I'm not your honey!

It just doesn't get much cuter than that......

 It's been a while since I've written anything. I was a little worried, because this is how my writing projects tend to go. I have scathes of journals with one entry, grand plans that never quite make it to fruition. And then BAM- inspiration hit me again today and I was left making notes on napkins so I didn't forget. 
    Last weekend, I travelled to CT with Alicia to go to Maureen's bridal shower- it was a beautiful shower & I was sad that due to the silly snow we had to leave early. I'm constantly amazed by people's creativity and this shower (as will be the same with Maureen & Eric's wedding, I have no doubt) was no exception. It was nice to have a girly day without Miss Grace, but I realized when I started pointing out EVERY baby that we say on our numerous pee breaks on the ride home- I really missed her. Kudos to Alicia for putting up with me. I also would like to extend a big thanks to her for allowing us to take multiple pee breaks- something that is entirely foreign to me as Andrew has ONE rest stop he will consider stopping at, for the duration of the trip. And if I happen to be sleeping or otherwise distracted when we pass the exit- you snooze you lose..I ride the rest of the way with my legs crossed very tightly together. Not pleasant, as I tend to get slightly vicious when faced with the overwhelming, all-consuming need to pee.  Eek.


    I spent most of this week planning and preparing for (or at least, thinking about preparing for and leaving to the absolute last minute) a "surprise" going away party for Robyn, who is moving back home to Manchester. I'm not very good with surprises, so Robyn caught on to me, but a fun time was had by all. But the whole thing got me thinking. Since I've had Grace, life has turned into this bittersweet, wonderful, whirlwind. We are all starting to grow up, move away. Everyday, it feels like Grace is doing something new. Just this week she has started to really master her drunken-sailor walk, stumbling along while someone holds her hands ( I still get the best laughs out of when she steps on her own feet) as well as pull her self up. She wants to be standing and semi-mobile almost all the time.

I looked at her the other day, sitting in her high chair, eating puffs & drinking out of her sippy cup and I felt like I had been hit by a truck. She wasn't my little baby anymore, new& fresh to the world , needing me to shelter her, teach her, keep her close in this new place. She's quickly becoming a little girl, with likes and dislikes, personality coming out of her ears. I get so excited with each new milestone, but I can't help it that it tugs at my heart strings a little bit. I make myself dizzy trying to hold on to every moment, because the cliche of time moving at warp-speed when you are enjoying life with your child- is so very true. Bittersweet for sure. 
    
One of the only things I've managed to get accomplished over my winter break is watching a lot of deliciously reprehensible reality television. Hello-- Jersey Shore? Now there are many things I love about Andrew, but this next admission is one that will probably embarrass him. I love that he gets JUST as sucked into watching Teen Mom as I do. Must be that baby thing. I also love that he agrees with all my observations and frustrations. He suggested that someone should follow us around with cameras because anything he does that is remotely obnoxious would pale in comparison to the loser boys that are portrayed on that show, therefore making him look like a superhero. I pointed out several flaws with this brilliant brain-child of his.  A) We are not teenagers. B) We actually like each other, most days. C) We live painfully boring lives. No one would watch us on television. So much for fame & fortune. But I will admit- Andrew comes pretty close to superhero status. Fantastic dad, supportive beyond belief..and he makes me laugh even when I want to be mad at him. Oh..almost got sappy there, whoops :) But you get the idea..
  
  Finally...my gripe of the day. I was at Chili's today, picking up a "to-go" order. I had to wait quite a lot of time for my "GG Buf Chick Sand" (I was unaware there was Chili 's lingo- this means my guiltless grill buffalo chicken sandwich) so there was a lot of back & forth conversation between myself and the server. Who was a girl around my age, if not a little bit younger. And she insisted on constantly referring to me as "honey" or "hun". It was all I could do not to scream at her.  There is no way to call another girl "honey" that does not come off as condescending. The idea of pet names in a relationship sometimes makes me a little queasy- very few of my boyfriends have ever gotten to "honey" status- Andrew has earned it. So I definitely DO NOT need some chick at Chili's throwing it around like we've been dating for the past 3 years. No thank you.