T. Swift and stolen french fries.

Seth sings Taylor Swift to Finley in the bathtub. It sounds totally ridiculous, complete with high-pitched "ooooo ooooo"s, and occasionally includes dance moves. I've snuck up the stairs more than once to try to catch it on video, but have been unsuccessful so far. You'll just have to take my word for it. It's the cutest thing in the world.

That was the highlight of my week. Otherwise, it was the usual grind- albeit a four-day one, due to our long weekend in Massachusetts. I had a bunch of high-level, short-suspense actions that really required me to work late so I could prep the general officer briefs that went with them. Since Seth's mid-week night classes mean I have to leave early instead, my week was a mad scramble of insanely early mornings and skipped workouts and power bar meals at my desk. We had sandwiches for dinner and planned our schedules via email. Not my favorite.

Thankfully, we made up for it with a nice, fall-like, cloudy weekend at home. We cooked and cleaned and and mowed our ratty-looking yard. Seth butchered our unwieldy shrubbery again and I baked cookies. Mom and Dad came in "to town" from the mountains, and hung out with Finley and did all of the chores we had been putting off.

Finley also showed them her new sleep number bed. It was a hit.

On Sunday we had been productive enough that we felt like we deserved some downtime. I made a long-overdue hair appointment and took Finley hiking and to the park at Seneca Creek, and Seth got to play golf. Finley and I were in Gaithersburg anyway, so I dragged her to Target to try on Halloween costumes. It did not go well. She's probably going to be a baby with food and snot on her clothes for Halloween- she will definitely not be anything that requires a hat. I had to bribe her with goldfish crackers, which I had vowed I would never do, to get her to stop screaming after I put the giraffe hood on her.

So there's that. But she recovered in time to pull of this incredible move (definitely the photo of the week) at dinner. She had sweet potatoes- the baked fries were for Mom and Dad, but they looked ridiculous. So she helped herself.

Wedding weekend in beautiful Massachusetts.

It was with some trepidation that we approached Finley's first weekend wedding adventure, set to kick off with a pre-dawn flight on Friday morning at the tail end of a long week during which I had spent every free second fanatically packing and organizing. I was in the wedding and the schedule was chock full of events, so we worked and reworked the details of transportation and Finley logistics and bedtimes.

Finley, on the other hand, did not have to worry about any of that. She woke up still in her PJs at the airport and split a crab omelet with her Dad,

which made her sleepy for the quick flight to Boston.

Once there, she got to do some sightseeing, on which I insisted even though it was unseasonably sweltering for the northeast in September. This is my less-than-enthusiastic adventurers- in "Beat Navy" gear- at Old Ironsides, and unimpressed by the Bunker Hill Monument (which looks exactly like the Washington Monument, only smaller, as they pointed out.) Of course, Bunker Hill wound up being popular because they both took a nap in the grass, and also because it was within walking distance of an Old Historic Tavern. Finley had the chicken. Dad had a couple of Old Historic Beers. This perked everyone up a little.

(It's beginning to look like all the Niemans do on vacation is eat, which may not be too awfully far from the truth. We also- no kidding- made a stop at Wahlburgers later.)

We eventually made it to the beach house we were sharing with friends who also have young kids, a genius vacation-planning move that we kind of lucked into but will remember in future. There were plenty of spare hands, a neverending supply of animal crackers, people who were nonplussed by the "whose diaper smells?" conversation in the middle of breakfast, and a wakeup-to-bedtime schedule that matched ours. Of course, we also had the gorgeous top floor apartment to ourselves,

and it boasted this balcony view:

Finley, who is thankfully back to sleeping nights, had a terrific vacation sleeping in, scoring family snuggle time (with a view!), exploring the beach house, snatching toys from other kids, and scavenging for food. She devoured her first donut hole when Mom wasn't looking, and spent the next several mornings searching for Dunkin' Donuts boxes. She also ate her first sand, and decided that she hates the beach, much to my dismay. We'll keep working on that one.

