Of shorter to-do lists and our little brawler.

There was a time in the not-so-distant past when my weekend to-do list regularly read: "run an ultramarathon/ girls' night out/ hot yoga class/ go to farmer's market/ make something amazing from scratch/ clean house thoroughly/ do laundry/ mow the lawn/ throw a dinner party." Then if I had time left, I'd sometimes squeeze in a pedicure.

These days, I'm lucky to get in a run and a shower and a couple hours of sleep. Seth and I do all three in shifts. This weekend, we felt pretty accomplished because we managed to wash and fold laundry. Finley was super snuggly though, and the weather was crummy, so we did a lot of this.

Friday night, Mom and Dad came by to give us a date night, which was super sweet- except that all five or us are generally exhausted by the time we make it to the finish line of the endurance race that is the workweek.

Seth and I crammed down a couple fish tacos and a beer or two while trying to come up with coherent adult conversation and keep our eyes open at the same time. And we came home to Mom and Finley both asleep on the couch, which made us laugh out loud.

Finley also got to say hi to her cousins Lehua and Tyler (what did we do before FaceTime??), although Tyler slept through the whole thing. Lehua did not. I don't think she ever sleeps.

We also finally knocked out a big milestone: Finley's first date night out with Mom and Dad. We thought it was pretty fitting that we take her to Rock Bottom, our go-to getaway when Seth was an inpatient at Walter Reed. Finley was a big hit (and surprisingly well behaved), and the waiter assured us that we weren't the first parents to ever request a beer mug of hot water to warm a bottle in. So eventually we may emerge from our newborn-induced hermithood. Nice to know it can be done, anyway, even if I spent much of the evening staring suspiciously at other diners in order to ensure they weren't exhibiting signs of whooping cough or measles.

And, today Finley had her first parent-teacher conference. We thought it seemed a little ridiculous (what were they going to discuss? her grades? truancy?) but gamely took the morning off so we could discuss diaper changes and head control with her teachers. (It came as no surprise to her doting Dad, the star of daycare dropoffs, to hear that she is practically a prodigy in both departments.) I was just delighted that I finally got to witness the truth about The Oliver Situation. Seth had not been exaggerating. She really does want to punch that little crybaby. Just look at her brandish her tiny fists.

It has also become apparent that we are committing a daycare fashion faux pas (and that there is such a thing.) Why anyone would make a garment for infants other than a zip-up sleeper with footies is completely beyond me. But lots of the other kids show up wearing outfits. With buttons and zippers and jackets and socks that they somehow seem to keep on. One little girl got dropped off wearing a fur. coat. Seriously.Sorry, Finley. Not happening.

So here goes another Monday... and the weather channel is making dire storm warnings, so that should be hell on the ol' commute.

My favorite photo of the week is this collage, of Finley's "tummy time" routine. She obligingly hangs out and looks around for a little bit, then rolls herself over-- and cheers for herself. It gets us every time.

Long weekends ain't what they used to be...! (They're better.)

There was a time when the January/ February long weekends invariably meant new snow boots and fresh powder and copious amounts of après-ing. A couple of years ago for MLK weekend I even managed a double whammy: two days at the beach, an all-night drive, and two more in the snow. Long weekends are sacred, and I always feel an obligation to squeeze every last second of fun possible out of them.

This year, I was a little bummed at the thought of spending four whole days hanging out at home, but the weather was too cold to do anything big outside with Finley, and our February travel schedule loomed, hectic and more than a little intimidating.

So home it was! And we ended up enjoying the heck out of our low key family time. And finally caught up on some sleep.

Friday I had the day off and daycare was open, so- feeling like terrible, deadbeat parents- we dropped Finley off and went for a swim and a leisurely lunch. Finley didn't seem any the worse for the wear, and it was nice for us to get to catch up. Seth always makes dates special (even if they tend more toward lunch than dinner these days, when we can manage them) and sent flowers. And insisted on dessert.

Otherwise, our weekend involved sleeping in and football and a mimosa or three. Finley cheered for the Seahawks, and I managed a commissary trip. (Seth used the grocery bags for Finley's first art project- not her favorite.) After a lot of hibernating due to the weekend's "wintry mix," the sun finally peeked through Monday and we took the princess for a walk on the canal. She mostly slept.

She also proved to be a rotten sous chef on risotto night (one of my favorite treats to myself, complete with La Boheme and polishing off the unused pinot). Finley, it seems, has been swayed by her Dad's preference for Five Finger Death Punch (seriously, that's a band??) and starting fires. So this bodes well.

We capped off our lazy weekend with one of Finley's (rare but invariably ill-timed) trademark "you guys have to work tomorrow, so I'm wide awake at two am" evenings. After lullabies and rocking and bouncing and cursing and mountains of bottles, you eventually just get loopy. It was a funny moment that we'll no doubt look back on with fondness someday (although not one day this week): Seth and I, goofy from sleepiness and frustration, giving in and cracking up with our wide-awake and laughing baby.

It wasn't fresh powder or hot buttered rum, but I'll take weekends at home with my little family any day.

Two photos of the week: Finley cheering during the playoffs, and waking up after her hike. Both made me laugh.

Tag!

