No words.

Other than these:  Thanks, Jocelyn.

Hope you have rumpled hair, a sweet polo shirt, and snacks with friends today.

Talk soon,
Heather

the fray

A few weeks ago, I did something I do.not.do.often.enough.

I went out.  Of the house.  Without the baby.  For fun.  Of my own choosing.

Jess and I went to Stubb's and saw The Fray.  Lindsay met up with us there.  It was awesome.

You've got to love Austin for its mega real life approach.  As we waited for the show to start, we realized that we could see the Fray chilling pre-show from where we were standing.  And we were all, Oh look!  Hi, Fray!

The concert was good.

And so was the company.

I should probably, really, definitely do that "see music or do some other fun thing with friends and no children to save your sanity and make you a better mother and all-around person" thing more often.

You know?

Talk soon,
Heather

aunt rin

Over the weekend, we got to see one of our favorite people, Jack's Aunt Rinnie, who visited us from New Orleans.

She's getting married in November.  More on that, oh, in November.  (Adam, you're safe til then.)

We were having too much fun to take many pictures, but we did get this one.

Hope your weekend was full of grins and sippys, as well.

Talk soon,

Heather

For the mama

On Mother's Day, I made dinner for my parents. 

I planned the menu to include all of my sweet mom's favorite things.

We started with appetizers:  Spanish olives, pimiento cheese, cheese log, spinach dip, soppressata, carrots and crackers.  Yummy.

Pardon the disarray of serving dishes.  We are moving, after all.

For the main event, I was so busy running around the kitchen, that I didn't take pictures.  Well, I took this one of the lamb before I popped it into the oven.

Anyway, here's the menu:

• Roast Leg of Lamb (Courtesy of Emeril.  I didn't make the sauce because Mom likes her lamb with mint jelly.  Don't judge til you've tried it.)
• Macaroni and cheese (Courtesy of Alton Brown.  This recipe rocks.)
• Peas (Mom's favorite vegetable.)
• Fresh Asparagus (Mom's second favorite vegetable.)

One of Mom's most favorite desserts is peppermint stick ice cream, preferably with chocolate sauce.  You know what?  That is Hard To Find.  I toyed with the idea of making it, and had found a recipe and everything.  But, on the day of the dinner, I realized that I had to stop myself from being too much of an overachiever.  As in, "Heather, you are packing your house to move and have a 2 year old.  Perhaps today is not the day to attempt making ice cream."  

I decided to get whatever ice cream looked good at the grocery store and just go with it.  (I figured that after the leg of lamb, I'd be covered, and ice cream is good, period.)

Lo and behold, the awesome Texas Blue Bell came through for me.  I could not believe my eyes.

Now, here's the confession.  I had never eaten peppermint stick ice cream with chocolate sauce.  I don't eat a lot of ice cream.  I like it, but whatever.  So, I didn't think this sounded particularly awesome.  But, what Mom wants, Mom gets, right?

Well, I WAS WRONG.  Let me be the first to tell you:  Peppermint stick ice cream with chocolate sauce (not Hershey's; get the good stuff in a jar) is AWESOME.

Mom was over the moon.  We all were, in fact, because dinner was delicious, if I do say so myself. 

Mothers' Day is really special to me now that I am a mom.  I realize just what goes into motherhood.  It's like taking it all to another level:  love, worry, joy, responsibility, poop.  All of it, just ratcheted up a big notch.  So, it was special to me to feel honored while honoring my mom, who, bless her heart, raised four of us, boiled glass baby bottles, and used cloth diapers for us all.

[BOWING DOWN]

Thanks to all the mamas, especially mine.

Talk later,

Heather

Moving

Our little clan is moving to a bigger house in a ... really soon.

We will have enough space for all of our Very Important Things.  

We will have enough space for all of our Activities.

And it's a cool house.

Of course, that means I am getting wickedly nostalgic for our current, soon-to-be old house.  

But, it's our first house that we BOUGHT!  

It's the only house Jack has ever LIVED IN!  

It's where he played BASEBALL for the first time!

Our backyard is AWESOME!

I'm right, of course.  All of these things are true of our current/first/soon to be "old" house.  Being an emotional type means that I get to feel this way, right before I am swept up in a tidal wave of excitement for the new/second/bigger/cool house.  It's, um, part of the process.  If you're me.

Also, Durel feeds me a margarita from time to time.  That helps.

With that, the packing continues.

Talk soon,

Heather

Boy

Jack used to be a baby.

