BatChristmas, 2013

Monday, December 30, 2013

I hope you had a fantastic holiday.

We did.  In no particular order, I will remember this Christmas as the one with a lot of homemade candy, turkey, and Batman.

(Note:  I hadn't actually made fudge before.  I made it on Christmas Eve. I didn't broadcast that it was my first attempt in life at making fudge.  I attempted to vibe out an air of expertise on the matter, actually.  And it must have worked because apparently, it was quite good.  Because, compliments aside, it was eaten.)

(Note:  I am a stalwart defender of the baked turkey.  Aside from the obvious issue that fried turkey gives me flashbacks to my Torts exam in law school, which are certain to last forever in something which may or may not resemble emotional distress, I just don't see the point in the extra calories.  But you couldn't have told me that as we gobbled (intended) the fried turkey as soon as it came out of the fryer.  A point which Durel hastened to make.  I think I actually growled at him.)

As for the Batman stuff, well...


This photo has, starting at the top and going clockwise:  insane Christmas morning hair, Superman Underoos, the BatBoat, Ironman sneakers, and the Gotham City prison.  This is serious, people.


This one has, clockwise from the top:  the BatBoat, Gotham City prison, (partially obscured) BatCave, and in the center, the BatStare.


This one features Tow Mater pajamas (soon to become hopelessly uncool, I suspect), and the BatBook (which I will soon have memorized).


And, to round it out, we have the BatSmile and the BatJammies.

Also, despite the fact that Jack has never seen the Adam West Batman show, he's learned that the right thing to say when you race around your grandparents' house with the BatBoat is:  "Nananananananana nananananananana BATMAN!"

Because, how can you not?


Hope your new shoes make you feel like a superhero today.

Talk soon,
Heather

laser beams and salad bars: a pregnancy update

Friday, December 20, 2013

Every evening when I come home from work, my sweet husband greets me with two questions:

1.  How are you?
2.  How is your urge to kill?

He asks this because he cares deeply about both answers. (Out of both love and self-preservation, I presume.)  Both answers will also clue him into what we may be having for dinner, how soon I'm going to bed, and how many people I roasted with my laser beam eyes of hormonal hate that day.

*     *     *     *     *

The bump is growing.  Most of the time, I love that.  Sometimes, at the end of a long day, I know I'm already waddling, which I do not love.  

But then the bump kicks me, and I love it again, waddle and all.

*     *     *     *     *

Commentary on the size of the bump is increasing in a proportionate ratio to the bump's size.  This week, these things were all said to me:

1.  You are looking very motherly today!
2.  You wear your pregnancy very well.
3.  OHMYGOD, you are getting SO BIG!

Two of these comments made me smile with pregnancy radiance.  One of these comments made me feel hormonal hate.  I will leave it to you to decipher which comment elicited the rage.

*     *     *     *     *

Luckily for me, Jack's curiosity (in general, too, but I mean about the baby) has not reached a level where I am not sure how to answer him.

Jack:     Why is the baby in there?
Me:       In my tummy?
Jack:     Yeah.
Me:       Because that's where babies come from.  From mommies' tummies.

(Obviously, the next question could be "How did the baby get there?"  I am very glad he didn't ask that.)

(Side note:  How did that whole stork thing start?  Isn't that an odd way to get around answering the procreation question?)

*     *     *     *     *

For the record, today is a good day.  My urge to kill is not dormant, but is minimal.  The woman who bumped into me at the Whole Foods salad bar and then gave ME stink eye, while carefully placing ONE PIECE of roast zucchini in her container, next to the ONE PIECE of broccoli, could easily have been a victim.  But that salad bar is so glorious that I refrained.  Nothing ugly should happen next to that many organic vegetables.


Hope you're wearing something well today.

Talk soon,
Heather

life lessons from the grinch

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

We DVR'ed The Grinch from TV when it was on a few weeks ago.  It was kind of an afterthought, as I rushed to hit the button, thinking, "Ooh, this could be a DVD that I don't have to buy."  If Jack likes it, that is.

(Side note:  Meet the Parents was on right before the Grinch started.  So, at the beginning of the recording, we have ten seconds of Ben Stiller doing his kung fu moves into the hidden camera -- remember that bit?  I maintain that it's some of Ben Stiller's finest work, because in every other thing he does, he's visibly trying too hard.  It makes him seem constipated in some fundamental way.  But, I digress.)