Last night, Finley and I fell asleep on the couch during the 2nd quarter of the National Championship football game. Seth stayed up and watched the game alone, and Finley and I commenced our nightly routine of feeding and pumping and bottlefeeding and trying to catch a few hours somewhere in there, all the while hoping our schedules eventually synced. She ate at 5, but only a little, so I pumped at 6 and started prepping bottles for day care and trying to get my stuff out the door. As I was leaving, I heard her "I'm starving" cry. I raced back in, warmed up a bottle, held it while she ate and napped sporadically, glanced at my watch, and eventually shook Seth awake to hold the bottle so I could get to work. I felt terrible about it.

"Tag team parenting" is rough. We're hanging in there, and feeling very self-congratulatory about it, but it is not easy. I know Seth feels bad when he sees me set three nightly alarms and then drag myself to the gym before work. I myself have done exactly one day care dropoff, though, and screwed it up royally (earning myself a "that's not how Finley's Daddy does it!" lecture). I will be forever grateful that Seth takes that production off my hands every day, and- apparently- pulls it off with panache. He picks her up too, and it's so nice to walk in after a long day- and a longer commute- and see my two favorite people hanging out. I never forget how lucky I am.

We do pretty well with the juggling act, and occasionally even talk about news, or sports. We mostly manage to get something resembling dinner on the table, haven't run out of clean clothes yet, and this weekend I even vacuumed the floors. But we also sometimes fall asleep mid-conversation, and last week I caught myself using the pretty new (unworn) lingerie Seth gave me for Christmas to wipe up baby spit.

Some day we'll look back and think it was all kind of hilarious.
Right?

Finley's two week appointment was last week. She's in the 75th percentile for weight and the 38th for height. Of course I took this as an admonition that I needed to do more to fatten my baby up. Seth took it as a sign that she is an athlete.

She got her shots that day too, and took them like a champ. Luckily, vaccination day coincided with our first big snow of the year, and the roads looked like this:

so I opted out of the horrific commute and stayed home to snuggle her,

which lasted all of about an hour before the shot that the doctor claimed would make her sleepy wore off, and she spent the rest of the day doing this:

We had a quiet weekend at home, having originally contemplated taking Finley to the Eastern Shore for some pheasant hunting. When the weather forecast called for an eight degree morning, we capitulated to the demands of having an infant, and I stayed home while Seth went to try out the Binelli shotgun I got him last year for his birthday. (It was a rousing success.)

Mom and Dad volunteered to give us another date night Saturday, so Seth met me at their house, all ready for a night on the town. After a long, cold day, though, and tempted by the smells of Mom's apple pie and the sounds of football on TV, we decided to spend date night hanging out at their house instead. Which was pretty funny. This is what date night looks like these days. We wouldn't change a thing.

It's a crazy week in the Nieman house now, as I juggle appellate arguments and Seth heads to Annapolis every day for a research study. This morning I got all of 15 minutes of workout time in the pool, and was grateful for it. Tomorrow I get to figure out how to drop Finley off, squeeze into my ASUs, and get to the Court of Appeals downtown, in a snowstorm, while juggling a breastpumping schedule. Always an adventure!

And always, always worth it. 

In "photo of the week" news, Finley cheered hard for the Bison this weekend as they won their fourth straight national FCS title. (Her father dressed her. Obviously.)

She also figured out how to make the acid trip-y flower on her bouncer arch spin. This photo should be called, "determination."

Ringing in the New Year

It turns out that New Year's Eve as new parents is very, very different. Mom and Dad watched Finley- on her best behavior this time, it seems, in a glaringly obvious attempt to redeem herself- while Seth and I went to dinner. We did not get dressed up, or wear party hats, or stay out until the ball dropped. We went to the new Chuy's, my favorite Austin (read: very casual) Tex-Mex chain, and had Shiner Bocks and fajitas and caught up on non-baby news and were home long before midnight. I fell asleep on the couch. So did Finley.

New Year's Day, on the other hand, looks pretty much the same as it always has. This was Seth and Finley at 10am:

Seth made his world-famous deer chili, which requires every spice in the cabinet and cooking utensil in the house, and leaves me scraping tomato chunks off the ceiling for weeks.

And we all watched a little football. (Seriously, Finley actually watches the game like this.)

It was a nice, quiet rainy day at home, and the perfect way to kick off the new year. 2014 has been very, very good to us, and we're excited to see what new adventures 2015 holds for the Niemans.

In other news, I'm attempting to implement some rules around the house, since establishing bedtime has not been successful thus far.

So far, the only one that's stuck is that Finley has to read before she watches TV. I'll take it.

Also, Seth played flag football on Sunday, and Finley loved watching her Dad. I have a feeling that she won't be quite as thrilled at trail race finish lines- which aren't nearly as exciting- when Mom gets back in shape. 

Annndddd (this is my favorite), our precocious (we think, anyway) 2 month old is making baby noises! Which is beyond adorable. (Hope this video works.)

The photo of the week is one of my all-time favorites: Finley cheering for the Lions (inexplicably) during last night's game. According to Seth, she loves the playoffs.

It's hard to believe the holiday season is already over (although the tree is still standing), but here's to health, happiness, and maybe a Vikings win in 2015!