Category: Life

NaNoWriMo. This is happening.

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NaNoWriMo

After I dithered about it here, I decided to pull the trigger.  I’m participating in National Novel Writing Month.  It started this past Saturday on November 1.  I’m already 4,938 words in.  Only 45,062 to go!  Gulp.

Because I can’t write a post without caveat-ing, here is my caveat.  I’m not giving myself an out not to finish, but I did pick some easier subject matter.  Instead of trying for an original work of fiction, I’m going for a memoir essay-style thing.  Why, you ask?

First, I didn’t have a great idea for a piece of fiction.  My only hatchlings of ideas involve things like zombies and post-apocalyptic stuff.  Which surprised me.  That is definitely not where I thought things would go.  I decided not to delve into these ideas (right now anyway) because I didn’t want to give myself nightmares for the month, and I worried I’d be out of plot in three days.  With my own life, I should (in theory!) have enough content for 50,000 words.  Also, it is easier to write non-linearly if I want to.

Second, I want to remember.  I’m not sure this book will be shared.  I may try to do something with an essay or two out of it.  This is more for me.  My memory is not great.  On the whole, I’m grateful that I got to grow up before the world of social media, but digital cameras sure help keep things from falling through the cracks.  Writing makes me think about things I thought I had forgotten.  It helps me remember.

Third, I am reading a lot of memoirs right now so this seemed logical.  After being unimpressed with my current kindle selections, I reread Tina Fey’s Bossypants.  I read Lena Dunham’s Not that Kind of Girl.  I just finished Amy Poehler’s Yes Please.  (Order of personal enjoyment: Fey, Poehler, Dunham.)  [Update:  I haven’t re-read recently, but I shouldn’t leave out Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) and Judy Greer’s I Don’t Know What You Know Me From: Confessions of a Co-Star.  So more like Fey, Kaling, Greer, Poehler, Dunham.)  But the one that really tipped it for me is Jenny Lawson’s Let’s Pretend this Never Happened.  As James commented, I’ve never read a book like this before.  There are rambling parentheticals, footnotes, and non sequiturs.  This may sound terrible, but it works.  This is the most I have actually laughed out loud at a book in recent memory.  My life does not have magical squirrels or other West Texas charms, but reading this book made me feel freer about how writing can be.  In the one recent-ish writing course I took, I was told to avoid parentheticals.  Now I say tough.  I adore parentheticals.  This is my book and I can write it however I want.  Thanks, Jenny Lawson.

Anyone else doing NaNoWriMo?

Happy Halloween, ya’ll

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Ah, Halloween.  The most wonderful Facebook time of the year.  Unlike the common complaint, I LOVE seeing pictures of other people’s kids on FB.  This is pretty much the reason I have not yet deleted my account.  I am super psyched to see pics of all the kids in their adorable costumes.  Here is my contribution.

Halloween

As you can see, we have two football players.  Or a football player and a football.  (Shout out to Aunt Winky for the awesome knitted hat!)  I obsessed for a hot minute on costuming.  On the one hand, I didn’t want to spend a lot of money.  On the other hand, kids costumes are adorable and I figure I have limited years when I can dress them however I want.  I also really wanted a matching costume option.  Henry has been really into Tigger so I contemplated a Tigger and Winnie the Pooh getup before deciding that was way too much money to spend to basically dress Henry as a Clemson Tiger.  Sorry, Family.  We were able to achieve the look above with only the purchase of the helmet which gets a lot of play around here since it doubles as Henry’s moto helmet.  (Clearly not for safety.  He just wants to wear a helmet while riding.)

Halloween isn’t a big deal over here.  I’ve seen a few decorations in stores.  James and I went to dinner last night and saw a restaurant putting up a witches and things in the window.  I thought, if you are bothering to decorate at all, why not do it before the 30th, but whatever floats your boat.

