the modern dad

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Durel was on board with the idea of me taking a 40th Girls Weekend trip.  I mean, he wasn't doing back flips about it.  But he understands that I rarely see my three besties since they live in New England.  They come to visit me pretty regularly, which we super mega appreciate, but it was definitely my turn to get on a plane to spend some quality time with them.

Forty may be the new thirty, but it's still a big deal.  (Ahem, for the record, I am still in the throes of my 30's until the end of the year.)  So, we decided to go big.  We've done New York (which may or may not have involved dancing on a bar in the Meat Packing District when that was cool, and yes, that was a real time and a real thing.)  We've done DC (which may have involved drunk Metro riding, which is kind of inevitable). 

Anyway, last weekend, I gallivanted around Napa Valley with three of my best friends for life.

I'll get to that later, because I can't tell that story without telling *this* one first.

*     *     *     *     *

Pretty much as soon as I was out of Central Time Zone, daycare called.  Sawyer had a fever.  And was cranky and miserable, which he is generally NOT.  

Enter:  SuperDad.

Durel left work to pick him up and managed to get him into see the pediatrician, like, instantaneously.  He was diagnosed with a nasty ear infection in one year -- behind the tubes!  (I did not know that was a thing and WHAT THE HELL, TUBES?!)  

So, Durel's weekend went like this:

-- Antibiotics, both oral and ear drops?  Check.  
-- Nebulizing the little guy because he's still a little wheezy from the RSV (WHAT THE HELL, RSV?!)
-- Saline spray into the tiny nose for the massive boogers (The ratio on size for baby boogers to baby noses is way off.  WAY off.)
-- Probiotics into the tiny digestive system for the massive antibiotics  (No comment.)
-- Fever reducer because his fever would not quit (WHAT THE HELL, FEVER?!)
-- Wrangling a five year old (who only wants to play Star Wars Angry Birds and/or watch Odd Squad)

So, he pretty much had a great time.

My father-in-law (who is truly amazing) was there to assist.  It was the Two Men and a Jack and a Sick Baby show.  They did a wonderful job.  There was red wine in the evenings and March Madness on TV and general madness all day long.

Thanks, Durel.  You are SuperDad and a modern dad and an awesome dad.

Here's what I got of the weekend via text.  This is good stuff, people.

Teeth:  6 and 2 more visibly on the way.  Woah.

Jazz hands for lobster ravioli.  As we do.

Yup.  Awesome.
Hope you appreciate both your spouse and the power of antibiotics today.

Talk soon,
Heather

this is one

Thursday, March 19, 2015

We had a tiny little party for Sawyer.  We invited some close friends and their kiddos.  We had donuts and breakfast tacos, and maybe a mimosa here or there.

Jack held court on his new playset in the backyard the way only a five year old big brother with a new playset can.

Sawyer was the object of unbridled affection from two of his buddies.


And he got awesome presents.

Haircut time!  Look at those flowing locks!
(Not to be outdone by his flowing nostrils.
What's up cold and flu season?)
It was perfect.  And yes, I had favor boxes.  And yes, there was a theme (Dr. Seuss).  But I did NOT overthink it, overplan it, or over stress it.

We are all learning all the time, aren't we?

Hope some cuties give you the eye today.

Talk soon,
Heather

brave new world

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

One time, when Jack was like 2 1/2 or 3, he was sick.  He wouldn't eat anything and was getting all tired and little kid listless.  Which is the saddest kind of listlessness because it is hard, I tell you, hard, to keep a little kid down.

I had an idea.  Let's give him a MILKSHAKE.  

But then I had a thought.  He's 2 1/2.  If I tell him something is a "milkshake," he will not drink it.  Taken literally, that sounds gross.  Little kids can be surprisingly literal.

Hmm. 

So, I told him it was "ice cream juice."  He drank it.  He perked up.  I perked up.  He felt better and I felt brilliant.

That feels like a really long time ago.

*     *     *     *     *

Now, this kid is bringing his glider planes to show and tell.  His friends listen to him talk about how he made them, and then they go to the gym and fly them.

He's wearing his Capture the Flag shirt, and he knows what Capture the Flag is.

He's wearing plaid shorts because in a perfect world, he wears plaid shorts every single day.

He is five going on twenty.  Or eighty, what with the plaid shorts.  


He asks me at least once a week when he starts kindergarten.  He has informed me that things will be very different in kindergarten.

Don't I know it, kid.

Hope you can rock some plaid shorts today.

Talk soon,
Heather

going to target like it's your burfday

Monday, March 16, 2015

Sawyer turned one last week!  To celebrate, I took him to the doctor where he got his 12 month shots.  
He didn't think that was much of a celebration.  And I know it wasn't fun.  But we are Vaccinating People, so we got it done.

