Finley's First Super Bowl

Seth has two evening classes this semester, which caused no end of consternation in our household while we tried to figure out how in the world we were going to get Finley picked up from daycare by 6 on those days. We finally decided that I could work "flex hours" one day a week (making Wednesdays my new least favorite thing ever, thanks to the hoop-jumping required to be at work by 7:30, forego lunch and a workout, run out the door at 4:30, and sweat bullets while racing across town in traffic, only to find myself the last deadbeat parent picking up her kid at 5:59.)

No person could manage this nervous breakdown- inducing sequence of events two days in a row, so it's Mom and Dad to the rescue! this semester. On Tuesdays, Finley spends the day with Ana and Ata, where I can visit at lunch and drink beer with Dad after work under the pretense of waiting out traffic. I feel terrible because I know how impossible it is to get anything done with the littlest (but highest maintenance) Nieman around, but Mom has been a champ about it- and even made us a pizza to take home for dinner last week. That's what I call winning.

Even with the big assist, making it to Friday feels like crossing the finish line of an endurance race these days. We still try to carve out time for "date night," but more often than not it looks like this:

 

Finley's getting bigger and stronger every day, and has finally started taking a (mild) interest in her playmat. Now that she can grab things on her own, I'm pretty sure that frog's days are numbered.

She also got to attend her first Super Bowl party on Sunday. (Made easier by the fact that it was in her living room.) We had the Ballesteroses over, and between several outfit changes for Finley, keeping three year old Gabe entertained, and food/ beer duty (although let's be honest, most of the appetizers were Trader Joe's originals), I caught about three seconds of the game. But I did see the halftime show, and enough commercials to realize that the quality had gone seriously downhill. And was grateful that I had finally managed to get the tree taken down (as it would not have survived the party.)

Finley, dressed- obviously- by her father, who didn't want the world to forget that she's a Vikings fan, stayed up for most of the game. (We apparently both started snoring just in time to miss the final, nailbiting play.) I am not exaggerating when I say that she seems to be genuinely interested in the game.

Even after a late night and half of a Monday commute, I'm still laughing at the photos of the week. The first is a screenshot of a text Seth sent me last week, proving that Finley really does have terrible taste in music (and her Daddy wrapped around her little finger.)

And this picture doesn't do the outfit justice, but when I came home from Whole Foods yesterday, Seth had put his daughter in this unbelievable outfit. According to him, she wanted to wear Marshawn's colors- but required purple booties to show her Vikings loyalty. And he had done a major hack job on the hat to get rid of a giant red Christmas bow, because "Finley thinks bows are stupid."