spark of madness

Chickens, I have been remiss.

Work is crazy, having a baby is crazy, trying to wring out every little ounce of summer sunshine is crazy.

It’s all beautiful.

I’m writing today, because last night JW told me that Robin Williams died, and I know I’m not the only one who feels so sad about this.

I am a silly person.

I consider it a gift though, even when it gets me in trouble or I say the wrong thing, or drive someone nuts.

I’ve never really been embarrassed by the lengths I will go to so someone will laugh.

So I will laugh.

Robin Williams was a silly person. He told jokes, he made faces, he did voices.

He made people laugh.

His silliness always made me feel like maybe it was okay for me to follow suit.

My favorite movie (I’m not ashamed to say) is Mrs. Doubtfire.

It always has been. Something about the ridiculousness of a hairy little man dressed as an old lady for the sake of his kids touched me and cracked me up at the same time.

Robin Williams got that you could be silly with a serious message.

Or just silly, because guys, it’s a short life and we all need to laugh.

The world this morning is a little more serious, and we’re all a little bit worse off for it.

Last night I watched Good Will Hunting because I wasn’t ready to watch something that made me laugh too hard.

But today’s a new day, and we could all use a belly laugh.

Let’s work on that one together, chickadees.

rwilliams

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keeping us guessing

Good morning everyone!

It’s only 7:40, but JW and I have already been up for over two hours on our shared day off, since Boo has decided that he’s into rising early.

I can’t blame him, there’s a lot to do.

JW asked if we should watch Divergent this morning, but I proclaimed that coffee and a movie was something I wasn’t quite into, as of yet.

*****

So I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before (because I am generally sleep deprived), but one of the hand-me-down items we received from sweet baby (NOT A BABY, he is ONE!) Sam was a bouncer, which we’ve been strapping T into since he was born when we need a couple minutes with both hands.

He’s really into it right now because he’s big enough to make it bounce pretty intensely.

theobouncer

Here he is, bouncing away, with a mustache.

As you do.

Anyway, while we pretty much love the bouncer, it’s also become a source of both cursing and laughing for the last five months.

We’re tired and we’re cracked up.

We keep running into the damn thing, tripping over it, and knocking into it.

It could be nowhere near me, and yet, I will somehow find a way to fall across it.

Sometimes with T in my arms.

Thankfully, generally solo.

Last week, I woke up in the middle of the night to feed Boo, looked at it, acknowledged its presence, and immediately stubbed my toe on it so hard I thought I might have broken it.

We move it around the condo, attempting to get it out of the way, and then breaking into hysterics when inevitably, someone (usually JW) manages to go flying after smacking into it not two minutes later.

I will not be sad when he’s too big to fit into that thing and it has to go in a closet.

Where I will likely trip over it.

Yesterday, I relayed to JW that while Theo is still rather small, he finally fits in his exersaucer.

photo (37)

His feet dangle out the bottom, but that is of no matter.

JW admitted that T is adorable in this new toy, and then observed “Well, it’s another thing to run into.”

Best to have a variety of joys in your lives, chickadees.

Enjoy this one! 

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everything is awesome

Boo and I are playing very quietly this morning, because of sleeping teens.

Let me back that up.

Just a few nights ago, I was lamenting to JW that I hadn’t seen my teen pals in awhile. They’re very busy, even though it’s summer, and you know, I have to be asleep by ten.

Cut to their dad randomly calling and asking if we could supervise an emergency sleepover due to an unexpected work trip.

Cue a night of chicken tacos and The Lego Movie, which is seriously hysterical.

We’ve been watching cartoons together since they were 6 and 7, and happily, they continue to indulge me.

It was my kind of night, and I even willingly stayed up past my bedtime watching old episodes of Lost and chatting.

This morning, Boo’s happily playing on his mat in his room while I relay this news to you, and two teenagers snooze on my couches.

I’m in a pretty good place here, chickadees.

*****

T and I had a fun first day off in a series of three yesterday. It involved: Raffi, two walks, singing, lots of rolling over, and a three hour nap.