"Now you can go to Disneyland," my pediatrician said with a wry smile.  (I love her.)

To sweeten the deal, Sawyer stayed home with Mom for the rest of the day to nap, cuddle, and revel in the greatness of being one.

But first, we stopped at Target.  Where we got coffee and treats.  Obviously.

I'm eating a blueberry muffin.
You really believe in capturing the moment, dontcha?

Well then, HOW ABOUT THIS MOMENT?
Get in ma belleh!

Yessss.
I got a lot of things that I needed at Target, which is different than getting a lot of things I don't need at Target.  I used to do that a lot.  It's a self-professed bad habit I am actively trying to break.

I also didn't succumb to the siren song of the Dollar Spot or whatever the hell it's called.  Call me victorious.

And I had the cutest Starbucks and Target buddy a girl could ask for.

Hope someone buys you a treat today.

Talk soon,
Heather





the one with things on our heads

Tuesday, March 10, 2015

There is an oddball Davies family tradition of putting your beer on your head when someone wants to take your picture.  (And you happen to have a beer.)

I recently told someone that I am pretty normal.  Shortly thereafter, I took it back.  I am not normal, nor do I wish to be.

Anyway, the best beer on head picture is of my sisters and I at Southside 815 in Alexandria, Virginia. We are all grinning like fools and holding our beers on our heads.

It was New Years Eve.  I don't remember the year, but I *think* I was underage.  (Go, me!  I mean ... Well, I'm not running for President.  So yeah.  Go, me!)  

Anyway, our dear friend and honorary sister, Beth G., wanted to take a picture of us.  We're not all together that often.  

We all put our beers on our heads.  No discussion.  No plan.  No good reason, in fact.  

In my book, you don't need a reason to put something on your head.  

I'll post the picture when I find it.  

*     *     *     *     *

Sawyer got the memo about putting things on your head.  He's far too young for beer, but he's happy to improvise.


Hope you aren't normal today.

Talk soon,
Heather

mustaches and meaningful looks

Friday, March 6, 2015

Jack's first birthday party had booze.

He stuck to the soft stuff, of course.  As did his one year old buddies.  

We raised our glasses to celebrating one full year of parenthood.  We had sprinted through 365 days of raising a small human who liked to cry, poop, and disrespect our youthful tendencies to stay up late.  

We looked at each other with surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  We did it!

Please note that we NAILED the stripe trend AND the mustache trend.  In 2011.

Jack's fifth birthday party had icy roads.

True to form for this freaky winter, the roads were icy the morning of Jack's party.  As the sun rose, people were careening around the highways as if it was good for them.

We soldiered on. 

We had some of Jack's best buddies, pizza, cupcakes, and glow in the dark putt-putt.  Yes, it really was glow in the dark, and it was actually really cool.

I wore Sawyer while bringing up the rear of the putt-putt parade and whispered little gratitudes that he wasn't freaking out about missing nap.

No booze.

Durel and I didn't have time to look at each other and marvel in the majesty of our parenthood accomplishment.   Five years!  Instead, we multi-tasked in that way that two hands-on parents with a near telepathic connection do.  We partied.  We parented.  

It was, as Jack put it, "incredible!"


My guess is that, if we had exchanged a meaningful glance, it still would have been one of surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  Five years!  We are still doing it!

And yes, it is incredible.  And scary and fun and inspiring and tiring and...beyond what we could have imagined.

Hope you find yourself at a loss for words today.

Talk soon,
Heather

rescued by a hipster

Monday, March 2, 2015

We didn't mean to give up on Jack's hair.

We were just sort of out of ideas.

You see, Jack didn't really have any hair until he was close to 2 years old.  When he did start to grow some lovely locks, they defied our best attempts at styling.

We would let it grow.  We would comb it to the side.  Nanoseconds later, all the hair had come to a neat little point on Jack's forehead.  

We tried pomade.  I am inept with pomade.  

We cut it short.  That was OK.  But not, like, amazing.  Like Jack is.  It just wasn't the hair he deserved.

Here is a summary of our hair challenges from the past 2 years.


We had taken him to the place where you sit in a car and get your hair cut.  We didn't really like that place.  It was expensive and it smelled weird.

We took him to the cheap place.  You get what you pay for.

We took him to the "not as cheap also sports themed" place.  They're sort of (really) rude there.

Sooooo, for lack of a better idea, Durel took Jack to the barber where he goes.  It's a retro hipster man barber.  You know.

EUREKA.



Jack now has the hair he deserves.  We were saved by our hipster barber, suspenders and all.


