On a Todd Helton high

I am on a Todd Helton high.  Last night, watching him play his final game as a Colorado Rockie...I mean, come on.  There were multiple times during the night that, if I allowed it, I could have let it loose and ugly cry.  Watching his little girls run out and hug his legs??  Listening to different athletes and well-known people recount the good times with the Todd-ster?  Hearing Eric Church's "Springsteen" over and over and getting chills just hearing the "dong, dong..." of the song...you know what I'm talking about!!!

And as I sat there with my sweet Maxwell (yup, turning it into a post about my baby...#sorrynotsorry) I just think to myself, isn't it the hope of every parent that their child can turn their passion into a career, and do something that makes people feel good?  No matter what it is...music, sports, etc...if Max gets to follow his dreams AND do something that people are interested in, I would say he is a winner.  I can't imagine the pride and emotion that Todd's family feels as they watch an entire stadium stand on their feet and cheer for Todd.  It's amazing.

I would also like to challenge the people of Denver to cheer for the home team.  How many of you fools in Boston gear have actual ties to Boston?  How many of you just like to cheer for them because they win a lot and it's the cool thing to do?  Maybe it's not always "cool" to cheer for the Rockies, but I'd rather be loyal and cheer for a losing team than sneak onto a winning bandwagon and hope that no one asks who the starting pitcher is!  I say this more on behalf of my husband and father-in-law, who are die-hard Rockies fans.  They'll be the ones who get to cry the hardest when the Rockies win a World Series.

Additionally, I'm very curious as to what Todd's retirement will look like.  Sounds like the man is set.  Many messages wished him "good luck" with his retirement.  I'm quite positive that with his $130 million fortune, a secluded ranch and a beautiful family, he's going to do just fine.  Except for that horse that they gave him last night... he probably had plans to sleep in this morning, but instead had to get up and feed that dang horse!  How exactly does that work?  Perhaps the wealthy folks board their horses.  If anyone has any information on how Todd handles horse ownership, please let me know.

Welp, off to sign Maxwell up for infant baseball lessons!

Mike used Max as a cute way to tell the obnoxious
Red Sox fans behind us to "behave".

Phobias and some photos

Aside from the obvious phobia of elevators, I am also scared of the following:

Sometimes at work, I'll sit on the edge of my chair.  Perhaps I do this so that my feet will touch the ground like the rest of the adults.  Either way, I always imagine the chair wheeling backwards, which would then make my chin hit the desk and my teeth shatter.  Always.

I am all about big, volumized hair.  When I'm in the bathroom, I flip my head over to tousle up the strands a bit.  I've started to visualize that as I flip my head over, I whack my head on the corner of the counter.  This would probably result in me passing out, but no one would know, since the door is locked.

I used to work at a smoothie shop in high school.  And college.  And maybe for a little chunk of time after college.  Anyway, as I would be watching the blender blend the smoothie, I would imagine the blades coming unhinged from the blender and slicing into my stomach.

We went to a little housewarming party this weekend, and Max stole the show.  Thank goodness...just as I mentioned before about how my pregnancy gave me things to talk to strangers about, now I'm able to talk to strangers about Maxwell.  I always try to let them continue on the topic of my baby, as I don't want to be "that woman" who won't shut up about her child.  

We made sure he passed out with his shoes off.  

Guess which one is 12 months old and guess which one is 4 months old...

More powerful than the President

A few weeks ago I had jury duty.  I wasn't annoyed by it, I was actually kind of excited!  The only factor that caused me a bit of anxiety was the logistics of how I was going to pump during the day, but I emailed in to make arrangements and they assured me that there was a "Mother's Room" that I could use. (See exhibit A)

I showed up and was fascinated by the process immediately!  We all checked in, and then different courtrooms would show up and request a certain number of jurors, and they would call out numbers of who was going to that courtroom.  We watched a video about how important jury duty was.  The video even mentioned that we, as jurors, were more powerful than THE PRESIDENT.  Oh reallllllllllly!?

Senator Michael Bennett was even there.  He walked in and it was like a political ad.  Women coming up to him for a hug.  Men shaking his hand.  He sat towards the front and stormed away on his blackberry.

