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The weekend before last we all descended upon my Grandma's house to help her celebrate her most recent birthday, the exact number I won't go into because she's a lady. Henry and Holly love going to her house. She has a piano, a stream with lots of rocks for throwing, lots of yard for running around in, and plenty of fragile glass objets d' art sitting right at toddler level, so, you know, Holly's happy. My parents drove down on Saturday morning and we had a big fry-up for breakfast, as is our tradition. Halfway through the bacon sizzling and the eggs scrambling, who should walk in buy my Grandma's first-born, my Uncle, who, unbeknownst to anybody, had flown up from Florida for the weekend. It was quite possibly the most thrilling birthday present anyone could have given her. There's nothing quite like having your whole family under one roof again, especially when it seemed like everyone had moved so far away from each other.

We spent the day talking, eating, making exciting side trips, eating some more, talking some more, and just generally relaxing. Henry spent the latter part of the afternoon busily organizing a fireworks display based on six or seven sparklers I found in my Grandma's basement, so once everyone had their fill of cake, Henry escorted everyone to a pre-arranged seating area and instructed me to start setting off the fireworks. It was a fitting end to a fine celebratory day, especially as far as Henry was concerned.

That night, much to Henry's glee, we discovered that my parents were in the room next to ours (Thanks Aunt Molly!). The interior door separating the two rooms was thrown open and Henry and Holly busily went back and forth between the two. Henry eventually settled down for the night in my parents room and after a quick discussion in which we ascertained whether any offense would be taken, Dave and I decided we'd each sleep in our own separate double bed. It's the small luxuries in life...you take them when you can get them.

Henry gets motion sick if he goes for any kind of car ride on an empty stomach, no matter how long or short, so our usual M.O. is to order in breakfast so he can eat while we pack. My Aunt works at the hotel, so she brought our breakfast up and later rejoined us to say she had been able to get off early. We all headed back to Grandma's for another fry-up. The kids passed some time tossing rocks in the stream until it was time to climb into the car for the ride home. Henry told me in no uncertain terms that he was very sad that we had to go. I love that he loves going to his Great-Grandma's house as much as I do. I was also very sad that we had to go...

Posted by Jenn at 10:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

...all the way back to Easter? We had a great Easter. After school on the Thursday before, we got in the car and made our way down to Dave's parents in Virginia. Friday was rainy and a bit chilly, but that didn't stop Henry and Holly from splashing in puddles and getting so thoroughly dirty they had to go straight into a bath. In fact, Holly was disrobed in the garage, leaving behind a pile of sand where once she stood. Saturday and Sunday were both warm and sunny. The air smelled like heaven. I don't know what was in bloom over that weekend, but I wish I could have bottled it. While Holly was napping on Saturday, the rest of us settled down for a serious session of dyeing eggs. I'd started prepping Henry a few weeks earlier that this year the Easter Bunny would be hiding real eggs as opposed to candy-filled plastic ones. I was expecting a protest, but he didn't seem to care one way or the other. Perhaps the colossal amount of candy he gets during the course of the year thanks to the various holidays is enough to satisfy even his sweet tooth. The older Henry gets, the more devious the egg hiding can be, which I absolutely love doing. The irony is, Henry hunts eggs by standing in one spot and surveying the scenery, eventually asking for hints. Holly, on the other hand, tears around the yard looking everywhere at once. Their two different hunting styles meant that Holly actually managed to hold her own against Henry, despite the age difference.

After the egg hunt and Easter baskets, we spent the rest of the day eating: pancakes and bacon, then moving on to deviled eggs and hot cross buns, then ending the day with ham, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, salad, corn, and wine. Holly had a fever by the time dinner rolled around, but you wouldn't have known it from the amazing quantity of food she ate.

We were all very sad on Monday when we got back in the car and headed home. The weather was so gorgeous and we had such a great and relaxing time that it felt like summer vacation had already started. I was ready for the beach. Tuesday was a bit of a rude wake-up call.

Next up, a summary of this past weekends trip to my Grandma Ethel's for her birthday, complete with fireworks and a surprise visitor!

Posted by Jenn at 06:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The mail just came and nestled between a seed catalog and our credit card bill was a catalog from "H.R. Harmer, Global Philatelic Network". From what I've gathered, they're sellers of fine stamps. Philately is not my thing, it is, however, very much my dad's thing. The only reason I can come up with as to why I received this in the mail is that they've found out how amazing his french stamp collection is, and after unsuccessfully soliciting him directly, they're trying to get to him through his kid. During our last visit a couple of weekends ago, I was there when my mom found out how much one of the stamps she "got" my dad for Christmas a few years ago cost. Whoo boy! That was a good one to be around for! You know what stamp collecting is? Surprisingly expensive. I also think it's a bit dull, especially compared with a truly exciting hobby, like collecting Radio Orphan Annie paraphernalia, *ahem*, so my dad is holding out hope that either Henry or Holly will take up his collection someday. For now, though, they're not allowed anywhere near it.