Which meant reading my newest library book and episodes of I Love Lucy for mom.

Who knows how we’ll manage to top it today.

Also exciting: Boo and I started practicing the tripod method to work on sitting up. I find that I describe his every move in yoga terms (he’s mastered cobra!), and this new feat will be no different.

photo

Sorry it’s blurry, but it’s an action shot. Boo is starting to get the hang of it, but I confess to you that immediately after this picture was snapped, he threw himself backwards and knocked his head on the ground.

He seems no worse for the wear, in case you were wondering.

In the Palluzzi/Wagenschutz family, we don’t let much get us down.

Enjoy this one, chickens!

 

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Filed under Chicago, Good times

taking a slow ride around this week.

Morning, chickadees! 

We just finished up a beautiful, low key weekend over here.

Which was exactly what we needed after last weekend/week’s craziness.

Lucky for us, it didn’t end with two days only.

A’s taking the week off (in Miami, no less!) so JW and I split up the week so we could hang out with Boo.

Which is way more fun than heading into work, if you ask me.

This weekend we took walks, returned to the Farm market (and bought everything we could get our hands on), drank white wine spritzers, and laughed a lot at how cute Boo is.

He also used the weekend to perfect his rollover, which means we will never be safe again- T’s on the move and wants everyone to know it.

Also now I spend all of my time just watching him flip over.

I’ve always been easily amused, you guys.

And with that, I’m off to grab T from his morning nap and get to playing, round 2 of this morning.

Way better than meetings and spreadsheets, if you ask me.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it, chickens.

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home again, home again

Thoughts on my first work trip after Boo:

1. There is nothing better than the ability to video chat when you’re out of town. Even if it meant Theo was a little heartbreakingly confused by why he could see and hear me but not touch me (he kept reaching out to the phone), seeing his little smile made it easier to be away.

2. If you’re going to travel for work, having the first trip last only 24 hours is definitely ideal. I still got to see him both days I was gone (on the front and then the tail end), which made it infinitely easier. Ask me how I feel in September when confronted with two nights away. Baby steps.

3. I’ve become one of those annoying people who talks about their kids all the time. #sorrynotsorry – my baby is adorable and needs to be shared with the world, as far as I’m concerned.

4. I’m incredibly awkward about the fact that I’m carrying around breast milk in an airport (or “human milk” as I dubbed it to my coworkers). However, the most awkward thing was actually that I holed up in a family bathroom, sat on the floor shirtless, and pumped in bliss at the airport because there was a plug (the battery pack just doesn’t have as much oomph). I’m so grateful every day that I was born without an overdeveloped sense of shame (or any sense of shame, really).

5. Great things that happened in my 24 hours away: I slept through one entire night, got to spend some time with my coworkers and didn’t have to worry about rushing home because of Mom guilt, and learned that the occasional Xanax in flight is fine, even when breastfeeding. A giant relief in the middle of a bumpy ascent into the mountain air.

It’s all a journey, chickens. Best part of the whole thing? Coming home to this guy.

photo (36)
Happy weekend- enjoy that sunshine if you’ve got it!

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and the circle, it goes round and round

Morning, chickens.

And again, my apologies for being flaky lately.

There are so many things I want to share with you, such as:

1. Theo’s five months old today. I can’t decide if I’m all like “time flies” or like “I can’t believe you’ve only been part of our lives for five months.” Instead, let us simply look at the evidence of this adorable little guy who we’re lucky to call our son.

theofivemonths

 

2. This past weekend we celebrated: Jennie’s wedding, Theo’s baptism (my best friends J&C served as godparents, which means they’re officially in our little family even though who cares about being official when you love people that much), my grandparents’ anniversary, and my nephew Sam’s first birthday.