A girl walked in wearing lace shorts and a shirt that said "POT HEAD".  Listen, sister...we all know your game.  You aren't getting dismissed by dressing like a bohemian druggie!

I thought there would be coffee?  Is that wrong?

I still hadn't been called around 9am, so I went to the front and told the lady I would need to pump soon.  She was extremely kind and told me I was being called with the next courtroom, so if I could wait a bit longer, I could be escorted to the "Mother's Room" by the court clerk.  Sure enough, I was called shortly thereafter, and sure enough, I was escorted to the "Mother's Room" by the court clerk, aka a 25 year old intern dude.  We walked to the 1st floor, checked the key out with security (had to provide my ID and everything!), then intern and I walked down to the basement, through a long hallway, and he dropped me off at a little room with a picture of a woman and a baby on the door.  He said he'd come back to get me...is 10 minutes enough?  TEN MINUTES??  Bitch please...I'm feeding a human here.  See ya in 30.

So, I settled in to the room and did my thang.  As I emerged from the room, there was intern, waiting like a good boy to escort me back upstairs to our courtroom!  And even better, all 50 potential jurors were lined up in order, waiting for me to return before they could enter the courtroom.  Maybe I AM more powerful than the President....

We filed in, and I was part of the first 17 that got sat in "the box" for questioning.  This was just so so so so interesting!  We were told about the case, and were instructed to let the judge know if there was any reason we shouldn't be a juror on this case...do we know the plaintiff?  the defendant?  the law firms representing either side?  Yada yada.  People who haven't learned how to be sly yet went on and on about why they shouldn't be on the jury.  I just decided to accept my fate and if I was chosen, so be it.  I had this attitude until they said the trial would last 7 days.  Seven WHAT????  And right before a holiday weekend?  Oh hellllllno!  I was nervous.  But I didn't want to join the group of those who were so painfully obvious about not wanting to be chosen, so I settled for telling the judge/attorneys (in private, in the judge's chambers, of course) about how I would need to pump every 3 hours, and that it would not affect my ability to serve on the jury, but I just needed them to be aware of my scheduling needs.

Anywayyyyyy, after a full day's worth of them asking us questions at random, and dismissing some weirdos, and replacing the weirdos with newbies, and then asking more questions, and hearing a vegan potential juror tell everyone that she was probably going to judge the plaintiff more harshly because she was overweight, etc....it came down to the final selection.  Both attorneys felt they had a good group to choose the 7 real jurors from.  They did a little song and dance about passing a piece of paper back and forth and crossing off juror names.  Meanwhile, the hate crime detective/potential juror that was sitting next to me was taunting me, saying I hadn't said anything weird enough to be dismissed so I was definitely going to be on the jury.  I watched the next 7 days of my life get flushed down the toilet.  But then, glory hallelujah, I was dismissed!

In summary, the entire process was extremely fascinating.  I'd like to serve on a jury, but on a case that lasts for 2 days, tops.  I'd also like there to be coffee. 

Sincerely,

The most powerful woman in America

Exhibit A: the Mother's Room

Controversial craft?

Over the weekend, I was a part of a special invention with a potentially controversial name: "the Talibun". 

(I worry that the more I put this word out there on the interwebs, the more the NSA will be a'watchin me. Oh wells!)

I found these awesome headbands on some random site, and I was determined to make them for myself, my sis, my cousin, and any other human who was interested. This craft was especially simple which made it all the more realistic that I would actually complete this craft. A few yards of jersey fabric and/or a few old tshirts, a couple folds/loop throughs/fabric smoothing, and my new headband was born!! They slightly resemble a turban. Initially, the group concluded that we would call them "turbuns", as the headband is a perfect compliment to a good 'ol messy bun. But then we started to joke that I had found this craft on www.taliban.com (hi, NSA!) and then we started to call them the "talibun". It took off! We made talibuns for all the gals, swept our hair into messy buns, and my new weekend hair was decided.

However, my friend mike still needs some convincing. He said the Talibun is not allowed in our marriage bed. Whaaaa??? 