Posted by Jenn at 01:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A couple of months ago I came across these instructions for a peasant style dress for toddlers. I immediately fell in love with it and wanted to make one for Holly. The only problem was, my understanding of why you do things a certain way to have specific results are completely lacking, and while I can follow a detailed pattern if it's accompanied by detailed photos, if it doesn't, I'm completely lost. So all of the bits in the instructions having to do with, say measurements and sizing, were about five miles over my head. So I bookmarked the page and asked my mom if she'd help me out some time.

Enter a few days after Christmas. The week before we left for Boston, I headed out to a local and amazing fabric store I wish I'd known about five years ago in search of fabric. I came home, laundered it, then sprang it on my mom the day before we were going to leave to come home. She read the instructions, understood them because she's smart and talented, and we got to work. She explained the sizing, the measuring, the putting together, and the general "why" of it all. While she pinned and ironed, I worked the sewing machine, while Henry either sat next to me or sat under the table and worked the sewing machine pedal. In a couple of hours, Holly was toddling around in a brand-spanking new dress.

For this go-around, after much discussion we decided not to add the elastic, mainly because we thought it would be a bit irritating to Holly to have rubbing against her skin all day long. Next time I make one, my mom suggesting I wrap the elastic in casing before I sew it in so it's a bit softer.

I don't think anyone is more proud of being a part of putting the dress together than Henry. Holly came down in it a couple of days ago and Dave said "What a pretty dress, Holly!" Henry came over to check it out and when he saw what she was wearing, he said "That's the dress Mom, Grammy, and I made!"

Posted by Jenn at 02:29 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I seem to have taken a bit of a hiatus from the blog. It's probably my subconscious prepping me for next month's NaBloPoMo craziness. Purge my brain, clear my thoughts, assuming there was anything there to begin with.

When last I wrote, my parents were arriving within a few hours, and my mom had plans to surprise the young man at the bus stop. She did, and although it took him from the time he jumped from the last step of the bus onto the sidewalk to the time he got to me to realize I was not there alone, he was indeed very surprised. After a range of reactions which ultimately culminated in a resonant "THHBBBTTT!" for lack of any better way to express himself, he played it off like he knew all along. When we got home, he saw his Grandpa and said, as non-chalantly as a five year old can play it off, "Oh, you're here, too," and with that, the weekend was off with a bang.

Saturday was by far our busiest day. We had a leisurely breakfast, after which we headed out to a local Octoberfest. Dave has been dreaming every night of the Disney Biergarten beer and buffet since we got back home, so he was anxious to heft another stein, as was my dad. The beer was good, although it stands to reason it would have been better had it been accompanied by the sight of my uncle sporting lederhosen while playing the alp horn. There was a bounce house, a horse and buggy ride, apple crisp, and battered mushrooms, so the rest of us were equally happy. We returned home for a brief respite before heading over to the University's football game. Holly and I hung back for part of it so she could sleep off the morning a bit. We arrived just after half-time and celebrated the last two quarters with Twizzlers, popcorn, goldfish, a smoothie, and raucous waving of plastic hand-clackers. By the time the game ended, four of us were wrecked and staggered home, while my Dad and Dave headed over to the soccer game. Their energy was bewildering. There must have been some magic in that Octoberfest beer.

The rest of the visit we spent laying low. The weather turned to a chilly, drizzly mess Sunday night and stayed that way for the rest of the week. It forced us inside where it was cozy, and we spent Monday and Tuesday relaxing. Henry was thrilled both days to see his Grammy waiting for him at the bus stop when he came home. It was very sweet. I'm not even going to mention the amazing dinners they cooked while they were here, because it just makes me glum, especially knowing what we're going to have for dinner tonight. Needless to say, it was hard to see them off on Wednesday morning.

Posted by Jenn at 12:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Last week, as the weekend loomed larger on the horizon, I became more and more antsy. On Wednesday I said to Henry "Wouldn't it be great if we could go to Virginia and visit your Grandparents this weekend?" He agreed wholeheartedly. On Thursday morning, just as real panic was about to set in, I whispered in Henry's ear to go tell his daddy that he wanted to go to Virginia. So he did. Dave said "Okay!". Angels started singing. Dave said he'd email his dad to see if it was a good weekend, but I said it might be best to call since we'd be leaving in just over 24 hours. Fortunately it was a good weekend for them as well.