It was a whirlwind celebration that reminds me how grateful I should be every single day just for waking up, breathing, and existing in the life I’ve got. Here are the oldest and the youngest people in my family, since I can’t fit all the people I loved this weekend in one little frame.

theopoppy

At Theo’s christening, there were five little kids receiving the sacrament, and when it was our turn, I walked up to the font and looked down and man, there were a lot of people there to celebrate my baby (almost embarrassing, but you know me. No sense of shame). And you know what, no matter what I do or don’t think about the Catholic church, that was a lesson in what an amazing tribe T has. That’s the picture I would have liked to take from that day.

3. I’m in Denver this week (one night only) for my first work trip away from Theo. And it’s not so terrible, except that nothing is as fun as hanging out with him and I wish I was doing that instead.

Also, I packed lightly, which means my only extra shirt of course has some kind of weird coffee stain on it I didn’t notice before I left.

My outfit is questionable. I’m hoping people are kind (but not caring too much if they’re not).

4. I’m a reading machine this summer. After T was born, I was exhausted and nervous about taking care of a baby, so I filled any empty moments with episodes of I Love Lucy instead of reading (I do not regret this decision, for the record), and I worried that I would never love reading again.

Said the girl who once devoted a diary entry to the injustice of a canceled book fair.

Anyway, I’m back at it now, thanks to a new mobile app from the library and one million titles I’d like to read. My most recent accomplishments: Delicious by Ruth Reichl (into it, even if it was a little cheesy), My Name is Memory (my cousin Shelly recommended it to me, and it’s by the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants lady, and it was a good love and life story),  Salt, Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us (this made me want to forage for nuts and seeds, but in a good way), and Eleanor and Park (a YA book about the 80s and tough families and love, and I adored it).

This is just a sampling, but man, you guys, I’m overwhelmed by all the things I want to read. WHAT ELSE should be on my list?

5. I’m going to do better at writing. So many hysterical nuggets have been happening around here, and I better capture them now, I think.

And with that, I’m off to dry my hair and compose myself as someone who’s not headed to meetings in a questionable outfit.

Something things never change, chickadees.

Enjoy this one!

 

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It will be great.

A thought on things, chickens, after a lovely weekend (heads up: any weekend is a good weekend, especially when it involves fish tacos + ribs + my adorable baby).

This came to me a couple of days ago, and I sort of threw it aside, but I think it’s worth sharing.

Once upon a time, when JW and I were 23 (well, I was 23- that rascal was probably only 22), he moved to my beloved Chicago from Grand Rapids.

Prior to this we had been dating long distance for six months or so, and prior to that, we’d been pretending we wouldn’t end up together for all time for the past four years or so.

Anyway.

When JW moved here, we were obviously both super excited and also terrified, because sure it was fun to get together and go out to dinner and hang out in bars for lovely, too-fast weekends, but what would it be like when we actually lived in the same place?

Gulp, we thought.

It turned out to still be great, after working out a few kinks (kinks are part of the whole thing, though), and as we relaxed our stringent rules about how often we could see each other and for how long (let’s be honest, he was basically my third roommate by the end of the summer), we started to talk about moving in together.

We were babies.

I don’t recommend this for everyone, but we lucked out, so basically, do what you think feels right, chickadees. The worst that can happen is that you’re wrong, and I’m wrong about something at least once a day. It’s not so bad.

Anyway, we started to talk about all of the weird, seemingly boring things that we could do when we lived together, like laundry and grocery shopping and laying on the floor doing nothing.

We should do laundry on Wednesdays, JW said seriously. It’ll be great.

I laughed, because that’s always what I do when JW gets serious.

I tucked that away, and we moved in together and did laundry basically never because we were still children who couldn’t manage to do more than make it to work on time and eat a lot of chicken wings at Mystic Celt.

Fast forward one hundred years until right now.

Or a few Wednesdays ago, anyway.

I got home from work, kissed my husband and my baby, and we ate dinner and hung out and then JW threw in some laundry.

And in that small, actually-sort-of-irritating move (because now there was laundry to fold), I couldn’t help but think about all those years ago and all those things that seemed not-too-exciting but actually help to make up the thread of a life that I love so very much.

And you know what, chicks?

He was right.

It is pretty great.

 

 

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