James’s work had a trick-or-treating event for kids.  People decorated cars and you went “trunk or treating.”  It was pretty sweet.  Henry got surprisingly into the tchotchkes from the carnival games.  We were informed that Henry was in the “top 3” for the costume contest.  Several of the judges were our friends so I’m pretty sure they just didn’t want to seem biased.  We bailed shortly into the trick-or-treating because it got intense fast, but a very fun night.

Henry and I decorated giant sugar cookies from a kit (thanks Nana!).  Well, I mostly did the decorating.  Henry did the eating.  (There was much debate with my girlfriends whether the cookies were meant to be eaten or whether they are more like gingerbread houses.  The packaging didn’t say to eat them, but it also didn’t say not to do it.  And it lists ingredient so probably eaten?  I can report that the cookies themselves taste pretty gross.  Henry loves them.)  I’m generally more into the process and really don’t care how things look, but I was frustrated that Henry had no interest in decorating the cookies before consumption.  Come on, kid, can’t you just smear a little icing on?  But then he’d have the icing bag up to his mouth funneling frosting.  Oh, well.

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I carved a pumpkin today.  (Note that I did not say we carved a pumpkin.  More on that in a sec.)  Even though I am not crafty or artistic, I am strangely into seasonal craft activities.  I love to dye elaborate but deflicted looking eggs.  Bring on the fireworks!  And I really really love to carve pumpkins.

My pumpkin “skillz” have really come a long way.  As a kid, I refused to touch the pumpkin guts.  I spent WAY too long trying to scoop out the insides with a spoon and not let any of the detritus touch my hand.  Now I can clean a pumpkin in two minutes flat.  In years past, I am frequently the official pumpkin scooper because James claims his hand is too big to fit inside.

And, you guys, remember the days before pumpkin carving kits?  Here, kid, go nuts with this paring knife.  But, oh, the kits rocked my world.  First, I really like using that dotty stabber thing to make designs.  I guess a pencil would work as well, but I think the planning is helpful.  Also, I like to freehand these days, but the prepackaged designs provided great inspiration.  Pumpkins can have eyebrows??  Before, I was definitely in an eye, eye, nose, mouth rut and I didn’t even know it was a rut.  Until I saw the designs, I had no idea how far pumpkin carving could go.  Remember this was in the PP era (pre-Pinterest).

So today I thought Henry could help carve the pumpkin.  He decided to take a morning nap.  He didn’t actually nap.  See, the only time he can have his pacifier is in the crib.  He knows this so sometimes he likes to just go hang out in there.  Instead of feeling hurt that my toddler would rather sit alone in a darkened room with his pacifier than hang out with me or wait for him to emerge, I decided to just enjoy carving my pumpkin.  So not the enjoyment of seeing a child experience something new, but the enjoyment of doing what you want and actually finishing something.

I decided to use Mac for pumpkin inspiration.  Not in a sit-here-kid-and-let-me-pumpkinize you kind of way, but just going for the essence of Mac.  That kid is just so darn happy.

How’d I do?

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I’m pretty pleased with the results.  (If this is a “good” outcome, you can appreciate how many of my other crafting attempts look.)

The kids will be trick-or-treating in the building tonight, and then I am ready to stick-a-fork-in-it done this Halloween.

What are your Halloween plans?  Don’t forget to post those adorable kiddo pics!

One theory on why fewer women partners in law firms

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So I stumbled across this article the other day, Being a Stay-at-Home Parent Is a Luxury … for Your Spouse.  I swear, I am really not trying to wade into any of the mommy wars.  But the article made me think about my previous experience at a law firm.

Of the male partners I knew, many had

To caveat, I’m speaking purely anecdotally about my own experiences, but I think some of this likely rings true in other places.  Also, please prepare yourself for some guesstimation. Ok, moving on to the part where I really try not to offend the interets.  [UPDATE:  this is also not a comprehensive theory on why fewer women partners.  This is more like one possible contributing factor.  If I had it all figured out, I could hire myself as a law firm fixin’ consultant and clean house.]