On Saturday one of the neighboring towns held a parade that Dave's mom marches in every year. Dave marched too, as did Henry, who banged away on his drum. The parade ended at a field where there was food, live bands, and animals. We had lunch, stared at some goats, then headed back home where Holly and Dave's mom took naps while the rest of us headed out in search of fresh strawberry milkshakes. Henry initially didn't want to go, but once we were there, insisted we go out to the fields and pick strawberries. We came home laden with goodies, including pie and wine. After a quick regrouping, we headed to Charlottesville for a tour of the University of Virginia, which I hadn't ever really seen, aside from a parking garage and the bookstore. It's a beautiful campus. I temporarily felt sorry for myself and the relatively unattractive colleges I attended while pursuing higher education, but then again, I did enjoy making a big mess while downing crawfish boils at UNO, so there's always a silver lining. It turned out Robert Randolph and the Family Band were playing a gig at the amphitheater on campus, but at that point Henry was pretty much ready to call it a day so we picked up some Thai food for dinner, and headed home for the night. Looking back, I can't believe we crammed so much into one day, especially since we weren't rushing around trying to fit it all in, the activities just sort of flowed into each other. It was perfect.

Yesterday Henry got in some quality time with the garden hose, something he's been asking to do since February. He was unable to resist the urge to spray his dad and sister, although I'm impressed with how long he held out before finally giving in to it. Dave apparently informed Holly she should probably get used to it.

On the way down to Virginia, we passed a truck that was transporting horses. I asked Dave if the Kentucky Derby was this weekend. Then I wondered aloud about how long it would take to get there. Dave loudly and vehemently declared we would not be going anywhere for the next two weekends. Lame.

Posted by Jenn at 01:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

A couple of friends lent me their Moses baskets to use after Holly arrived and my parents, Dave, and I were all blown away by how totally awesome they are. We used a pack n' play bassinet for Henry and it was totally not awesome.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago my mom and I were watching a "Newhart" rerun. It was one of the episodes following the birth of Stephanie and Michael's daughter.

mom: Look! They're using a Moses basket!
me: Yeah!
mom: That's so cool! I'd never seen one before Holly was born. I wonder how long they've been around.
me: Well, they are called Moses baskets...
mom: Yeah, but like that means anything...
me: I'm totally putting this up on the blog.

Then she hit me.

Posted by Jenn at 07:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Remember me? I thought I'd take a minute to tell you a bit about our weekend while my kid protests taking a nap by banging relentlessly against the wall of his bedroom.

Late Friday afternoon, the three of us piled into a rental car and headed for the vast open expanses of Interstates 80, 81, 84, and finally 87, home of some of the worst rest stops in the history of rest stops. (Roy Rogers? Seriously?) My grandmother's birthday was Friday and we thought we'd surprise her by showing up on her doorstep bright and early Saturday morning.

My parents got there in time for lunch on Friday so they took her out to dinner and got her a little cake to celebrate with on Friday night. Because Friday was her birthday. The bigger celebration with the bigger cake would be on Saturday. The day after her birthday.

By Saturday afternoon I noticed that she was getting a lot of phone calls from people wishing her Happy Birthday. There was even a bouquet of flowers delivered to her from my Aunt. After the fourth or fifth call, I asked my dad why everyone was calling on Saturday instead of Friday. Because Friday was her birthday. He said he didn't know. Then he said maybe her birthday wasn't Friday. So I asked her "Wasn't yesterday you're birthday?" And she said "No, yesterday I was 89. Today I'm 90." And my dad and I had a good laugh, then blamed my mom for misleading us, because she's the one who knows this kind of information. After discussing how we would avoid making this mistake again next year, we settled on writing down "Grandma's birthday" under the correct date on our calendars. Seems like a good plan.

Later when we brought out her extra super big and official birthday cake, Grandma asked us why she was getting another one since she'd gotten one already the evening before, and my dad said "Because yesterday wasn't your birthday." Slightly embarrassing and yet she got two birthday cakes! I hope everyone forgets which day my birthday is next year.

As if not getting the day of her birthday right wasn't bad enough, when I told Megan about it on Monday, she laughed and said "Didn't you guys do that last year? Or was it the year before?" Now that's embarrassing.