Anyway, Jack not only likes the Grinch.

Jack LOVES HIM SOME GRINCH.

In an effort to make sure Jack understood the meaning of the Grinch, Durel and I asked Jack what he thought it was about.

Jack:     I don't know.

Me, hopeful still:     Jack, what is the meaning of Christmas?

Jack:     PRESENTS!!

Me:      What the Grinch means is that Christmas isn't about presents.  It means that Christmas is in our hearts.

Jack:     [silence]

Me:     Jack, where is Christmas?

Jack, obligingly:    In our hearts.

I mean, I'll take it.  Right?  Also, I learned that the Grinch has taught us other things.  Last night, I made barbecue chicken for dinner.  (Crock pot.  Delicious, if I say so myself.)  I cut some up and gave it to Jack, who promptly scrunched up his nose.

Jack:     I don't like that.

Me:       It's barbecue chicken!  Try it.

Jack:     No.

Me:       It's roast beast, Jack.

Jack:     ROAST BEAST!  [begins gobbling]

So, there you have it.

1.  Roast beast is delicious.


2.  Christmas is in our hearts.


Hope your day involves unexpected kung fu AND roast beast.

Talk soon,
Heather

from whence this blog came...

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

About four years ago, I found my pregnant self, parked in a leather recliner in our house, looking for something to do.

I was pregnant with Jack then, who we didn't know was Jack, so instead was called Cheeseburger. 

I was on bed rest, and very close to maxing out on episodes of What Not To Wear, so I decided to start a blog.

I also wrote another blog at the time, which has since been put to rest, but that's another story.

This blog, however, is going strong.  And since I have't come right out and said so, per se, GeauxBaby is about to be about more than one little.

You see...


There are a few things I can tell you about this:

-- In keeping with our tradition of nicknames based on cravings, this little one is known as Chilito.  This is because Durel makes awesome chili, and I force him to make it for me at least every other weekend.

-- I eat said chili over top of a bed of pasta (angel hair is my favorite), with shredded cheese, diced jalapenos, and a dollop of sour cream on top.  Every time I eat it, I behave like a caveman, yes, but I also reminisce about good times had at Hard Times in Alexandria, Virginia.

-- The expression on my face in the picture above is a mixture of total excitement and joy, mixed with the realization that my bump ain't small, folks.

-- I have heartburn.  

-- Yesterday, I texted Durel to warn him that I  needed dessert, and that if I did not get it, I might become homicidal.

-- He brought dessert.  (He's smart.)

-- Jack is pretty nonchalant about becoming a big brother.  He is more excited about Christmas and his birthday.  Prioritizing parties and presents over poopy diapers does indicate his brilliance and pragmatism.

-- This second child is long-awaited and much anticipated.  I am one lucky lady.  

-- Chilito is a boy.  I'm ready for soccer games galore!  Yay!

Hope you get dessert today.  It's really good.

Talk soon,
Heather

things overheard at our house

Monday, December 9, 2013

It's busy times, folks.

Durel and I are both super busy at work.  Jack is busy anticipating Christmas.  We are buying presents, getting our home ready for guests, decorating, and the like.  (We also make time for cuddling on the couch in our pajamas and watching excellent things like Monsters, Inc. and the Grinch.)

Jack is extremely busy saying things that amuse and surprise us.

Here are a few:

From top to bottom:  Sully, Mike Wazowski, and Boo.  FYI.

Jack:  I want to name the baby "Boo."
Me:   OK, well if we don't name the baby, "Boo," what else would you name it?
Jack:  Mike.
Me:    Mike Wazowski?
Jack:  [with what can only be described as a withering look]  NO.  Mike BERNARD.

*     *     *     *     *

(About five times a day, at full volume):  CHRISTMAS IS AAAAALLLLLLMOST COMING!!!

*     *     *     *     *

(When I was sick in bed the other day):  Do you want to read a book all by yourself?  Here.
(Hands me a book from my nightstand.)

*     *     *     *     *

Mom, Lucy's going to dress up as Darth Vader.

Not sure Lucy minds being villified, if it gets her pettings.
*     *     *     *     *

Mom.  HEY MOM.  Momma!  Moooommmmmyyyy....  MOM!

