super.

On Saturday morning, our local chapter of Stroller Strides held the "Stroller Bowl" as a nod to the Super Bowl. My husband told me who we wanted to win -- apparently the Giants -- and I made cute shirts (Team Ethan, represent!) and set off in hopes that we wouldn't completely kill one another. My husband is both athletic and competitive. I, on the other hand, am neither. Or more like the epitome of neither. I was begging our teacher for bonus points for the cute shirts I'd made and silently hoping that this wouldn't turn into a fiasco in which my husband and I didn't speak to one another for a week.

It was actually fun and a really great morning. So, naturally, something had to give. And that something came in the form of a couple of sneezes and an awfully runny nose. Ethan came down with a cold. He had just passed his lung recheck after all of the damage his bout with RSV had done in November and I was incredibly worried that this cold would somehow get into his lungs and reintroduce us to Ethan's old pal the nebulizer. It thankfully didn't, and this is shaping up to just be a cold.

Even luckier, while a bit restless and uncomfortable, Ethan is otherwise in good spirits. My husband says this is because he's excited about the Super Bowl. I like to think it's because we can follow my "sick days" rule about staying in our pajamas all day long.

Or maybe it's a little bit of both.

twenty six.

Today I turned 26. It's a number that is closer to 30 than 20. I had anticipated freaking out about that originally but that didn't end up being an issue. Sometimes I look back on all that we've done and been through and feel much older than 26. Not in a worn-out, overextended, where-did-my-life go kind of way but a wow, I feel accomplished way. It's been a pretty wonderful 26 years.

Last year, Ethan was kicking the ever-loving life out of my insides and sent my birthday dinner back up again and me to bed with a wicked case of heartburn. This year, he got to help me blow out the candles on my birthday cake. Lately things have really been falling into perspective in regards to how quickly time does pass. I'm already in the throws of planning his first birthday party and that seems unreal, especially when I remember this time last year.

One of my greatest birthday wishes was to get my hair cut. I'm not very good at following the instructions of my awesome stylist to come back every eight weeks for a trim. The last time I got my hair cut, I was pregnant. It's been closer to eight months and my Eddie Vedder-esque hair was only proof of my negligence. As much as I love the '90's, it was time to retire my hair with the grunge period and my stylist worked his magic to save my hair from it's state of apparent desperation.

My husband had taken the day off of work and the best part about that was that he could come to My Gym with us. My Gym is already Ethan's favorite place to be but he was loving it even more with his daddy there, too.


As for the rest of my day? I kept it classy by requesting take-out from Chipotle and a movie night. (We watched 500 Days Of Summer.)

Maybe it's closer to 30 than 20, but 26 is off to a fabulous start.

mommy who?

The weekends are special days for Ethan as they mean marathons of uninterrupted time spent with his daddy before work steals him back on Monday. I try not to take it personally when, on the weekends, my cuddling isn't enough to make Ethan stop crying or my singing isn't enough to make him smile when he wakes up in the mornings. During the week, I walk into Ethan's nursery and he flails his arms at me with a need to be picked up and cuddled and a smile on his face as we make plans for the day. On the weekends? He has this cheated look on his face when he sees it's me walking into his room to retrieve him for the day. He just has to hear my husband's voice from another room and he perks up, desperately craning his neck to try to find his daddy. I don't take it personally, even when I'm covered in pureed avocado at ten o'clock at night while I'm trying frantically to prepare Ethan's food for the week and my husband is laying on the couch watching The Office. I mean, I am tempted to toss the avocado pits at my husband's head, but I don't take it personally.

No, I'm just kidding. I love the way Ethan lights up whenever he hears his daddy's voice or the way he giggles at whatever silly song or dance my husband is performing for him. I remember being totally immersed in my daddy when I was little, too (and I totally recall all of those times my mother muttered something to the tune of 'right, because I do nothing for you all day long!' while fussing around the kitchen in frustration as I cried out that I wanted my dad to tuck me in -- sorry, mom!).

This afternoon, we went to one of our local parks to ride the carousel. This is something my husband never gets to do during the week with us and I thought it would be nice for Ethan to share one of his favorite places with his dad. What a treat it was, especially as my husband is ridiculously tall and this means Ethan was able to sit atop one of the big horses! I usually make Ethan ride on the handicap benches because even the tiniest horses always go too high for me to reach and hold onto him. Wait. I just admitted that. Moving on.