My firm had over 400 attorneys in its DC office.  At the associate level, the ranks are pretty evenly split between men and women.  For partners, however, less than half are women.  Maybe around 1/4?  1/3?  Like I said, I’m guesstimating, but–as at most firms–fewer women partners.

Of the male partners I knew, many had stay-at-home spouses.  Of the women partners, one did.

Law firm life can be very flexible, but it is certainly demanding.  It really helps not to have to worry about leaving at a certain time to pick up the kids or rescheduling a conference call to take someone to the doctor’s.  As the author notes, having someone at home certainly makes travel and staying late easier.  And you can be more productive when you can outsource all those nagging tasks like remembering to buy more band-aids, picking up a present for the birthday party on Saturday, and waiting for the internet repair peeps to show up.

It is possible to have these benefits with a working spouse, but you have to hire help.  Which means finding good help and then managing someone.  It’s not impossible, but it adds layers.  Many lawyers with big careers are drawn to coupling with other people with big careers which can mean less wiggle room and time to manage people.

In sum, my generalization is that, in my experience, more male partners than female partners had situations where they had less to manage on the domestic front.  Law firms reward those who can fully commit to the office.  Having someone else do things at home makes that commitment easier.  Now again–I am not trying to anger you, oh internet–I’m in no way saying any of these things are better than any others.  This is just my observation on the way it played out at the firm.

Hope about you, hopefully unangered reader?  Would you benefit from a stay-at-home spouse?  Have you noticed any differences for those with a stay-at-home spouse?

 

My kind of errands

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On Saturday, around 5:00 pm, in the finally crisp fall weather, we set off on our evening passagiata.  Passagiata is that special time in the late afternoon when you just walk, browse store windows, see and be seen.  Another expat describes it well here.  The people watching really is fantastic.  I particularly like this walk because, if Henry will consent to being stroller-ed, it is almost like a mini-date for James and me.

Although restaurants won’t open until around 7:00 pm, most of the stores are open, after possibly being closed during mid-afternoon.  We took advantage of this to check a few tasks off the list.

Up first, the tabacchi.  That’s right, the tobacco store.  We don’t smoke, but I almost think of these things like gas stations for pedestrians.  You can get snacks, magazines, and–our aim–metro/bus tickets.  I’ve got 10 tickets burning a hole in my pocket now.  I’m hoping to share some adventures in public transportation soon!

Next, we strolled over to the wine store.  I’m still scared to take in the stroller because of space issues and fear of Henry grabbing bottles, but James picked up more recommendations from his fave employee (a French woman who speaks excellent English).  The last batch had a good mouth feel, but, now that the weather is cooling, I’m looking for something more robust.  Look for more wine tweets on these soon.

And then, the pasticceria.  Oh, the pasticceria!  This is a pastry and chocolate shop that we have passed many times but never entered.  (I again blame the stroller and Henry grabbing things.)  James came out with 18 euros worth of amazing looking chocolate.  He picked up some dark chocolate bark with hazelnut pieces and some little bonbon squares.  We’ll see how long these stick around.  They are incredibly rich so it would be hard to eat a lot of them at once.  I think.

After the kids went to bed, we had some incredible takeout from Himalaya’s Kashmir.  Followed by a pretty stellar wine and dessert course.  This was a nice Saturday night before dealing with Daylight Savings Time, which I now know to have been invented only to torture parents.  We start earlier than the U.S. so for the next few days, I’m only five hours ahead of you folks on the East Coast.

All the rage in Milan, I mean Rome

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Let’s talk fashion.  Style.  What the Romans are wearing day to day.  But first, let me acknowledge that this post would be infinitely better if it was filled with pictures of actual Romans.  I get that.  But originally this post was going to have no pictures.  I didn’t want to stealth photo anybody, and I didn’t see interactions to ask for a pic going well.  (Besides the fact that I generally have hands full of stroller navigating 45 degree angled sidewalks which does not make it easy to quickly pap someone.)

