Away I Went

So two weeks ago tonight I was settling into the Residence Inn in lovely Man-ass VA outside (unfortunately well outside) DC. I had gone away for work for the first time in Gracie's short life. I had attained Gold status on American (not nearly as much as the dude in "Up in the Air" but a lot of flying nonetheless) thanks to this same trip to a windowless secret facility full of dweebs, germs and long shifts trying to figure out what had gone wrong now with our overly complex software. But, I had a reprieve for the end of the pregnancy and birth. It had been lovely. Alas, the first time back was not terrible (only 3 nights away and the weather there was actually lovely) but certainly not easy. Of course, I got cute pictures of what I was missing, which was the best-slash-worst. Gracie laughing at her reflection.

Pops bonding with his granddaughter.

Nana bonding with her entourage.


Clearly, as they have all along, the grandparents have been dynamite and so helpful in relieving the load. They'll be called on even more starting next week when Kelly goes back to work and I go to part-time.

Anyway, the trip back was fun for me. I went with BWI for the direct flights to Austin and was rewarded on the return side with a brush with Mitch McConnell in the bathroom. There was some weird looking police guy right outside the bathroom and I was busy looking at him while walking in when I nearly ran into the very nicely dressed dude with a perma-scowl on his face. So, yeah, he was leaving; no stall foot tapping or anything like that. Then I stopped at the bar for a beer while the guy next to me literally downed 3 shots and a beer in no more than 10 minutes. Being a fan of the Wire and being near Baltimore, this was quite fun.

When I got back, we decided to treat ourselves and yet again Nana & Pops helped by babysitting while we had a date night at Zoot. It was good enough, but we'd rather stay closer in and hit up Wink instead. In the following days we tried eating out a few more places noting that we needed to step it up with Gracie and get her out and get comfortable taking her with us places. Man, taking kids/babies to restaurants is tricky. We tried this neighborhood place that's kind of bar/restaurant that used to be very family friendly and lots of outside seating. But it had clearly become more bar, less restaurant. That was awkward. You're the people with a baby in a bar. Felt like that scene from "Sweet Home Alabama" (yes, I watch Reese Witherspoon rom-coms!) where she's back in AL and she goes to a bar and this girl's in there with her baby and says something like "yeah, it's hard since she's still on the tit!" Exactly. Anyway, we love eating out and definitely don't want to give that up now that we're DISKs so we have to rework the fav list and cross-check with family friendly. Extra work, dammit!

Of course going out to this bar (let's just call it that now; I'll provide the link for Child Protective Services later) also reminded me that I didn't just physically go on a trip. I've gone away in another sense -- I've started to slowly lose my mind. We walked out of that bar forgetting not only the diaper bag, but also I apparently had dropped my jacket somewhere between the car and the bar (we're terrible parents!) and it was lying there as we walked out. The night before when we went out for date night alone, we got all the way (20 minutes) to my parents' house before realizing no breast milk in the bottle. I had to drive back to the house and get it just in time for our reservation. Then the following Monday, I left my travel bag with my work computer at home. We also got lost in our adjoining neighborhood at one point. Son of a bitch! This is not me. Back in college I smugly (but tacitly) walked around with a bit of self satisfaction about my ability to manage and remember everything without some elaborate datebook. You know, back in "those" days a lot of folk had these thick appointment books with a calendar and they had all their assignments, upcoming tests, etc. in there. We didn't have Google Calendar or widespread use of Outlook with reminders and shit. No, we had thick datebooks and they were clunky and awful and we liked it! Anyway, I didn't use one. I kept nearly everything straight in my head just fine. So to see now that I can't do it anymore and that I need to post reminders all over the house and my office (in addition to leveraging all kinds of digital tools) is a tad depressing. 32 going on 73...

Well, that's all for this installment. We had another visitor in town last week that we'll recap soon. Here's a hint, she loves Big Red. Not just the gum... Oh, and I finally wore and subsequently threw away my last pair of boxer shorts. Saved the gaudiest for the last!

Ciao! Now where's the damn laptop power cord?