Goo goo, ga ga.  Pureed pears and all that.  You know.

Now, he's a boy.

Baseball.  Hitting the tee ball like a pro the Very First Time he tries it.  And all that.  You know.

Woah, time.  Easy, OK?

Talk soon,
Heather

What you're into

Before I became a mom, I didn't know how to talk to people about their children.  I had no idea at what ages you crawl, walk, ride a bike, lie about your age to get on Facebook, etc. 

So, I started asking my parent-friends, sincerely but obliquely, "So, what is [Kiddo] into these days?"

I found that open-ended question to work like magic.  Parents lurve talking about their kids.  Any expression of interest is usually enough to kick off a good conversation.

Now that I am a mom, I've realized that's actually a pretty good question.  I like when people ask me that.  I try not to ramble on like someone whose brain has been eaten by their toddler.  I try to keep it short, sweet, and to the point.

If you asked me that today, I would say:  Trucks and dinosaurs.

What would you say?

Talk soon,
Heather

Really Perky Earworms

Jack now officially DANCES to the Fresh Beat Band.

It's so cute!  And so awesome that he loves music!

For those of you in the know, yes, that's the *new* Marina.

For those of you who are not parents or who have not had the pleasure, the Fresh Beat Band is a "children's show where four fun and musical friends solve problems through music."

Confession:  I enjoy the Fresh Beat Band.  It's catchy, man.

Truth:  They are also serious earworms.  As in, hours after Jack has gone to bed, during wine-drinking, grown up time, I hear them in my head.

Motherhood is full of joy.  And really perky earworms.

Oh yes, I did.

Talk soon,
Heather

On time.

I ran into a friend the other day.  She's a working mom of two and pretty impeccable lady.  We were discussing the new things the kids are doing, what we're doing, the quick rundown of life's flurried activities.

And then she said, "I told my husband, I just need one more hour in the day."

I nodded fervently.   Part of my brain spiraled off, imagining what I would do with a magical 25th hour.  Run marathons, write novels, learn languages.  Who knows?

She continued, "And he told me that I have the exact same amount of time in each day that Einstein, Gandhi, and George Washington had."

Crap.  I'd been hit with a truth bomb.

I can't get it out of my head, though.  And since then, I've been thinking about time.  How much we have.  How much we get.  And how we use it.

I found this article entitled, Are You As Busy As You Think?  (Already I know the answer, right?)

You should read it.  But here are a few excerpts, if you think you don't have time.  (Touche.)

We all have the same 168 hours per week -- a number few people contemplate even as they talk about "24-7" with abandon -- but since time passes whether we acknowledge it or not, we seldom think through exactly how we're spending our hours.

Checking Facebook five times a day at six minutes a pop adds up to two-and-a-half hours in a workweek -- curiously, the exact amount of time the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention recommends we exercise.

Instead of saying "I don't have time" try saying "it's not a priority," and see how that feels. Often, that's a perfectly adequate explanation. I have time to iron my sheets, I just don't want to. But other things are harder. Try it: "I'm not going to edit your résumé, sweetie, because it's not a priority." "I don't go to the doctor because my health is not a priority." If these phrases don't sit well, that's the point. Changing our language reminds us that time is a choice. If we don't like how we're spending an hour, we can choose differently.

168 hours a week.  Do you know what that makes me think?  This is why babies aren't babies for that long. Weeks are whizzing by because they are only 168 hours long.  Time to get down on the floor and play cars and dinosaurs.  NOW.

Facebook time = exercise time.  Do you know what that makes me think?  So long, Facebook.  You'll be seeing me a lot less.  I can't afford you anymore.

Choosing how we spend our time = so simple and so true.  And being honest when we explain what we don't "have" or "make" time for?  That is powerful stuff.

Here's to clocks, time, honesty, and priorities.

Talk later,
Heather

What we're talking about these days.

If you drop in on us, here are the things you'll here Jack saying these days:

[sound of airplane overhead]  HI, AIRPLANE!  [waves at sky; pauses] BYE, AIRPLANE! 

Lucy!  High five, Lucy!  [I am working on teaching our beleaguered pup to oblige.] 

Outside?  Go down slide?  Outside!   

Basketball?  Play basketball?  BASKETBALL! 

Sit, Momma. [I sit.]  Get up, Momma! 

NO shoes!  No like!  NOOOOSHOOOOOOOOOOES!

Water!  More water! 

