actually wear those).

Granted, I did have a bit of help during this rite of passage, which came in the form of assistance from my mom and dad.  But save for a few days here and there, my husband and I beared the brunt of it all.  And, as any mom knows,  it was HARD.  Those first few weeks are brutal, but there was a sense of pride in knowing we had done it.

Pic of the Week - Six Years Ago Today...

I was 26.

I was newly engaged.

I was anticipating the start of a legal career.

I was a little bit lighter.

A little bit freer.

A little bit braver.

And I was here.

Great Barrier Reef - Cairns, Australia

But little did I know what I was missing. 

Un-wined of the Week - Some Local Flavor

Long Island isn't just strip malls and diners.  There are actually some vineyards here.  And an unassuming beach community called the Hamptons. 

Since I am in Long Island for a couple of days, I figured I would sample some of the local wine.  Today's wine of the week is:

Duck Walk Vineyards Merlot
2008

This particular wine is bottled in the North Fork of Long Island, which is just north of the Hamptons (which is the southern part of the "fork").  (To see the website of the actual vineyard, click here).  I've actually driven through here before after taking the ferry from Connecticut, and I have to say, it is really beautiful.  My husband and I have even commented before that we should take a trip sometime to go vineyard hopping in this area. 

If we ever do this, I will probably visit this vineyard for the beauty, not for the wine.  The Merlot I sampled was just so-so.  It didn't even really taste like a Merlot, more like a Zinfandel gone wrong.  It was acidic and had a sour aftertaste, and was teethstaining.  That being said, it was drinkable, just not completely enjoyable.  At the price of $9.99 a bottle, if I ever make it to the North Fork again, I'd be willing to give good old Duckwalk Vineyards another chance. 

Overall rating - 4/10

Speaking of the Hamptons, I'll be heading out there tomorrow to hang poolside at my brother-in-law's summer home.  Real Housewives style.  So I may not have time to write tomorrow.  I hope this doesn't ruin everyone's weekend.  (Ha!)

The Ceremonial Snipping

It's going to be a quick post today.  We are in the midst of packing up the car to get on the road to New York, so we can attend the bris of our nephew tomorrow.

We are so excited to meet him.  I mean, what is more precious than an 8 day old newborn baby that is not keeping you up at night?  But as quickly as we meet him, he will be whisked away by some old guy with a kid doctor kit and no medical degree, who will cut the skin off his penis with no anaesthetic.  Oh wait, they do give the baby a little bit of wine afterwards to numb the pain.  That makes it all the more acceptable.

We did a bris for both of our sons.  I didn't particularly want to, but it was important for my husband to have his childrens' penises snipped by an old Jewish guy in front of friends and family.  I have to say, it wasn't as traumatic as I thought.  For some reason (the wine perhaps?), neither of my kids really cried.  It was a pain to deal with the aftercare (picture raw, red, bloody newborn baby penis), but I suppose we would have had to do that even if they had been circumsised in the hospital.  (And I'm not going to engage in the circumsised versus non-circumsised debate that seems to be so prevalent these days - to each his own, do what you want with your kids' penises).

Pic of the Week - Budding Musician

You know how every mother thinks that their child is the smartest, most attractive, most talented individual on the planet?

I think that too.

But in all honesty, I have to believe that Braden is a budding musician just overflowing with musical talent.  He has always loved music and singing, but his new obsession is his guitar.

He strums along and sings the following songs:

 - I Gotta Feeling, by the Black Eyed Peas
- Mean (or as Braden calls it, Sumpa Umpa), by Taylor Swift
- Felt Good on my Lips, by Tim McGraw
- I Like to Move It Move It, by Reel to Real
- Baby Mine, by Alison Kraus
- Goodbye, as sung by Jack Black on Yo Gabba Gabba
- And all the classics of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, Old McDonald, Row Row Row the Boat, and the ABCs.

Quite a montage for a two year old, don't you think?

What (Not?) to Wear

I never thought I would miss my business casual uniform.  But to be honest, I kind of do.

There's something so simple about it.  Pair of pants.  Button down shirt.  Maybe a sweater, or a dress that went to the knees.  Apart from the once a month jeans day, my wardrobe was pretty predictable.  (*Author's note - have you ever been at a law firm when it is jeans day?  The twinkle in the attorneys' eyes, the spring in their step... truly magical).  Now?  I don't have much use for the business casual clothing anymore.  They sit in a box in the attic.  

So what do I wear?

When Casey was born, it was pajamas.  I have a lot of pajamas, none of which are particularly cute.  Picture some kind of pajama pant with mismatched torn, decade old sorority t-shirt, and that was pretty much how you would find me October - March of this year.   Then the sun started staying out longer, and I started feeling more comfortable leaving the house with two children in tow.  And I have to say, my clothing and style generally leave a lot to be desired.