*     *     *     *     *

Mom.  Hey Mom.  Mom!  I want a pickle!  Mmm nom nom nom nom I LOVE PICKLES.



Hope your day is both salty and sweet.

Talk soon,
Heather

ain't nobody got time for that

Friday, December 6, 2013

There is no Elf on the Shelf at our house.  

(Editor's Note:  Elf on the Shelf = recent cultural phenomenon where you take a toy elf, give it a nickname, and move it into different places in your home every morning to make your children believe that it's watching them and reporting back to Santa on whether they are naughty or nice.)

You (the family) give your elf a fun name, like Candy Cane, or Rudolph, or Bing Crosby, and then you (the parent) move them around each night.  You (the parent) are supposed to be creative.




I love my family.  I love Christmas.  Beyond words.

But, you know what?  I am not doing this.  I will forget.  I will not be creative.  Is it really necessary?  Is that elf a little creepy?  Do we need it?  

Instead, I snagged a picture of myself with Santa at Christmas Affair.  It's on my phone.  I showed it to Jack and told him that Santa and I are buddies, and that I could call him at any moment if Jack was being naughty.


I mean, I think that's pretty creative, and it doesn't involve me smearing Nutella on a doll's face when I'd really rather be sleeping.

Also, when you're 5 months pregnant, you try to streamline things, and you tend to be a little more blunt than usual.  So, there's also that.

Hope you find a way to keep it real today.

Talk soon,
Heather


yes, I know it's December

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

We have two Christmas trees and one Advent calendar in full effect at our house.

We ate a lot of turkey and pie.

But before I move onto those things, I have to, just have to, share these pictures from Halloween.  Because I forgot and they're AWESOME.

And Jack is obsessed with all things super (including The Incredibles), and so it's late but apropos, anyway.  (Did you know that's how you spell apropos?  Not "apros pos", as I originally tried it?  Huh.)


Not sure how I did this, but it looks like he's TAKING FLIGHT.  Right?

Did you know Superman and Batman are besties?  I did.

Seriously.  Stopping crime in its tracks with sheer cuteness.

OK.  I'm back on track now.

Hope your day involves getting caught up on something totally important.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, December 30, 2013

BatChristmas, 2013

I hope you had a fantastic holiday.

We did.  In no particular order, I will remember this Christmas as the one with a lot of homemade candy, turkey, and Batman.

(Note:  I hadn't actually made fudge before.  I made it on Christmas Eve. I didn't broadcast that it was my first attempt in life at making fudge.  I attempted to vibe out an air of expertise on the matter, actually.  And it must have worked because apparently, it was quite good.  Because, compliments aside, it was eaten.)

(Note:  I am a stalwart defender of the baked turkey.  Aside from the obvious issue that fried turkey gives me flashbacks to my Torts exam in law school, which are certain to last forever in something which may or may not resemble emotional distress, I just don't see the point in the extra calories.  But you couldn't have told me that as we gobbled (intended) the fried turkey as soon as it came out of the fryer.  A point which Durel hastened to make.  I think I actually growled at him.)

As for the Batman stuff, well...


This photo has, starting at the top and going clockwise:  insane Christmas morning hair, Superman Underoos, the BatBoat, Ironman sneakers, and the Gotham City prison.  This is serious, people.


This one has, clockwise from the top:  the BatBoat, Gotham City prison, (partially obscured) BatCave, and in the center, the BatStare.


This one features Tow Mater pajamas (soon to become hopelessly uncool, I suspect), and the BatBook (which I will soon have memorized).


And, to round it out, we have the BatSmile and the BatJammies.

Also, despite the fact that Jack has never seen the Adam West Batman show, he's learned that the right thing to say when you race around your grandparents' house with the BatBoat is:  "Nananananananana nananananananana BATMAN!"

Because, how can you not?


Hope your new shoes make you feel like a superhero today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, December 20, 2013

laser beams and salad bars: a pregnancy update

Every evening when I come home from work, my sweet husband greets me with two questions:

1.  How are you?
2.  How is your urge to kill?

He asks this because he cares deeply about both answers. (Out of both love and self-preservation, I presume.)  Both answers will also clue him into what we may be having for dinner, how soon I'm going to bed, and how many people I roasted with my laser beam eyes of hormonal hate that day.