As you can see, we live with an adorable tyrant who likes basketball and does not care for shoes.

Talk soon,
Heather

Gigs

It's never been a secret to me that Durel works hard.

However, if I had been under a rock for the past, oh, ten years of our lives and missed that little nugget, I would have figured it out in the past few months.

Last week, Austin's new Microsoft retail store opened.  And, take note, corporate folks in Redmond, you have my awesome husband to thank.

Hey.  I'm on Instagram:  hdbernard.

I came to cheer Durel on for the grand opening because he rocks, like, a lot.

Computers are fun!

Friends are fun!

And so are big life moments that you can share with your friends and spouse.

Talk soon,
Heather

PS:  Yes, I think I am super funny and clever by making a pun in the title.  And yes, I know that puns are the lowest form of humor.

I can't stand how awesome this is.

I've read Zen Habits for a while, because it's awesome.  Every now and then, there is a post that takes my breath away with how beautiful and true it is.  This is one of them.

There's nothing to add to it.  Here it is.  Enjoy.  (Oh, I did highlight my favorite-y favorite part.)

Have an awesome day knowing that right where you are is the right place to be.

Talk soon,

Heather

[Reproduced from ZenHabits, courtesy of Leo Babauta.]


The 39th Lesson

Post written by Leo Babauta.

Today (April 30) is my 39th Un-un-birthday, and as usual, the day is a good day to pause and reflect.

Last year I wrote 38 Life Lessons I’ve Learned in 38 Years, and people seemed to find some use in it.

This year, I thought I’d share an additional lesson I’ve learned:

You’re not missing out.

Our lives are often ruled by the Fear of Missing Out, or FOMO. (Never heard of FOMO? You’re missing out.)

Some ways we let the fear of missing out rule us:

1. We check email, Facebook, Twitter and other social networks often, in case we’re missing something important.
2. We try and do the most exciting things, and are constantly in search of exciting things, because we’re worried we might miss out on the fun that others are having.
3. We constantly read about what other people are doing, and try to emulate them, because it sounds like they’re doing something great that we’re not.
4. We often want to travel the world, because it seems that other people are living amazing lives by traveling all the time.
5. We miss what we don’t have, miss places and people who we aren’t with.
6. We work constantly, because we think if we don’t, we might miss out on opportunities other people will get.
7. We feel like our own lives are poor in comparison with the great lives others are leading, and so feel bad about ourselves.

I could go on and on, but I have a birthday breakfast to eat (Eva and the kids are baking something delicious), so I’ll stop there.

We fear missing out, but why?

The truth is, we could run around trying to do everything exciting, and travel around the world, and always stay in touch with our iPhones and Crackberries, and work and party all day long without sleep … but we could never do it all. We will always be missing something.

And so, if we cannot help missing out, what is a saner alternative than letting this fear drive us? Let go of it, and realize you have everything right now.

The best in life isn’t somewhere else. It’s right where you are, at this moment. There is nothing better than exactly that.

Pause for just 10 seconds, and notice where you are, what you’re doing, who you are, at this very moment. Notice that you are breathing, and how lovely that is. Notice that you can smile, and feel the joy in that. Notice the good things around you. Give thanks for the people you’ve seen today. Celebrate the perhaps not altogether insignificant fact that you are alive.

This moment, and who you are, is absolutely perfect.

You are missing nothing, because there is nothing better.

You can breathe, and let go of all that fear of missing out, and be happy with what you have. Be grateful, and each moment think not about what you’re missing, but what you’ve been given.

This past year has been my best ever, because each day I have celebrated my Un-birthday with a smile and warmth in my heart. Today, I celebrate my non-un-birthday, and it is perfect. This moment I have spent talking to you is a gift. Thank you, my friends.

Never say it.

When I was pregnant with Jack (who was known as Cheeseburger at the time), a colleague gave us this advice:

Never say the words "I can't wait until..."

We all do it.

"Oh, this is great, but I can't wait until he's crawling/walking/talking/potty trained/not obsessed with sticking his fingers in the dogs' eyes, etc."

What we're really doing, though, is wishing time away.

"Let's hurry up and get to the next thing.  This is cool, but I am impatient."

That colleague had lost their beloved child.  They showed incredible grace and strength by being excited for and supportive of us, despite their loss.  They gave us that advice because their own experience had put it in harsh relief.

We made a pact to never use those words.  And we do not.

And you know what?  Every second is a joy when you think that way.

Talk soon,
Heather