Hope you feel ridiculously good looking today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, March 26, 2015

the modern dad

Durel was on board with the idea of me taking a 40th Girls Weekend trip.  I mean, he wasn't doing back flips about it.  But he understands that I rarely see my three besties since they live in New England.  They come to visit me pretty regularly, which we super mega appreciate, but it was definitely my turn to get on a plane to spend some quality time with them.

Forty may be the new thirty, but it's still a big deal.  (Ahem, for the record, I am still in the throes of my 30's until the end of the year.)  So, we decided to go big.  We've done New York (which may or may not have involved dancing on a bar in the Meat Packing District when that was cool, and yes, that was a real time and a real thing.)  We've done DC (which may have involved drunk Metro riding, which is kind of inevitable). 

Anyway, last weekend, I gallivanted around Napa Valley with three of my best friends for life.

I'll get to that later, because I can't tell that story without telling *this* one first.

*     *     *     *     *

Pretty much as soon as I was out of Central Time Zone, daycare called.  Sawyer had a fever.  And was cranky and miserable, which he is generally NOT.  

Enter:  SuperDad.

Durel left work to pick him up and managed to get him into see the pediatrician, like, instantaneously.  He was diagnosed with a nasty ear infection in one year -- behind the tubes!  (I did not know that was a thing and WHAT THE HELL, TUBES?!)  

So, Durel's weekend went like this:

-- Antibiotics, both oral and ear drops?  Check.  
-- Nebulizing the little guy because he's still a little wheezy from the RSV (WHAT THE HELL, RSV?!)
-- Saline spray into the tiny nose for the massive boogers (The ratio on size for baby boogers to baby noses is way off.  WAY off.)
-- Probiotics into the tiny digestive system for the massive antibiotics  (No comment.)
-- Fever reducer because his fever would not quit (WHAT THE HELL, FEVER?!)
-- Wrangling a five year old (who only wants to play Star Wars Angry Birds and/or watch Odd Squad)

So, he pretty much had a great time.

My father-in-law (who is truly amazing) was there to assist.  It was the Two Men and a Jack and a Sick Baby show.  They did a wonderful job.  There was red wine in the evenings and March Madness on TV and general madness all day long.

Thanks, Durel.  You are SuperDad and a modern dad and an awesome dad.

Here's what I got of the weekend via text.  This is good stuff, people.

Teeth:  6 and 2 more visibly on the way.  Woah.

Jazz hands for lobster ravioli.  As we do.

Yup.  Awesome.
Hope you appreciate both your spouse and the power of antibiotics today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, March 19, 2015

this is one

We had a tiny little party for Sawyer.  We invited some close friends and their kiddos.  We had donuts and breakfast tacos, and maybe a mimosa here or there.

Jack held court on his new playset in the backyard the way only a five year old big brother with a new playset can.

Sawyer was the object of unbridled affection from two of his buddies.


And he got awesome presents.

Haircut time!  Look at those flowing locks!
(Not to be outdone by his flowing nostrils.
What's up cold and flu season?)
It was perfect.  And yes, I had favor boxes.  And yes, there was a theme (Dr. Seuss).  But I did NOT overthink it, overplan it, or over stress it.

We are all learning all the time, aren't we?

Hope some cuties give you the eye today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

brave new world

One time, when Jack was like 2 1/2 or 3, he was sick.  He wouldn't eat anything and was getting all tired and little kid listless.  Which is the saddest kind of listlessness because it is hard, I tell you, hard, to keep a little kid down.

I had an idea.  Let's give him a MILKSHAKE.  

But then I had a thought.  He's 2 1/2.  If I tell him something is a "milkshake," he will not drink it.  Taken literally, that sounds gross.  Little kids can be surprisingly literal.

Hmm. 

So, I told him it was "ice cream juice."  He drank it.  He perked up.  I perked up.  He felt better and I felt brilliant.

That feels like a really long time ago.

*     *     *     *     *

Now, this kid is bringing his glider planes to show and tell.  His friends listen to him talk about how he made them, and then they go to the gym and fly them.

He's wearing his Capture the Flag shirt, and he knows what Capture the Flag is.

He's wearing plaid shorts because in a perfect world, he wears plaid shorts every single day.

He is five going on twenty.  Or eighty, what with the plaid shorts.  


He asks me at least once a week when he starts kindergarten.  He has informed me that things will be very different in kindergarten.

Don't I know it, kid.

Hope you can rock some plaid shorts today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, March 16, 2015

going to target like it's your burfday

Sawyer turned one last week!  To celebrate, I took him to the doctor where he got his 12 month shots.  
He didn't think that was much of a celebration.  And I know it wasn't fun.  But we are Vaccinating People, so we got it done.