But then I had the “brilliant” idea of at least photographing shop windows.  And asking James to stealth photo people.  (You’ll see; James stalked A LOT of dudes for this post.  I think I’ll actually make that a whole separate post.  I know.  The suspense is killing you.)  So there is glare, but let there be photos!

I like to pretend that James was hiding in the bush to take this picture

I like to pretend that James was hiding in the bush to take this picture

So with that out of the way here are some generalizations about fashion I’ve seen during my two months in Rome.  I would not say this goes for the rest of Italy, or even the other side of the city.

If I had to pick one word for Roman style it would be deliberate.  An outfit may not be my exact cup of tea, but everything looks like it is selected purposefully.  People have really embraced Stacy London’s “completer piece.”  There is usually something–a jacket, cardigan, scarf, or necklace–that ties everything together and makes it look even more deliberate.

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In Rome, people dress the seasons and not the weather.  (This did not seem to be the case at Hadrian’s Villa where it seemed to be acknowledged that wearing a jacket in 85 degree weather is ridiculous.)  Temps are finally cooling, but once mid-September hit, it was all jackets, scarves, and boots all the time.  Even when it was in the 80s.  Strangely, people do not seem to be uncomfortable.  Good for them.  I’d love to know the secret.  Probably something obvious like “be from a Mediterranean climate.”

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The print on this dress. I die!

Clothing pieces seem to be a little more special.  I think this contributes to the deliberate look that is put together.  I’ve noticed pieces with drape, asymmetry, extra zippers, bits of leather, or pockets that just give that little bit of pizzazz.

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For men, styles are generally tighter.  Pants and tops.  I see collars–polo or button-up–more often than not.  When no collar, a large amount of message or graphic tees.  I’ve seen this on both sexes but more for men: a sweater over the shoulders is a prevalent fall look.  Men of all ages wear scarves.

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Men of a certain age almost universally wear utility vests.  I’d like to know how this comes about that these men look ready to go fishing or sweep streets.  Do they hand them out at your retirement party?  “Ah, finalmente, I have space for my keys and tissues!”

But really, what do they put in all those pockets?  I saw a man with a utility vest AND a man bag once.  His umbrella didn’t fit, I guess?

I’m looking forward to seeing how utility vests are styled as it gets colder.  I saw a man with a windbreaker OVER his vest the other day.  Which seemed odd, but after greater inspection, makes sense because then you can take off the windbreaker.  And stuff it in one of your utility vest pockets.  I am also seeing some jackets that look like utility vests with sleeves.  Stay tuned!

Blurry, but an excellent representation of the vest. Many more vest pics to come.

Blurry, but an excellent representation of the vest. Many more vest pics to come.

On women, styles are both tighter and looser.  They like to play with proportion.  I have seen some amazing harem and parachute pants that would make Princess Jasmine envious.

I'm also seeing 3/4 length sleeved puffer coats. Sadly not pictured.

I’m also seeing 3/4 length sleeved puffer coats. Sadly not pictured.

Women of all ages have great style.  A friend described what they call the “fashion mullet” aka seeing someone who appears very young from the back based on their outfit, but is much older when turning around.  I haven’t noticed this as much, but maybe just because I want to be wearing tight pants and camo when I’m 80.  I saw a grandmother wearing a sheer shirt once, but she was definitely pulling it off.

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Romans do not wear hats.  (Other than moto helmets.)  I noticed because James usually wears baseball caps, and I was hunting for an Italian alternative.  There is not one.  This is true even for kids.  When Henry wears his hats, it means I can pick him out from across the playground.  If you see someone with a hat, this is a likely indication they are a tourist.

Do not be fooled by the hat the mannequin is holding. No one will buy it.

Do not be fooled by the hat the mannequin is holding. No one will buy it.

Or you can look at their shoes.  I have seen some fabulous shoes here.  Generally not on tourists who go for comfort above all else.  I have seen plenty of women in sky high heels and wonder how they navigate the city.  But I’ve seen other shoes that look more comfortable but still interesting.  There are plenty of boots out there now, natch.  See earlier statement about fall.