*     *     *     *     *

The bump is growing.  Most of the time, I love that.  Sometimes, at the end of a long day, I know I'm already waddling, which I do not love.  

But then the bump kicks me, and I love it again, waddle and all.

*     *     *     *     *

Commentary on the size of the bump is increasing in a proportionate ratio to the bump's size.  This week, these things were all said to me:

1.  You are looking very motherly today!
2.  You wear your pregnancy very well.
3.  OHMYGOD, you are getting SO BIG!

Two of these comments made me smile with pregnancy radiance.  One of these comments made me feel hormonal hate.  I will leave it to you to decipher which comment elicited the rage.

*     *     *     *     *

Luckily for me, Jack's curiosity (in general, too, but I mean about the baby) has not reached a level where I am not sure how to answer him.

Jack:     Why is the baby in there?
Me:       In my tummy?
Jack:     Yeah.
Me:       Because that's where babies come from.  From mommies' tummies.

(Obviously, the next question could be "How did the baby get there?"  I am very glad he didn't ask that.)

(Side note:  How did that whole stork thing start?  Isn't that an odd way to get around answering the procreation question?)

*     *     *     *     *

For the record, today is a good day.  My urge to kill is not dormant, but is minimal.  The woman who bumped into me at the Whole Foods salad bar and then gave ME stink eye, while carefully placing ONE PIECE of roast zucchini in her container, next to the ONE PIECE of broccoli, could easily have been a victim.  But that salad bar is so glorious that I refrained.  Nothing ugly should happen next to that many organic vegetables.


Hope you're wearing something well today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

life lessons from the grinch

We DVR'ed The Grinch from TV when it was on a few weeks ago.  It was kind of an afterthought, as I rushed to hit the button, thinking, "Ooh, this could be a DVD that I don't have to buy."  If Jack likes it, that is.

(Side note:  Meet the Parents was on right before the Grinch started.  So, at the beginning of the recording, we have ten seconds of Ben Stiller doing his kung fu moves into the hidden camera -- remember that bit?  I maintain that it's some of Ben Stiller's finest work, because in every other thing he does, he's visibly trying too hard.  It makes him seem constipated in some fundamental way.  But, I digress.)

Anyway, Jack not only likes the Grinch.

Jack LOVES HIM SOME GRINCH.

In an effort to make sure Jack understood the meaning of the Grinch, Durel and I asked Jack what he thought it was about.

Jack:     I don't know.

Me, hopeful still:     Jack, what is the meaning of Christmas?

Jack:     PRESENTS!!

Me:      What the Grinch means is that Christmas isn't about presents.  It means that Christmas is in our hearts.

Jack:     [silence]

Me:     Jack, where is Christmas?

Jack, obligingly:    In our hearts.

I mean, I'll take it.  Right?  Also, I learned that the Grinch has taught us other things.  Last night, I made barbecue chicken for dinner.  (Crock pot.  Delicious, if I say so myself.)  I cut some up and gave it to Jack, who promptly scrunched up his nose.

Jack:     I don't like that.

Me:       It's barbecue chicken!  Try it.

Jack:     No.

Me:       It's roast beast, Jack.

Jack:     ROAST BEAST!  [begins gobbling]

So, there you have it.

1.  Roast beast is delicious.


2.  Christmas is in our hearts.


Hope your day involves unexpected kung fu AND roast beast.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

from whence this blog came...

About four years ago, I found my pregnant self, parked in a leather recliner in our house, looking for something to do.

I was pregnant with Jack then, who we didn't know was Jack, so instead was called Cheeseburger. 

I was on bed rest, and very close to maxing out on episodes of What Not To Wear, so I decided to start a blog.

I also wrote another blog at the time, which has since been put to rest, but that's another story.

This blog, however, is going strong.  And since I have't come right out and said so, per se, GeauxBaby is about to be about more than one little.

You see...


There are a few things I can tell you about this:

-- In keeping with our tradition of nicknames based on cravings, this little one is known as Chilito.  This is because Durel makes awesome chili, and I force him to make it for me at least every other weekend.

-- I eat said chili over top of a bed of pasta (angel hair is my favorite), with shredded cheese, diced jalapenos, and a dollop of sour cream on top.  Every time I eat it, I behave like a caveman, yes, but I also reminisce about good times had at Hard Times in Alexandria, Virginia.