"Now you can go to Disneyland," my pediatrician said with a wry smile.  (I love her.)

To sweeten the deal, Sawyer stayed home with Mom for the rest of the day to nap, cuddle, and revel in the greatness of being one.

But first, we stopped at Target.  Where we got coffee and treats.  Obviously.

I'm eating a blueberry muffin.
You really believe in capturing the moment, dontcha?

Well then, HOW ABOUT THIS MOMENT?
Get in ma belleh!

Yessss.
I got a lot of things that I needed at Target, which is different than getting a lot of things I don't need at Target.  I used to do that a lot.  It's a self-professed bad habit I am actively trying to break.

I also didn't succumb to the siren song of the Dollar Spot or whatever the hell it's called.  Call me victorious.

And I had the cutest Starbucks and Target buddy a girl could ask for.

Hope someone buys you a treat today.

Talk soon,
Heather





Tuesday, March 10, 2015

the one with things on our heads

There is an oddball Davies family tradition of putting your beer on your head when someone wants to take your picture.  (And you happen to have a beer.)

I recently told someone that I am pretty normal.  Shortly thereafter, I took it back.  I am not normal, nor do I wish to be.

Anyway, the best beer on head picture is of my sisters and I at Southside 815 in Alexandria, Virginia. We are all grinning like fools and holding our beers on our heads.

It was New Years Eve.  I don't remember the year, but I *think* I was underage.  (Go, me!  I mean ... Well, I'm not running for President.  So yeah.  Go, me!)  

Anyway, our dear friend and honorary sister, Beth G., wanted to take a picture of us.  We're not all together that often.  

We all put our beers on our heads.  No discussion.  No plan.  No good reason, in fact.  

In my book, you don't need a reason to put something on your head.  

I'll post the picture when I find it.  

*     *     *     *     *

Sawyer got the memo about putting things on your head.  He's far too young for beer, but he's happy to improvise.


Hope you aren't normal today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, March 6, 2015

mustaches and meaningful looks

Jack's first birthday party had booze.

He stuck to the soft stuff, of course.  As did his one year old buddies.  

We raised our glasses to celebrating one full year of parenthood.  We had sprinted through 365 days of raising a small human who liked to cry, poop, and disrespect our youthful tendencies to stay up late.  

We looked at each other with surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  We did it!

Please note that we NAILED the stripe trend AND the mustache trend.  In 2011.

Jack's fifth birthday party had icy roads.

True to form for this freaky winter, the roads were icy the morning of Jack's party.  As the sun rose, people were careening around the highways as if it was good for them.

We soldiered on. 

We had some of Jack's best buddies, pizza, cupcakes, and glow in the dark putt-putt.  Yes, it really was glow in the dark, and it was actually really cool.

I wore Sawyer while bringing up the rear of the putt-putt parade and whispered little gratitudes that he wasn't freaking out about missing nap.

No booze.

Durel and I didn't have time to look at each other and marvel in the majesty of our parenthood accomplishment.   Five years!  Instead, we multi-tasked in that way that two hands-on parents with a near telepathic connection do.  We partied.  We parented.  

It was, as Jack put it, "incredible!"


My guess is that, if we had exchanged a meaningful glance, it still would have been one of surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  Five years!  We are still doing it!

And yes, it is incredible.  And scary and fun and inspiring and tiring and...beyond what we could have imagined.

Hope you find yourself at a loss for words today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, March 2, 2015

rescued by a hipster

We didn't mean to give up on Jack's hair.

We were just sort of out of ideas.

You see, Jack didn't really have any hair until he was close to 2 years old.  When he did start to grow some lovely locks, they defied our best attempts at styling.

We would let it grow.  We would comb it to the side.  Nanoseconds later, all the hair had come to a neat little point on Jack's forehead.  

We tried pomade.  I am inept with pomade.  

We cut it short.  That was OK.  But not, like, amazing.  Like Jack is.  It just wasn't the hair he deserved.

Here is a summary of our hair challenges from the past 2 years.


We had taken him to the place where you sit in a car and get your hair cut.  We didn't really like that place.  It was expensive and it smelled weird.

We took him to the cheap place.  You get what you pay for.

We took him to the "not as cheap also sports themed" place.  They're sort of (really) rude there.

Sooooo, for lack of a better idea, Durel took Jack to the barber where he goes.  It's a retro hipster man barber.  You know.

EUREKA.



Jack now has the hair he deserves.  We were saved by our hipster barber, suspenders and all.


Hope you feel ridiculously good looking today.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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