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More often than not, outfits are accessorized with a cigarette.  I truly don’t care if you smoke, but it is a peeve of mine when people walk down the sidewalk smoking.  It just makes it impossible to dodge.

I’m probably (definitely) deluding myself, but I don’t think I stick out that badly.  I like tight pants.  I’m not wearing tennis shoes.  I like jackets.  Just not in 80 degree weather.  But my pasty complexion will give me away every time.

Are things different? Glad you asked: Lifestyle Edition

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Differences around the house summarized here.

Before the move, I was a full-time associate at a law firm in DC.  Henry was in daycare full-time and Mac would have been headed that way.  Now, I’m home with both kids in Rome.  I’m enjoying it so far.  I enjoy it more because what I did before was so different.  I’m sure my thoughts on this will change, but here’s my biggest positive and negative to date.

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On the plus side, I’m more relaxed now.  I didn’t realize how draining I found it trying to get everyone places on time.  And it felt like we were always trying to get some place on time.  Rushing to get out the door in the mornings.  Rushing to make it to daycare on time before it closed.  Rushing to get home.  Even meeting up with friends on the weekends could feel like a chore to get out the door.

Now there are rarely places we have to be at certain times.  I like that.  We do have social engagements (not as fancy as that sounds), but they are pretty casual.  Also, many have been in a group setting so we aren’t making anyone wait if we are delayed.

Ditto for deadlines.  Work was–understandably–filled with deadlines.  Clients needed things at certain times.  That meant I either needed to finish it in time to send to the client or in time to send to the partner to review and send to the client.  Sometimes deadlines felt arbitrary.  But even arbitrary deadlines are important when someone is paying you for that timing.

Now my deadlines are my own.  And are more goals than deadlines.  I’m working to post here every weekday, but the world doesn’t end if I don’t.  I’d like to get a little more on top of tasks like emailing so and so, scheduling a photo shoot, booking trips, etc.  But these are all my tasks to do, and I get to decide when to do them.  Or when James gets to do them.

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I like that I can breathe a little easier.  But I do miss what I describe as “bodily autonomy.”  The ability to just take yourself by yourself wherever you’d like to go.  Before I had hours each day where I could do this.  Granted, I was usually just commuting, working, grabbing lunch, etc. but oh the freedom of movement!  Now, we were here more than two weeks before I used the stairs in our building.  Because every other time I had the stroller or a child strapped to me.  Getting out the door now requires packing the stuff and equipment to transport 50 pounds of children.  Even inside the house, things like bathroom trips are strategic.  You always have to know where all the players are on the field.  I remember now hearing other moms saying that sometimes they just didn’t want to be touched by the end of the day.  I get it now.  Oh, I get it.

I know that some of this I’m doing to myself.  If I wanted to head out alone, I could do more.  But when James comes home after work, it’s time for dinner.  And then bedtime.  Which I could skip.  But at the end of the day, I’m not usually jumping to go bounding out the door by myself.  Ditto for weekends.  I could definitely do more by myself, but this is family time.  I hate to miss it.  I’m sure things will change as they get a little older.  Until then, I’m working on putting together some ladies nights.  I registered for the lottery for the Berlin marathon to see if I can cross that off the travel list, and if I get in, that will mean plenty of solo training time.

So plenty of other differences, but those are my big two.  Anyone made a similar switch?  What was your biggest difference?

Things I say on a daily basis

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“Don’t squish Mac.”

“Stop squishing Mac.”

“Don’t lean on him.”

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“You can’t have pasta for breakfast.”

“You can’t have pretzels either.”

“New diaper!!”  (Said in the tone of a game show host announcing a new car.)

“We don’t kick Mommy.  We don’t kick Daddy.  Or Mac.  Or cars.  Sure, if you can reach the ceiling fan, you can kick it.”

“You have to walk or you can get in the stroller.  I can’t carry you now.”

“Yes, moto.  Yes, that’s a blue moto.  Big moto!”

“Henry, what are you doing?”

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“Dude, that’s a lot of spitup.”