-- The expression on my face in the picture above is a mixture of total excitement and joy, mixed with the realization that my bump ain't small, folks.

-- I have heartburn.  

-- Yesterday, I texted Durel to warn him that I  needed dessert, and that if I did not get it, I might become homicidal.

-- He brought dessert.  (He's smart.)

-- Jack is pretty nonchalant about becoming a big brother.  He is more excited about Christmas and his birthday.  Prioritizing parties and presents over poopy diapers does indicate his brilliance and pragmatism.

-- This second child is long-awaited and much anticipated.  I am one lucky lady.  

-- Chilito is a boy.  I'm ready for soccer games galore!  Yay!

Hope you get dessert today.  It's really good.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, December 9, 2013

things overheard at our house

It's busy times, folks.

Durel and I are both super busy at work.  Jack is busy anticipating Christmas.  We are buying presents, getting our home ready for guests, decorating, and the like.  (We also make time for cuddling on the couch in our pajamas and watching excellent things like Monsters, Inc. and the Grinch.)

Jack is extremely busy saying things that amuse and surprise us.

Here are a few:

From top to bottom:  Sully, Mike Wazowski, and Boo.  FYI.

Jack:  I want to name the baby "Boo."
Me:   OK, well if we don't name the baby, "Boo," what else would you name it?
Jack:  Mike.
Me:    Mike Wazowski?
Jack:  [with what can only be described as a withering look]  NO.  Mike BERNARD.

*     *     *     *     *

(About five times a day, at full volume):  CHRISTMAS IS AAAAALLLLLLMOST COMING!!!

*     *     *     *     *

(When I was sick in bed the other day):  Do you want to read a book all by yourself?  Here.
(Hands me a book from my nightstand.)

*     *     *     *     *

Mom, Lucy's going to dress up as Darth Vader.

Not sure Lucy minds being villified, if it gets her pettings.
*     *     *     *     *

Mom.  HEY MOM.  Momma!  Moooommmmmyyyy....  MOM!

*     *     *     *     *

Mom.  Hey Mom.  Mom!  I want a pickle!  Mmm nom nom nom nom I LOVE PICKLES.



Hope your day is both salty and sweet.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, December 6, 2013

ain't nobody got time for that

There is no Elf on the Shelf at our house.  

(Editor's Note:  Elf on the Shelf = recent cultural phenomenon where you take a toy elf, give it a nickname, and move it into different places in your home every morning to make your children believe that it's watching them and reporting back to Santa on whether they are naughty or nice.)

You (the family) give your elf a fun name, like Candy Cane, or Rudolph, or Bing Crosby, and then you (the parent) move them around each night.  You (the parent) are supposed to be creative.




I love my family.  I love Christmas.  Beyond words.

But, you know what?  I am not doing this.  I will forget.  I will not be creative.  Is it really necessary?  Is that elf a little creepy?  Do we need it?  

Instead, I snagged a picture of myself with Santa at Christmas Affair.  It's on my phone.  I showed it to Jack and told him that Santa and I are buddies, and that I could call him at any moment if Jack was being naughty.


I mean, I think that's pretty creative, and it doesn't involve me smearing Nutella on a doll's face when I'd really rather be sleeping.

Also, when you're 5 months pregnant, you try to streamline things, and you tend to be a little more blunt than usual.  So, there's also that.

Hope you find a way to keep it real today.

Talk soon,
Heather


Tuesday, December 3, 2013

yes, I know it's December

We have two Christmas trees and one Advent calendar in full effect at our house.

We ate a lot of turkey and pie.

But before I move onto those things, I have to, just have to, share these pictures from Halloween.  Because I forgot and they're AWESOME.

And Jack is obsessed with all things super (including The Incredibles), and so it's late but apropos, anyway.  (Did you know that's how you spell apropos?  Not "apros pos", as I originally tried it?  Huh.)


Not sure how I did this, but it looks like he's TAKING FLIGHT.  Right?

Did you know Superman and Batman are besties?  I did.

Seriously.  Stopping crime in its tracks with sheer cuteness.

OK.  I'm back on track now.

Hope your day involves getting caught up on something totally important.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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