Posted by Jenn at 02:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Yesterday morning my Dad and I strapped Henry and the dog into the backseat of the car and drove off to brave the wilds of the westernmost regions of the state. Not that the Berkshires are all that frightening, I just have a tendency to give in to dramatic impulses once in a while. "Once in a while" being, let's say, every ten minutes or so. Give or take nine minutes. Or so.

The point of the trip was to visit with my Grandma. I haven't seen her since last April which is completely unacceptable. My only excuse is that once Henry got past the age of one year, it became harder to travel with him overnight to places because he was a bit sensitive about whether or not we would be there when he woke up if he wasn't completely familiar with his surroundings. Now that he understands that when we say "We'll see you in a few hours," we actually will see him in a few hours it's become easier. This has been a very recent development and it's made life quite a bit easier in certain respects. Of course the flip side is when we say "You can have your chocolate bunny later" he actually remembers. Now we have to be very careful.

Anyway, he was a bit shy around my Grandma at first but then warmed right up to her after she encouraged me to go ahead and cut him piece after piece of chocolate-frosted cake, which I did because I'm afraid of her. After lunch we went into the living room where I flipped through a huge bag of family pictures, Dad and Grandma lounged on chairs, and Henry ran back and forth between the organ and piano she has. Perhaps needless to say, he was in heaven.

While Henry was napping, I got to sit down and talk with Grandma, take the dog for a walk, throw snowballs into the stream that runs through her backyard with my Dad, and generally slow down and enjoy being there. After dinner Henry didn't particularly want to leave the house that had the chocolate-frosted cake and piano in it and only after a bit of coaxing did we manage to get him out the door and into the car. Although he was too shy to give her a good-bye kiss, I'm sure the next time Henry sees her he'll remember her.

Posted by Jenn at 07:49 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

My parents came up for the weekend on Friday and left this morning. Although it would appear on a day-to-day basis that there's absolutely nothing to do in the neck of the woods we call home, we managed to have a crazy weekend anyway. Each day Henry's nap got later, as did his bedtime, but who wants to sleep when you can play with grandparents instead? The best part of the weekend occurred last night when, after months and months of coaxing, Henry finally said "Grandpa". And since he said it once, he decided to say it a lot. The saddest part of the weekend was this morning when he said "Bye-bye Grammy!" and waved as she went out the door. Henry said bye to his Grandpa after they were in the car and driving away. He's been asking for them all day.

Tomorrow is Halloween which means I have five million pumpkins to carve. I always set a lot out down near the sidewalk in order to lure kids to our part of the street. Most of the neighborhood is older and so there are a lot of porches with the lights turned off; people don't bother coming our way much. This year will be worse because our street's closed off due to construction. Of course none of this stopped Dave and I from stocking up on enough candy for 2000 kids, which led to the following conundrum at the store: do we buy candy we like because we're probably going to have lots left over, or do we buy candy we don't like because we're going to have lots left over? We bought candy we like, but probably we should have gone the other way.

Who am I kidding, we did the right thing. I plan on being in a Butterfinger/Snickers-induced sugar coma by nine o'clock tomorrow night and I'm looking forward to it!

Posted by Jenn at 02:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Henry is fourteen months old. Knowing that, you could safely deduce that my dad became a Grandpa fourteen months ago, and technically you'd be right. However, I'd like to say that my dad officially became a Grandpa this past Saturday.

My parents came up Saturday afternoon to babysit Henry so Dave and I could have a leisurely dinner then go see a movie. They've done this before, but usually we've only gone out for a movie, and we've always caught the late show which means Henry was already in bed by the time we would leave. While talking to my mom early last week I mentioned we were thinking of heading out on the town around five, which meant they would have to deal with dinner, bathtime, teeth-brushing, and bedtime. I believe my mom's exact words were "GREAT!!!" which is technically only one word, but you know what I mean. (For the record, they couldn't wait to get rid of us on Saturday. From the time they stepped off the train to the time we actually walked out the door to go out, I believe they asked us at least four times to clarify exactly when we were leaving.)

After we picked them up from the train station and had some lunch, we set Henry loose from his high chair so he could run around. Within five seconds my dad was on the floor with him and the two of them played until Henry started fussing for his nap. I gave Henry some milk, tucked him in, then retired back to the living room. While Dave was messing around on the computer, my mom and I worked at restringing Dave's banjo and my dad settled onto the couch with his book. Ten minutes later, my mom and I notice a low rumble coming from behind us. We turn around to find my dad, glasses still on, book across chest, snoring away. He and Henry had completely worn each other out. I turned to my mom and said "It doesn't get more "grandpa" than passing out on the couch after some hard-core playtime with the grandkid does it? I guess this means he's official now."

Posted by Jenn at 09:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)