After a busy week of playdates, gymnastics, Stroller Strides and just trying to enjoy the beautiful weather while it lasted, today was a nice way to end an afternoon. The park was crazy between multiple birthday parties, daycare field trips, a baseball tournament and an abundance of children just visiting the park with their parents but you could tell by looking at Ethan that it was only him and his dad. No one else in the world.

(I won't take it personally.)

double great.

This afternoon, my mother, sister, myself and my somehow-ended-up-without-pants child drove down to visit Ethan's great-great-grandmother, Jennie. It's always been hard enough for me to find cards from adults to their great-grandmother but now we get an additional challenge as Jennie gets to tack another "great" onto her title.

My great-grandfather married Jennie when I was extremely young and so I never remember a time when she wasn't there as a grandmother figure. My great-grandfather, Nonno, is the man who Ethan is named after. Then there's the always eerie (but in a heartwarming way) story about how Ethan surprised us all by deciding to be born when I was only 36 weeks along right on Nonno's birthday. One of the last things Nonno ever said to me before he passed away was that I'd have a son and we would know that he was here with us when I did have my son. I guess it was Nonno's will, because my water broke and then Ethan made his way into the world at 11:45 p.m., with fifteen minutes to spare in sharing a birthday with Nonno.

It's always been hard to accept that Nonno won't physically be here to meet his great-great-grandson and get to snuggle and cuddle him. Still, I am thankful that Ethan gets the opportunity to snuggle with his great-great-grandmother because not many children are lucky enough to say that. He'll get to waltz his way into Nonno and Jennie's home and get greeted by an outpouring of love just like we always got to as children and for that I am so very thankful.

my little superstar's television debut.

It's that time of year where everyone -- the cashier at Target, the barista at Starbucks, the stranger you encounter while walking the mall who stops to admire your cute baby -- asks what you're doing for New Year's Eve. The truth of the matter is I've probably never done anything for New Year's Eve and probably never will...if you don't count climbing into my bed and falling asleep by 10. I mean, last year I was sick and pregnant and threw myself into bed with my Snoogle at 8 o'clock and called it a night. Give me credit here. This year I'm planning on staying up until 10. I fully admire anyone who is able to make New Year's Eve a holiday that is something more than waking up a little after midnight filled to the brim with rage and annoyance to the sounds of your neighborhood erupting in fireworks and car horns. Kudos to you.

What I am looking forward to this New Year's Eve is Ethan's television debut! Quite a few months ago now, Ethan filmed a cute little cameo for an episode of my dad's television show. I posted the recap of the filming process back when it happened, but now it's time to remind everyone to tune in, set your DVR or whatever it is you've got to do.

If I need to sell you a little bit on why it's imperative to spend a half an hour on your New Year's Eve day watching a fishing show on television, can I just point out the cuteness overload trifecta that is my son getting kissed by a dolphin while wearing his adorable custom-made fishing hat? No big deal or anything.


Here's how to tune in (or set your DVR):
George Poveromo's World of Saltwater Fishing
December 31st, 2011 @ 11:00 A.M. EST
NBC Sports Network (formerly VERSUS!)

shimmer like you do to me; we laugh at all those changing trees

As the days dwindle down closer to the holidays (and our family vacation), we've also found ourselves smack dab in the middle of my husband's "busy time" at work. Given the later hours at his job and added craziness of Christmas shopping and trip planning, my husband suggested we decorate our tree this morning at six o'clock.

When he let me in on this idea of his last night before bedtime, I'll fully admit I wasn't completely sold. Ethan, however, must have subconsciously been on the same page as his daddy because he was up at 5:45 this morning seemingly ready to decorate! Last year we spent the holidays out of town at my family's lake home so it's been a bit of a challenge to remember where all of our decorations were being stored and kept here in our home. It's not ideal to realize we need more strands of lights or ornament hooks at six o'clock in the morning, but this crack-of-dawn tree decorating was a perfect and special memory for Ethan's baby book.

Our tree is full of memories. Decorating the tree, for me, is always about nostalgia and warm memories and love. Our tree is filled with ornaments celebrating milestones, anniversaries, in remembrance of loved ones and documentations of family. This year our new addition ornament was celebrating Ethan's very first Christmas and it fit beautifully on the branches of our tree amongst all of our milestones that we've seen and have shaped us over the years.

give me spots on my apples but leave me the birds and the bees

It's a sentiment I keep echoing, but we've so very much been enjoying our beautiful weather. This morning was the first day of our local farmer's market and, despite the fact we had other commitments and really didn't have the time, we just had to attend if not for only a few minutes.