Of Resurrection and Regression

Well, it's been a week since Easter and we had a whale of time with guests in town, visits to BBQ shacks and wineries, and many a glamour shot (seriously, I used to love going by this place in the mall growing up; there were always rumors of someone from school being one of the featured "models" tacked up on display in the store) session with baby Gracie. But the post had been delayed this past week because the aforementioned little one had a bit of a regression in the sleep department. We had become accustomed to her sleeping pretty much all night from around 10p to 6a'ish. Experienced parents, baby books and our own notion of Karma told us to keep this more or less to ourselves, not to gloat, and just thank our lucky stars and continue to knock on wood. Which we did! But early in the week, I rolled over at 12:30a expecting to see more 6's and less 12's to the sound of someone waking up, fussing and demanding some milk. Then again at about 4a. Oof! I had forgotten this lifestyle. And it continued through the week, so arriving at home at night left little energy to giddily recount the previous weekend's events. But, alas, Grace has strung together a couple longer nights and we've rested up so the look back to last weekend is ready.

So, Auntie Janel and Uncie Mike (pictured here in their own glamour shot way)

decided that instead of spending yet another weekend enjoying freedom and all the delectable delights of Denver, that they would spend it with us mostly sitting around and watching a fairly undeveloped human cycle through her sleep-defecate-eat routine. AND! they would help hold, rock and expertly photograph said lady as well. God bless 'em!

They arrived Friday and mostly hung out around the house capturing some great photos of the GRAPEs. Proof:

Then, in an effort to show our guests more of a good time and to prove to ourselves that we really can take our daughter out in public without a major catastrophe occurring, we hopped in the car and traveled to our favorite BBQ haunt that doesn't involve getting up at 7a. Grace was excited

and so were we. The ribs are exquisite, the sausage unique and the fatty brisket was actually better than remembered. But, the deliciousness comes with a wait...always. Witness the line out the door

But finally after waiting and drooling as we saw the firepits and the meaty goodness being prepared, we were rewarded with a record $60 worth of meat. We promptly consumed nearly all of it with Grace watching on seemingly jealous.

Feeling drunk on the meat and buzzed on the Lone Star, we brazenly set off on a hill country drive en route to the as-big-as-Texas Mandola winery. Upon arrival we found that while Grace did not eat the BBQ, she pooped as though she had. We had leakage; new outfit needed stat! And so we cleaned her up in the back of the Subaru only to find later that the swanky winery had a changing table more plush than ours at home in the men's room. Doh! Daddy lesson #317. Nonetheless, we lingered and indulged on the larger sampling session while little Texas debutants, excessively tanned middle-aged men, and other folk hovered around us.

We returned back to Nana & Pops's house for an evening of frivolity to cap a busy, enjoyable and parentally successful day.

On Easter day itself we took it a little easier. We started with the Easter tradition of breakfast tacos (?) and egg-themed chocolates. I particularly enjoyed those.

And after the requisite Whole Foods tour and a bath for Gracie, we headed out for an obligatory spring-time Texas wildflower photo shoot. On the previous day's drive we had noticed the impressive crop this year so we knew the photo gettin' would be good. Observe the impressive results thanks to Uncle Mike photography skills.

Then they had to go back to Denver :( THE END!

Until September . . .

Well, coach K is looking smug and happy now, I finished well back in the pack in the tournament challenge and I have this blog to thank for forever documenting my belief that Butler would not even get past UTEP. And so I bid farewell to heavy sports watching until September. I don't need 87 playoff games in the NBA to remind me how much it sucks nor do I need to listen to Joe Morgan wax on about Poo-holes.

Instead we'll focus on the family and an Easter weekend wrap-up is forthcoming. Lots of Gracie pics and piles of food. What could be better?

PS - silver lining of Butler losing. The last shot featured a great pick on a Dukie

Friday Montage

Here's a Gracie montage to get you through until the weekend!


Getting warmed up for the photo shoot...


Oh gosh, what am I supposed to do again?!


This is my naughty pose. Or perhaps I'm just pooping?

