...in the Easter parade...

Holidays create an interesting conundrum for couples. Whose family gets the visit? If you're fortunate (?) enough to have both sides in close proximity, this predicament grows.

One side of our family, the quirky ones, live 30 minutes away. The other side, the loud ones, live ten minutes closer. The quirky ones tend to plan get-togethers a bit more in advance than the loud ones, therefore earning "dibs" on our little family on a fairly regular basis. However, the loud ones tend to expect us to give them priority, as this has been the modus operandi of past generations. We find ourselves trying to keep the peace with both sides by splitting a holiday in two. This often means two meal contributions to prepare, two meals to consume (often in an uncomfortably short span of time), and two rounds of the same conversation. This also means a VERY long, overstimulating day for itty bitty baby, giving us a VERY long, exhausting night following the festivities. Today, we found ourselves in just this situation.

First on the docket, decide which dessert to take to which family. Verdict: strawberry cream cake for the quirky ones, Boston cream pie for the loud ones. Second, figure out clothing for all three of us. Now, I realize what I'm about to admit may seem a tad high-maintenance, but I accept this fact and move on: we always match on holidays. Family gatherings always proffer at least one "Kodak moment," and it has always irked me when people's clothing clashes in pictures. As a result, I have deliberately chosen matching - or, at the very least, coordinating - clothing for myself, the husband and itty bitty baby. Sometimes this is easy - we have a LOT of clothes that work together, and often find we unintentionally match. Other times, like this year, I stress over this. But I will not be dissuaded from my quest to match. This Easter, the palette consisted of white and a cheery spring green. Itty Bitty wore a white polo-onesie, green sweater vest & his first pair of khakis, I a quickly made white eyelet skirt and green tee, and the husband (grumbling notwithstanding) looked dapper in his "geek chic" plaid shorts and polo. Preps of the world, be proud.

Alright...food prepared, clothing laid out. On to the events.

Attended church service with parents. One million hands reached to hold Itty Bitty Baby as he clung to me for dear life amid the throng. Hastily assembled cake for the quirky ones, headed to Kooky Gramma's for late-ish lunch at 1pm. Itty Bitty played musical relatives while large quantities of potluck-style grub was consumed. Retreated to Kooky Gramma's bedroom to console Itty Bitty after first major meltdown of the day. Packed everything up, quick stop at parents' house to hastily assembled "pie" (tangent warning...why is it "pie" when it's a cake? C'mon, people...) and headed to join the loud ones for "lunch." At 4 pm. Okay...sat down at looooooooooong dining table amid 974 two-way monologues, attempted to eat polite amount of second "lunch," while watching Itty Bitty play second round of musical relatives. Two hours later, consoled Itty Bitty after second major meltdown of the day. Tucked little guy into carseat to snooze while small talk resumed.

And then we had to stop for gas on the way home, bringing major meltdown count to three.

Long day. Welcome to our holidays.

Oliver Edward

We first met on a cool December morning - the 10th of December, to be precise. You had taken your time deciding to arrive, and we finally had to convince you to come in the end. But once you decided it was time, there you were.


And from the first moment you were a force to be reckoned with.

From your first hours it was very clear you were an incredibly alert, attentive little guy. It seemed like you didn't want to miss a detail of this new world you had just discovered.

It also became clear quite quickly that you had inherited your mother's "Irish temper" ...

You have grown so quickly. I marvel at how you develop new abilities and discover something new about yourself every day. Not too long ago, your movements were erratic and slow - you hadn't yet developed a level of control. Then you were suddenly able, with finer, more circular motions, to make contact with your target. Almost overnight, your swooping movements have become more deliberate, more fine-tuned, and you reach out and grab something, pulling it to yourself. Before long you'll be crawling, then walking, then running.

Recently, to commemorate three months of life with you, we arranged for a friend to take some pictures. She managed to capture your many moods ...

Content -
Inquisitive -
Playful -
Overwhelmed -

Whatever your mood, I bask in the joy of being your mama. You bring more happiness to me than the floweriest words can express. I can't wait to see the little boy you will become, the kid, the teenager, the man.
Four months down...so many more to come.