When we were in college, my husband and I would awake before 7 on Saturdays and make our way to the local farmer's market, spending hours drinking hot, handcrafted coffees, stocking up on fresh produce and marveling at all of the unique vendors. When we moved back to our hometown after school, it was that year that our hometown first developed their own farmer's market. Spending the cool, breezy, lazy weekend mornings at the farmer's market has long since been a family tradition I've longed to share with my future children and so I've been extremely excited for the season to begin.

We left with fresh citrus, guacamole, fruit juice, pickles and a handcrafted, natural rootbeer that I just could not say no to (despite the fact it wasn't even ten in the morning). There were farm animals, dogs, entertainment and crowds of people but despite all of the excitement, Ethan spent the entire farmer's market like so:

Maybe the excitement of the farmer's market was lost on him today but I'm not in a rush for him to grow up, run around and take advantage of the free SnoCones and pony rides. I'm just happy to implement this family tradition and finally enjoy those cool, breezy, lazy weekends with my family at the farmer's market.

wendel.

I've always assumed that when you have kids, things just get really, really fun again. You know, in that overly magical and whimsical sense. I was right. The prospect of building Ethan his first bear at Build-A-Bear was so exciting that it was only right to make it a ginormous family affair. There we were, cameras flashing and taking turns making wishes on hearts, bathing a stuffed bear under a stream of fast-blowing air and working on said bear's birth certificate as if we were taking a standardized test. Ethan was a bit confused but, in the end, left snuggling his little bear who somehow ended up being named Wendel.

Ethan's grandma -- my mom -- was unfortunately at home not feeling too well and therefore unable to make the Build-A-Bear festivities. There were enough of us to yell "we love you, Ethan!" into the little sound recorder placed in Wendel's paw where Ethan probably won't notice one voice missing, but mostly Grandma Edie was there in spirit. (Though she never would have gone for our selection of the plaid hoodie and tattered bluejeans. Love you, mom!)

Wendel's birth certificate has been tucked away safely into Ethan's baby book and as Ethan snoozes away for the evening (you know, not to jinx that or anything), Wendel is taking it easy on Ethan's baby swing. It's the little things that make for such bigmemories when you have a baby. Just as fun as I predicted, but I never could have guessed how much!

somebody told me that this is the place where everything's better, everything's safe

My husband, Ethan and myself originally had plans to join my parents and sister in the Florida Keys so that Ethan could guest star on an episode of my dad's TV show. The weather had other plans that put filming on hold for the time being, but we all still took the weekend trip down to Islamorada for some much needed relaxation and family time.

We stayed in a three bedroom house at Pines & Palms Resort on our own little private section of the beach which was made even more perfect by the fact that the weather was so breezy and cool this weekend. We all spent Saturday evening sitting out on the sand and watching the sunset while inhaling the fresh ocean air. A trip to Theater Of The Sea was also a must, as was wading in the water with Ethan as the parrotfish swam around his toes. We did all of the old Islamorada staples, not excluding two trips to Robbie's where Ethan was absolutely mesmerized by the giant tarpon.

It was a bit sad to pack up our things and head home this evening but we left with Ethan's first trip to the Keys under our belt and all of the great memories that came with it. I have so many childhood memories of Islamorada and doing all of the things and seeing all of the places that we did and saw with Ethan. It's an unreal feeling, being able to show your child the parrotfish in the swimming beach at Theater Of The Sea or feed the tarpon at Robbie's as you did so many times as a child. It's comparable to the feeling of signing my child in at the pediatrician for the first time, the flash of panic and excitement and disbelief and an instant flood of love when you realize that this is your child and that is your child's name right there on that line. I feel those same feelings when I watched Ethan stare at the fish swimming around in the blue water with a sense of magic that only children are capable of exuding.

I may admittedly (and ashamedly!) be too exhausted to take off my make-up on more nights than I care to admit to, but I'm never too tired to realize and appreciate how lucky I am to be a part of the greatest family in the world, married to the most fantastic husband in existence and mommy to the most incredible, beautiful, perfect son in the universe.