“You did it!”

“Seriously, more spitup?  Where is it all coming from?”

“Thank you, Henry.  That’s very helpful.”

“We’re not watching Frozen right now.”

“We’re not watching Tigger right now.”

“We’re not watching Robin Hood right now.”

“Yes, Queen Elsa and Princess Anna are sisters.”

“Mas zooming!”

“Don’t kick your brother.”

“Don’t eat your brother.”

“Aww, that’s sweet.”

Are you frugal? Some random thoughts on stuff

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The rest of our stuff came last week.  Wave 3 of the attack, if you will.  I mentioned before, that I didn’t miss too much of it.  Now it is here.  I’m trying to convince myself that this is a good thing.  Or it will be.  Once we get it put away.  I think it will all fit.  Progress has been slow because, you know, KIDS.  And it feels like a shell game.  I need to put X in here, but I can’t because Y is in there, and I can’t move it until I sort Z and get it moved.  And so on and so forth.

My goal for this weekend is to at least get things out of Henry’s reach.  I miss before when he wasn’t randomly walking up and handing me an iron.  Or a flashlight.  Or my box of Christmas cards.

Living with less stuff really wasn’t hard.  I’d like to get back to that a little bit.  But I’m having the same problem I was when I tried to purge before our move.  Selecting the things you want to take is easy.  Looking at all the things and eliminating them is hard.  When I didn’t see this stuff, I really didn’t miss it.  But now–even though I didn’t need it for almost two months–I look at things and think I should keep them.  You know, just in case . . .

I asked James the other day if we are frugal.  The Frugal Girl has a funny post up about how to How to be an obnoxious money saver.  The comments are interesting.  I don’t identify with a lot of these things, particularly noticing price changes of a few cents.  I would never notice that.  My general philosophy is that I can buy whatever I want at the grocery store because it is much cheaper than eating out.  I mean, within reason, of course.  I’m not buying all filet mignon, foie gras, and crab legs.  But we don’t have a grocery budget.

I recognize that we are fortunate to be able to think this way.  I know not everyone can.  I know I may need to think that way some day.  Besides the other reasons I mention here, I think this is one of the reasons I haven’t hired any cleaning help yet.  We could afford help now.  But I think I want to try on what would be like if we couldn’t.  I don’t know what the next step is.  If we opt to do something very different with a very different income stream, I’d like to know what it feels like.  Is this a deal breaker, ladies?

One of my new friends here has asked a few times if we have been to the mall yet.  Nope.  Besides that whole driving thing, I’m just not that into it.  The kids are not super fun in stores.  And I know I want less stuff if I see less stuff.

Similarly, a new favorite blog is The Mom Edit.  The writing makes me laugh.  The pics are gorgeous.  It does give me outfit ideas.  But it also makes me want things.  I find myself with 5 new tabs open after reading a post before I talk myself down that, no, I do not need another gray sweater.

In Clutterfree with Kids, Joshua Becker talks about working towards minimalism after spending a day cleaning out his garage.  Let’s just say it was not the most fun day, and he wished he could have spent more of it with his son.  It was a realization that your stuff owns you.  You have to put it away.  Clean it.  Organize it.  Take care of it.  Right now I feel a little like the stuff is owning me.  I need to be vigilant about eliminating the things that don’t find homes.

So, no, I don’t really think of myself as frugal.  I don’t budget.  I spend money on kindle books without hesitation.  I’ll drop some money on a dinner out.  But I’m working towards less stuff.  And recognizing that putting myself in less opportunities to acquire stuff generally results in less stuff.  I definitely don’t want to be holier-than-thou like the obnoxious money savers above.  I do love stuff.  Particularly gray sweaters.  And gray pants.  And gray purses.  Yes, I have a problem.  I think the goal should be stuff that works for you.  Right now my stuff is not working for me.  Time to recalibrate.

What’s your “stuff” strategy?  Do you consider yourself frugal?