I wore it to the grocery store the next day and I sort of expected to be so bombarded by compliments that I would have to set up a make-shift stand in the parking lot to take orders. Not so much. That might be because I started to frequent the Sprouts that all the grumpy old ladies go to. 

Anyhow, I look forward to incorporating the Talibun into my life and I also hope that Mike can find room in his heart for my new craft.

I present: The Talibun Gang!

Then, check out this tummy-time pro!

And heck, how about a sleeping baby pic just for the fun of it:

Pregnancy math and a series of annoying things

One year ago today (also our dear Addyson's birthday) I took a little test that changed our lives in a big way.  I think back to that morning, when I was so nervous that it would be negative and that it would start a panicky month of googling things and counting down the days until I could take another test.  I was hoping so so so so so much to see a positive test, but I was expecting a negative test.  Being pregnant seemed like such a peculiar experience, and was something my sister did, not something I did!!  Looking back at the past year, I almost can't believe all that happened.  Not that I did anything out of the ordinary, but I just can't believe I got to be pregnant and I got to give birth and now we have this handsome little fella.  Its like, when I go into the bathroom stall at work and I think, remember when you almost couldn't fit in here??  Having a big belly...did that really happen??  Hanging out with little Maxer last night and thinking about how much has changed over the past year was surreal.  Which brings me to my point:  pregnancy math doesn't make sense. Let's look at this in weeks: I found out I was pregnant 52 weeks ago. I had a full term, 40 week pregnancy.  Maxwell is 16 weeks old.  There are 2-4 weeks in there that I'm not sure what happened to.  I'm no scientist so I'm sure there is a reasonable explanation.  Like, there was a semi-rapture that deleted 4 weeks from my life.  Not a problem.

We went with Mike to Colorado Springs last night for the start of their fall season.  I drove so that Mike could get some work done, and his car wouldn't shift into 5th gear, and sometimes 4th gear, so driving on the highway in 3rd gear made for a unique driving experience.  Traffic was a beyotch, but we finalllllly made it.  Right as we were pulling into the park, Mike realized he forgot the team shirts.  DOH!  That was just the beginning of the series of annoying things.  I was ultra hungry, and Max was screaming, but I knew if I didn't eat things would get weird.  So after unloading Mike, I loaded Max back up and drove to the nearest Taco Bell.  In my extreme hunger state, when the lady told me my food would be right out, all I could say was FOOOOOD.  I think I meant to say, "Good, thanks."  But even then, "Good" is not an appropriate response.  Like, it BETTER BE COMING!!  I got my bag o'burritos y tacos and sped back to the park.  Threw Mike and his refs the bag of food and rushed back to the car to snarf my tacos and feed Max.  Besides from it being 1,000 degrees, things were going well.  Max and I were in the backseat, he was nursing and I was mowing down, when a little VW bug bumped into us as the driver was trying to squeeze into the space in front of us.  I am reading "52 Things Kids Need From Their Mothers" and today's chapter was about how kids need to see their mom have poise in chaotic situations.  What excellent timing!!  I composed myself and got out of the car with Max to talk to the perp.  I'm sure he felt like a huge dong for running into a car with a woman and a baby.  There was no damage, and I was surprisingly calm about the whole thing, so we exchanged info and we went about our lives.  Max and I layed on the grass for a while and watched adults get all riled up about kickball.  I swatted ants and other insects away from us and pondered moving to a place with no insects. The games ended and Mike came back to the car....as I was loading Max up and telling Mike how happy I was that I had had Taco Bell, he started barfing.  Turns out he had accidentally eaten a bean burrito instead of soft taco...and he does not react well to beans.  So after we recovered from that incident and all traces of Taco Bell had been discarded, he went to turn the car on and....the battery was dead.  Oopies....perhaps that was my fault, from turning the key forward to open the windows and leaving it like that for a while.

Surprisingly, we recovered well from this series of annoying events and were able to get home in time to give Maxer a bath, get him snuggled into bed, and then have a couple beers while watching the Broncos game that we had DVR'd.

Whew!

Thanks for the jersey, Charlee!