We Are Having A Girl!

Immediately before I started writing this post, I was on Pinterest to look up nursery ideas for our new baby GIRL.  I wanted ideas for her nursery.  As I saved my first pin, I noticed that “Baby Girl Devens” was already a board on my profile.  I had forgotten that years ago I had been searching for ideas for the possibility of a girl.  Funny enough, while I did want a girl-you can read that blog here-I REALLY wanted a boy for my husband.  His want for a boy outweighed my girl and I wanted him to be happy.  Plus, I’d have another chance.

This go round, I just couldn’t hide it.  I REALLY wanted a girl.  I know some people don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl, and maybe this makes me a bad person, but I wanted a girl and there isn’t a thing I could do to change that.  I have spent the past few months telling myself that another boy would be fine.  I love my son more than I could possibly describe.  Brothers would be so special.  Two boys dressed as knights and slaying dragons and building Legos is a world I could imagine with love.   Continue reading

Grazie! Prego! Scusa!

Right now, an American couple is walking down a cobblestone alley in Rome trying to find their hotel.  The sky is clear and the air is crisp. The husband is confidently walking closer and closer towards the Colosseum attempting to locate their hotel.  He doesn’t want his wife to know that he doesn’t know where he is going.  She knows, buddy.  She knows.  She doesn’t care though, because they’re in Rome…and BAM!  There is the Colosseum, a structure she has only seen in movies and pictures.  I know this is happening right now because it is a beautiful cycle the Romans know too well-and it was us about a week and a half ago.  I wonder how often Romans get a “Scusa, do you know how to get to…”.  Daily?  At least weekly I am sure of it.  We were so grateful for all the kindness of the Italian  people.  Not one of them ignored us or turned us away.  Somehow, the couple always finds their way back to the hotel. Continue reading

I’m Not All Rainbows and Puppy Farts

Every time I write a blog, I get comments about how thoughtful I am or how wise I am for my years.  When I post something on Facebook, I get comments like, “Oh, you guys are so much fun!”  “Never a dull moment with you!”  “Beautiful family!”.  The one that makes me most insecure is “Well said” or “Perfectly worded.”  Obviously, these things make me feel GREAT!  However, they also make me look a little closer at myself and wonder if people see me as a little wiser and considerate than I actually am.  Any thing I ever write comes from experiences, and I enjoy looking back on them and finding something meaningful.  The thing is, to get to the point where I can evaluate my own behavior to the world around me, I have to mess up-ALOT-first.  As my mother can confirm, I am definitely a “learn the hard way” kind of person. Continue reading

I Went Inside My Grandparents’ Old House And Only Cried Once

So, remember a week or so ago when I told you about my weird day leading me to my grandparents’ old house and then to their graves?  And remember when the really nice people who own it now, Tami and Patrick, invited me to come see it?  Well, today was the day!  My dad and I, along with my mom and stepdad swung by the old place today where we were graciously welcomed by the “new” homeowners.  They’ve actually owned the house for three years now, so while it isn’t new for them anymore, being there without my grandparents was very, very new.  The main word that comes to mind when I think of our visit today is closure.  I was worried I’d leave their home with sad memories, but instead I felt overjoyed.  Let me tell you why…. Continue reading

How My Weird Day Led Me To My Grandparents’ Graves

Today was so weird, ya’ll.  I was traveling for work and just wasn’t in the mood.  I’d been driving in the middle of nowhere for hours with no cell phone service and limited radio options.  Just when I decided to just go home and give up on today, I saw a sign: Americus 10 miles.  The town that I practically grew up in.  The town where my grandparents used to live.  Just ten little miles?  I had to go drive by the old house. Continue reading

My New Job

I haven’t really talked too much about my new job because I was afraid it was too good to be true.  Having actually worked it a few weeks and gotten good feedback from my new boss, I think it might finally be safe to mention.  When Jack was born, Rick and I both wanted me to stay at home as much as possible.  I was a daycare baby (and obviously turned out totally fine), but for some reason, it was just something I wanted.  When I actually met my child, I KNEW it was something I wanted.  When he turned six weeks old and I didn’t have to go back to work, I was elated.  I was exhausted and happy and fat and miserable and my body was nowhere near fully recovered from birthing a human being.  I remember thinking about the many women who (by choice or by need) send their infants to daycare and return to full time at six weeks.  How do they do it?!  I didn’t get a full night’s sleep for the first six months of Jack’s life.  I can’t imagine adding a full time job to the mix.  It is seriously insane to me that six weeks is the norm.   Continue reading

Letters To Jack: Letter Two

Oh Jack,

This week has just been the worst.  One day (if you decide to have children), you will drop your kid off at daycare or school for the first time and you will discover what real solid pain feels like.

Today was your fourth day.  The first two days I let you go just for a few hours to get used to it.  Yesterday, I left you for ten hours. TEN.  For ten hours I left you with total strangers.  A little boy pushed you down and scratched your beautiful face and stole your toy.  Your teacher handed me a piece of paper explaining your injuries.  She said you did nothing.  You just cried.  I purposely did not ask which little tot caused harm to my perfect child because I knew that you might one day become friends with him, and that one day you might want him to come over and play, and you might even grow up to be best friends-and I would hate his little toddler guts for the rest of my life. Continue reading

Letters To Jack-Letter One

Dear Darling Little Munchkin Nugget,

I’ve been writing these blogs for over a year now and hoping that one day, you’ll read them.  I figure you won’t care about them much at all until you either have a family, or I’m gone.  I realized today that I’ve yet to really acknowledge my reason for writing.  It’s you.  I don’t want to forget these moments with you.  I’ve already forgotten about thirty percent of my high school class, my friend’s house phone numbers, and how much it cost to fill my gas tank up in 2002.  I don’t want to forget the person you are right now.  At two years old, we have a very different relationship than we might when you are thirty, so I want to remember each relationship perfectly. Continue reading

My Husband Is Weird

This morning, as I was clearing the counter off, I asked Rick while picking up random items, “Is this trash?”  (It’s super weird the things that AREN’T trash, so I’ve learned to ask.)  Anyway, today, he says, “I always write trash on items that are trash.  If it isn’t marked, it isn’t trash.”  Obviously, I don’t have to tell you that this idea would be absolutely ridiculous.  Choosing to write “trash” on something takes more time than throwing the trash in…the trash-but Rick is a man of his word.  I watched him from the living room as he finished the last of the milk, opened the drawer, pulled out a permanent marker, and wrote “TRASH” on the milk jug, setting it back on the counter.  All while complaining that it’s not easy that he has to write “trash” on all of his trash.  I guess the point of this little story is to let you know that my husband is weird.  Like…really weird.  He’s so weird that I am in awe of the creativity required to carry out this weirdness in a hilarious manner.  IMG_3195 Continue reading

Birthdays Aren’t Just About You

In case you missed the 291 photos I posted to Facebook of Jack’s 2nd birthday party, I’ll give you a little recap.  Jack turned two, and we had a Chugga Chugga TWO TWO party for him.  I know.  SO LAME.  My twenty two year old self is hardcore eye-rolling right now, but she also doesn’t have a beautiful munchkin nugget whose birth must be celebrated by the masses.  When deciding which theme to choose, I laid out options for Jack.  We were going to have a Ball Party or a Choo Choo Party or a SHOES Party.  In Jack’s very long two years, these are the things he holds most dear.  So, I put a ball, a shoe, and a choo choo on the floor in front of him and asked which one he wanted as his party theme.  I’ve already given away his decision.  He picked up the train and to Amazon Prime we went. Continue reading