My Son is going to be 1!

Yesterday we celebrated my son's 11 month birthday. 11 months! I couldn't believe it. It addition to being shocked and amazed at the quickness of time, I realized I was in the final weeks of first birthday preparations. To keep up with the First Birthday Jones', so to speak, I was all over Etsy trying to find the most wonderful first birthday invite (check!), scoured the internet and my town in search of a caterer (check - with a side of sticker shock), and spent yesterday turning parts of my home into a kid friendly, birthday appropriate Halloween Haven (trial and error check!).

Although most of my friends consider Facebook Event invitations suitable and "we'll try to make it" a decent RSVP, I feel sending out actual printed invitations is indicative of four things.
1) This is a real event, not college party,
2) RSVP means RSVP - no probablys, we'll sees, or I'll let you know that week,
3) the names written on the invitation are the expected guests - don't bring your buddy because he is in town, see #1.
4) The start time is the start time - If you are going to be late, fine  but if you come at 5pm - well I will probably be napping.

I wrote in the past about the Lost Art of Excuse Me but I think there is also the Lost Courtesy of RSVP. Between Evites, Facebook, and mass emails - it is hard to keep up etiquette. Personally, I RSVP to everything and then check in to make sure said RSVP has been received but my husband takes more of the laissez-faire approach and wings it. Not cool. 

With all of this said I am constantly checking and rechecking my guest list, texting to make sure all of the invites reached their destinations, and itching for the RSVP date so I can properly stalk the MIA's and see what their plans are. Is this normal? Call it Type A personality, but I feel it most certainly is.

Because Austin is the first grandchild and his father and I are the only makers of grandchildren (as we are both only children), I feel this birthday party has taken on a life of its own. First of all, Austin is having two of them - one in New Jersey and one in Maryland  to accommodate all possible guests. Both have their respective cake, favors, and theme -because without a theme - what kind of parents would we be? Both  include guests with overnight requests, special diets, young children, and personal squabbles and both will include presents.Not that I have anything against gifts, but really - all I want is wipes, diapers, and baby food. The past few days Austin has had more fun playing with the laundry basket than anything that sings, blinks, squeaks, or twinkles.

I won't forget to remember you

Last night Austin was up at 4:22 for some reason. When I checked on him, he had his binky, he wasn't wet - he was just awake. Leaning over the crib, I rubbed his head to calm him down, restarted his mobile but no dice, so I scooped him up and carried him over to his recliner. He was asleep instantly. For a brief moment, I thought about carrying him back to his crib, but then realized I may not have too many more months of this. Unlike my husband, I am not wide in the chest and broad in the shoulders. At almost 11 months, Austin pretty much covers my torso when he lays on my chest and there are only so many positions for him to get comfortable. In any event, I thought I would savor the moment and stay with him in the chair.

September 2013

While he slept, I thought about all of the things DJ and I have done for him so far. Whether it is crawling around with him on the floor, playing fort, or making sure he gets a good night sleep, we are constantly showing him that he is loved. These are things my parents did for me to but I was too little to remember them. Things that I unknowingly took for granted because I didn't know what was happening but, I am guessing, I liked it. I don't know when Austin will have his first memory but I want him to know all the things that happened before that memory came to be. Similarly, I don't want to forget how he is now, his quirks, his habits, his personality. 

I said to DJ the other day that I wished Austin could know us now. Know how we revolved our days about his schedule, waved "hi" and "bye" incessantly in hopes he would pick up on it, made ridiculous sounds to see him laugh, danced with him in the kitchen, and experimented with different food combinations in his baby bullet. I want him to know how funny we are, how hard we tried, and how much he taught us in these first 11 months. I also want him to know that no matter now big he gets, he will never be too big to fall asleep on my lap. 

Donut Day

 Although National Donut Day is a different day of the year, my family has our own Donut Day. August 17th was my Nana's birthday and even if her latest stages of dimentia she knew that she wanted donuts as a birthday breakfast. This wasn't always the case, but as she aged we would all meet at her extended care facility's courtyard with a 12 pack of Dunkin and Box of Joe and celebrate with our matriarch.

Austin enjoying his first Donut Day 

At 4'11 inches my Nana was a one of a kind. Her refrigerator was always stocked with Jell-o and each time we left her house, she should always slip us a $10 or a $20 for "ice cream" or "something nice". She made the best meals, had the best basement to play in, and could be found watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune nightly. I remember growing out of a pair of snow boots and giving them to Nana as a hand-me-down. In return I got a coat that was a little to big. I was one of few 6th graders who could swap clothes with her Nana.