Hey, you took me off guard! Someone photoshop out those belly wrinkles!


Enough. I am le tired.

Happy Easter everyone!!

Things You Wear

No, this is not an answer on the $25,000 pyramid (or a farce of the pyramid). Rather it's a theme that's been coming up a lot lately. This morning Kelly announced to Grace that we needed to find her something to wear for the day (or maybe for a quarter of the day until she craps all over it and we replace it with just a t-shirt) and then subsequently announced that we should go for the all-in-one outfit. I was jealous. I had to put on 8 things this morning (undershirt...kills the dress time) and none of them easily snapped at the crotch. And speaking of crotches (nether segue!), what I will almost never wear again is boxer shorts. I wore my penultimate pair of boxer shorts this weekend and this morning tossed the overly stretched elastic into the trash (yes, I said "weekend" for the duration of the wearing and Monday morning was the time I took them off; don't judge me!). I'm down to my last (and loudest) pair of boxers, which I noticed were in the dryer. I'll let Kramer explain the demise of boxers in our household.

And jumping from my nethers to Kelly's baby sustenance providers, we bought a breast pump over the weekend. More accurately, I walked into Babies R Us by myself with a 20% off coupon (thank you Wallettes!), waited in line surrounded by women, had a mother of 3 swear by the pump I was buying and then left $300 lighter and adequately emasculated. But no matter -- now Kelly can pump hands free and be an on-the-go gal like the lady on the pump's box suggests.


But as the boxers go away since they clearly had no bearing on fishy count as the story goes (read this, I esp. love the "Another tip" at the end), and the pump becomes part of the Kelly outfit calculus, the biggest evolution in the things GRAPE JELLY wears involves Grace. Her wardrobe is constantly changing due to weather and to (mainly) growth. She hit 9 lbs 5 oz at the pedi 1-month appointment last week and was trending totally average (a phrase never to be uttered again about my SPECIAL daughter!). So we will probably never again see her in this fleece number as the weather warms.


Those outfits go into the "who knows?" pile whereby a maybe sister could wear them again, or a might-happen brother has to slip it on when the laundry is running high. And that's as much fun/as terrifying to think about as the summer clothes that await Gracie in the next drawer down. But alas we shall focus on the one baby we DO have now and her burgeoning vision and voice that she showed off under the mobile this weekend.

One Month Old!

Gracie is one month old! We almost can't believe it. Here are a couple of videos of milestones - her first bottle and one of her first baths (videographer credit: Papa Bob). She's growing up right before our eyes!

Happy St. Patricks Day

And Happy Bracket Buster Day! But before we tear up the brackets and tear down the nets, last night it was Gracie's first "holiday." We celebrated with gusto, although Gracie did not unwrap a present on her first "holiday." Instead we unwrapped a present of hers that was wrapped around her waist. And what was in it was colorful for sure, but alas not green. Anyway, on to the festivities.

Gracie enjoyed some green grass outside . . .


some time in Nana the namesake's arms a few days ago on Nana's birthday . . .


and then hunkered down with us for a night in on St. Pattys. We tried to capture the call-Child-Protective-Services-now family self-portrait with Gracie holding a Guinness bottle but she was having none of it:


So we let her hang out while mom and dad chowed down (in very green shirts) on a bountiful feast that Kelly prepared oh so well. Corned beef with potatoes and carrots, along with a horseradish-mustard sauce that was as divine as it was nostril-flaring-spicy. And of course there was the booze. The spread makes you salivate, no?


And even though our black-and-tans were more just blacks (how do those bartenders do it?!), we toasted a night well done and capped it off with a viewing of "Couple's Retreat" (some good lines but not the best).


So, yes, not exactly bars, green beer, beads and vomiting. But pretty good times with a 3-week-and-1-day old. Now, let's get the Sony fired up and watch Vandy tumble, the Bears roll and Butler make an early exit due to the "Gonzaga Syndrome" whereby a team that was traditionally a poor seed and made many runs over a few tourneys finally gets a pretty good seed and then promptly falls on its face. Heeyaa!