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.