After she passed away, we decided to continue the tradition. The one day of the year where low-carb, low-fat, paleo, clean eating, or whatever the diet-of -the-day was was pushed aside and donuts reigned supreme. Inspired by my pear tart success the other day, I decided to bake my own donuts.


Do I dare call what lies below a recipe? No - because although I list four ingredients, there is no mixing and no measuring. It is pure idiot-proof bliss.

What you'll Need:
Pilsbury's Grand! Biscuits
Cinnamon
Sugar
Vegetable Oil


Step 1: Line a cookie tray with parchment paper or (if you are fancy like us) one of those baking sheets and preheat your oven to 425*F
Step 2 : Open a can of Pilsbury Grands! Biscuits. We used the honey flavored one
Step 3: Lay the biscuits out on the cookie sheet and using the lid from your vegetable oil container, punch out donut holes.
Separate and lay your "munchkins" alongside your donuts.
Step 4: Lighly coat all sides with vegetable oil
Step 5. Bake for 7 minutes
Step 6: Top your donuts in cinnamon and sugar (I eye-balled the amount in a bowl, blended, and added more as needed).

This recipe was borrowed from the following link and she coats hers with icing - a taste far to advanced for us: Easy Baked Donuts

Harnessing my Inner Martha

TWO POSTS TODAY!
(crazy!)

Ok so I am a maven in the kitchen when it comes to cooking but I NEVER bake. I stink at it, it is my hell, and I will be that mom that purchases baked good at the store because that is how I have been genetically wired. Sposito/Coccia women can cook but baking = no bueno.

I also never post about food but I was so proud of this little gem (and when you look at it, you'll think - wow, she really must suck at baking because that is the easiest thing ever, but I needed a personal win so let me have it)

I adapted this from Better Homes and Gardens and this is the original recipe: http://www.bhg.com/recipe/pies/country-peach-tart/

But this is what I did:
1 Pastry for Single-Crust Pie (or buy Pilsbury like I did)
2 Tsp of Truvia Baking Blend
1/4 cup of all purpose flour
1/4 tsp of nutmeg
1/4 tsp of cinnamon
3 peeled pears (from our PEAR TREE - take that Barefoot Contessa!)
1 Tsp of lemon juice

1. Preheat over to 375* and prepare pie crust
2. Line a baking sheet with foil, sprinkle lighlty with flour, and roll out pastry (circle, square, trapezoid, whatever tickets your fancy)
3. In a large bowl, stir together truvia, 4 tsps of flour, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Add pears and lemon juice.
Keep stirring until everything is coated
4. Mound pear mixture in the center of pastry, leaving a 2 inch border
5. Fold border up, over peaches and sprinkle top with a little more Truvia (just a little)
6. Bake 35 minutes and, if you feel fancy, broil on low for another 4.

It may not get an A for presentation but I was pretty pleased with myself 

Babies at the Beach

I am selfish at the beach. I like to sit, read my book, and bake. I don't go in the water, I prefer not to talk to anyone, and enjoy being on my own schedule. Ideally, I would go to the beach alone or with someone who has similar antisocial beach practices. It is my time to do my thing and that is that. 

Babies at the beach put a GIGANTIC wrench into my selfishness. First they need to be doused in sunscreen, then you have to put their bathing suits and tops on their slimey, slippery, squirmy, lotioned body. Next you have to take Baby and his towel, beach tent, cooler, bottles, formula, cold water, snacks, blankets, toys, and hat down to the beach with you, in addition to your own crap. Third, you have to watch him, carry him, make sure he doesn't eat sand, escape into the sun, cry, or pee out of his silly water diaper that doesn't hold pee (WTF!). 

You walk down to the water to dip his toes in

walk back up because he doesn't like it

walk back down to rinse off some bodily fluid

walk back up because he is hungry

walk back down because - maybe he didn't like the water the first time, but he might like it now

walk back up for pictures and maybe a nap.

It is insane!

I don't know what I was even thinking packing a book (rookie mistake) or why I thought my 9 month old would be advanced enough for sand toys (JV move) but I did learn that with babies at the beach there is strength in numbers and between four adults, including a husband that does not have the same affinity for lazing in the sand, I was able to get about an hour of uninterrupted tanning in..........over the course of 4 days. 

How does it feel to have a baby?

I was at a wedding this weekend and was randomly seated next to an old friend from college. We were catching up and when I said I was good friends with the bride from elementary school, he asked if my parents were there.

"No, they are at home with my son", I answered.

Austin vs, Plums

Shocked he repeated - "You have a son!? That's crazy....What is it like to have a kid?"