I get by with a little help from my friends

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Last week I was having one of those days.  You know the ones.  Nothing was catastrophically wrong, but the little things were adding up.  Our weekly babysitter/tutor cancelled last minute.  Again.  I had a lead on a replacement, but she flaked out after being very promising.  We started getting hassled about our parking situation, which was doubly frustrating because I thought it was taken care of.  We had to get ready for the rest of our stuff to arrive.  I felt like I should be planning something to take advantage of the long weekend.  So, you see, nothing major.  Nothing un-handle-able.  But the combo was bringing me down.  And this was even before I found out that the battery on our car was dead.

The boys and I were at the playground, providing sustenance for what felt like a battalion of mosquitoes.  I started playing the “how can I lure Henry inside” game in my head.  See, to motivate him, you generally need to have a more attractive option to offer.  “Go outside” is pretty high up the ladder.  The only things more motivating are really food and TV.  But food doesn’t always work and TV is generally more hassle than it is worth getting him to stop.

So I’m out of sorts and gearing myself up for a negotiation with a two-year-old.  I surprised myself and decided we should visit one of our neighbors.  A very nice lady with two girls, one of whom would be at school.  She had mentioned a few times that we should drop by whenever.  I hated to show up unannounced, but she offered, right?

She welcomed us in with open arms.  She sympathized with understanding about babysitters and parking.  She made delicious frappuccinos, which was the official end of my whole30 reset.  Henry had a blast with his pal and her new toys.  We were only there about an hour, but I felt like I could breathe again.

While we were upstairs visiting, I got a text from another neighbor asking about lunch or coffee.  She came over while the kids were napping and we had a fine time chatting on the balcony.

This was the day of the playgroup another neighbor and I started.  So that afternoon I got to hang out with three other moms.

The next day, I got two separate recommendations for other babysitters from my gang.

And once we realized that the car was dead, crushing my nonexistent travel plans, other neighbors hooked up our battery to their fancy charging machine overnight, allowing us to go on our first day trip by car.  (Hadrian’s Villa in Tivoli.  More on this soon.)

We haven’t even been here two months, but we’ve really met some wonderful people.  On this no-good-very-bad-day, I was grateful for my network and humbled that I even have a network at all.  It also reminds me to work on being a better friend.  We don’t really have the cool toys or the good snacks here, but I need to keep reaching out and being supportive in my own way.

 

Mac is 5 months

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Dear Mac,

I can’t believe you are five months already.  After I spent two months telling everyone you were four months old, I can’t seem to advance your age now.  You are just squeezing into your 3-6 months outfits, and I don’t think that will fly much longer.  You are almost 18 pounds.

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You are so happy.  Everyone who sees you comments that you never cry.  Which isn’t exactly true, but you are usually cheerful to be outside and excited to see people.  Even though you are teething hard right now, you would hardly know, aside from all the drool, as you are such a good sport about it.

Before I forget or they morph again, I wanted to share some of your nicknames.  Although your brother’s nicknames mostly derived from Henry-kins (Kinz, Kensington, etc.) or “Squeaks,” yours come from “Squish.”  So you have Squishimi, Squishimus, Squishipuss, and my recent reversing, Pusslesquish.  Your dad calls you Mackleton and Mackle Tackle.  I am guilty of calling you Big Mac, Smacks, Smack, and similar and apologize profusely for drug-related nicknames.  #smackiswhack

Kind of looks like a minion here, right?

Kind of looks like a minion here, right?

You rolled today!  Front to back.  You had a five month appointment at the doctor, because apparently that is a thing here, and you rolled for the first time.  It was as if on command.  Show off!  Everyone at the doctor was charmed by your squish and smiles, even though you skipped your morning nap.

You have quite the grip.  You can manipulate toys like nobody’s business.  We’ll wait a tiny bit more on solids, but I think you will be ready.  You have been enjoying spoon/fork time and you are about to grab all the food off our plates.  You are still getting up around once a night.  I keep hoping that maybe solids will help on that.  We shall see!

Ball so hard

Ball so hard

Love, Mom