To be honest, this was the first time I had ever been asked that question. Sure, my friends asked about child birth, the pain, the process, and all the sexiness that comes with labor but how does it feel to actually bring him home and be yours - forever?

"Well, to be honest - it was hard for me at first". I explained. "One minute he wasn't there and then he is and your whole world is changed".
I explained that little things we take for granted, like running to Walgreens for toothpaste, are now pain-in-the-ass tasks. Sleeping, at first, is a blessing long taken for granted, and no matter how prepared you thought you were - you aren't.

Then there is the baby itself. In one of Jenny McCarthy's books she describes a newborn as a blob, and as bad as it sounds - I have to agree. Your newborn doesn't laugh, smile, or cuddle. He is crinkly, confusing, and indifferent to all of your parenting efforts. Cry, Eat, Sleep, Rinse, Repeat. You are at the mercy of this pattern during those early days and you might feel selfish as you think about all the new sacrifices you will need to make for the rest of your life (pause for dramatic effect).

As a new mom, you are wiped out and the new dad is overwhelmed. You will have a "what have we done" moment, maybe more than once and wonder when this baby's "real parents" are coming to pick him up.

Then - something wonderful happens -

At two months or so, your baby smiles at you and you are in love. A different love than you feel for your husband and your parents. This kind of love consumes you, your parent-dar is in full swing, you understand that "take-a-bullet" feeling.
Your body swells with this new feeling and you aren't even sure where it came from but it is over powering. You wonder how you ever lived without this little person in your life and you vow to never miss a moment with him. Of course, you relish in his nap time, but you melt when his eyes open and he smiles at you, when he reaches for you, when he holds on tight. When people ask, "will you have a second baby?", you honestly answer - "I don't know. I love my son so much - I don't know if I can make more love". You are brimming with warm fuzzies - your blood has transformed to warm milk and honey, your body is a pillow for your little man, your arms are a blanket, a shield, a fortress.

The smiles turn into laughs, your baby recognizes your face, your voice, your smell. You find yourself revolving your day around hugs, kisses, and playtime, and you love it.

That is what its like to have a kid.

Times - They are a Changin'

Austin - July 6, 2013

In 2010 seven friends and I rented a house in Ocean City, Maryland, stocked the fridge with beer, wine, liquor, and mixers, and lived off of pizza, boardwalk fries, and sub sandwiches for a week. That Fourth of July weekend, we imbibed, debauched, and were gluttonous. We, eight "adults", had no responsibilities, other than finding out the cover charges for area bars and when we had to arrive in order to beat them. We stayed out too late, we drank too much, we puked, we rallied, and we slept in as we pleased. It was glorious!

July 4, 2013 was a far cry from those care free days when our biggest worry was if rum tasted as good with Sprite as it did with Coke and what was the lowest SPF we could get away with, without burning.

I was up with Austin at 6:30 am, digging through his drawers for something Patriotic. I knew I would have to find several somethings since we go through a few outfits a day and I would need back ups. Daddy joined the ranks a little after 7 am and I hit the garage for a quick workout before BBQs commenced. (The Elizabeth of 2010 might have thought about working out, but the mere idea would have been exercise enough for that day).

Our first stop was a 3rd Birthday party for a family friend - low key - but with the oppressive heat we didn't stay long since we were having company at our house later in the day.

Fast forward to our party, Austin and his friend, Logan, spent about 15 minutes in a baby pool in the yard. The filling of the pool took longer than its actual use but at least it kept the boys cool and entertained while Dad fired up the grill. Sun dresses of the past, were traded in for gym shorts and an old tee shirt in case we experienced an explosive poop or rogue spit up. Everyone was doused in SPF 50.

Between chasing around newly mobile babies, spoon feeding pureed vegetables to Austin and supplying Logan with enough Gerber Puffs and Goldfish,  the adults were able to, at least, take a sip or two of wine and beer between activities. All was going smoothly until the heat of the day hit one of our little soldiers and all of Logan's Goldfish were regurgitated on the floor.

If this had happened at our beach house, the cuteness factor would have been non-existent and the puker would have been left to fend for himself. But, we, new mommies jumped into action grabbing carpet cleaner, wipes, paper towels, and Frebreeze. If I had glanced out the window during the raucous, I might have seen 2010 Elizabeth, peeking in with a vodka cranberry in her hand, sun burnt from a day a the beach, laughing at the unfolding chaos, but as it was - I didn't have time. By time the puke had been cleared, Austin was crawling away into another room and Logan was getting hugs and kisses from his mommy, being told everything was okay.