Seth got to play golf on some beautiful courses, even though he unsuccessfully protested the decree that the pack & play was a more essential travel item than his golf clubs. I toted Finley along to wedding prep events so he could get in some downtime, and she charmed hairstylists and dogs and photographers, and threw the occasional temper tantrum in some seriously scenic places. She was a hit- if a handful- at the welcome party and the rehearsal dinner, and we eventually nailed the trick of eating fast and making an abrupt exit at bedtime.

Steph and Jack's wedding was beautiful, with a priest and a rabbi officiating jointly and the observance of traditions from both faiths. We got to catch up with old friends. Of course Seth got conned into hoisting chairs for the hora, and I melted when I saw him dancing with his daughter (who hated her dress and let everyone know it.)

Finley ate both of our dinners and refused to go to sleep until right before we were about to throw in the towel and leave, at which point she passed out in the boba wrap and let me put her hearing pro on so she'd stay that way. (We thought this was a genius plan.) I ate her cake and didn't feel bad about it.

Sadly, the lighting was weird and our attempts at a dressed-up family photo came out streaky.

The next morning we had another early airport run, this time with Boston traffic to contend with. We were beyond bummed to say goodbye to vacation and our ocean view. Luckily we made it in time to check our 8 million bags (we had the complicated airport routine down by now) and get our ravenous beast some breakfast.

It did not have the desired effect this time, and we paid our dues as parents-of-screaming-child on this plane ride, which was blessedly short but yielded the photo of the week: Finley reading us the safety card. Which she examines diligently every time.

 

The weekend takeaway was that it can be done! (with two people adept at baby juggling and a lot of planning and packing and flexibility and willingness to jump up in the middle of dinner, as well as a healthy dose of imperviousness to public tantrums). We had survived, and pulled off a nice mini-vacation to boot. 

And now it's back to 12 loads of laundry and the commuting grind. We're already counting down to our next vacation...

The best things in life are free...

... or at least yours for the price of a baby bike trailer or a half pound of aged cheddar.

Which is good, because the Niemans are officially on a budget.

Everybody in the Walters family is a cautious spender, and wildly averse to credit card balances. My parents paid cash for their retirement spread in Arkansas as well as their car, and I know for a fact I'm considered the most profligate spender of the four of us kids by virtue of the fact that I spring for organic eggs at the grocery store.

Seth and I finally switched our accounts around to have the bulk of our paychecks going into a joint account (due to the baby-driven increase in household expenditures), but I admit I've been too busy to check account balances for the last couple months, and had been forgetting to pay my personal account my "allowance," as agreed. When my Fayetteville house came due for some big repairs last week, I finally had to sort out my finances and went to collect my "backpay."

It was then that I noticed that our joint account was dangerously low.

I set about combing through our accounts, trying to figure out what had happened, and then I remembered. Seth is not a cautious spender. At all. Nor is he averse to using his credit card, which debt I had had to insist he pay off before we got married. He had not only done that, he had paid off his new truck, and I didn't give the momentary red flag a second thought.

Until now. It turns out that Seth spends more on vitamins and supplements in a month than I do on shoes in a year. I couldn't bring myself to even total the green fees and shotput accessories. AND we had just purchased an insanely expensive new Sleep Number bed. I. Was. Furious. Some belt-tightening was going to have to happen.

Now that I've calmed down I can say I'm grateful that we're not destitute by any means, and I'm sure it's something every couple has to work through. It's probably even good for us, and it's definitely partly my fault for not having caught the issue sooner. Still, I spent the latter half of last week and much of the weekend sulking because cleaning up our spending meant no budget for the occasional maid service I had finally decided I would indulge in. And quickly become extremely excited about.

But it was a good reminder not to get too complacent. I frequently get notes from friends and acquaintances who remark that Seth and I have the perfect life or family or marriage, and it's grounding and humbling and healthy to have to think "no. No, nobody does. And if you only knew what my husband spent at Cabela's last month...!"

That thought did not make me feel a ton better about scrubbing bathrooms, though.

Luckily, our week had plenty of light moments too.

Finley helped her Dad grate a bowl full of cheese for enchiladas Tuesday night, and she helped herself to a sizeable handful. We laughed until we were rolling on the floor.

She also made it clear that she adores the new expensive bed. Weekend family snuggle time is now roomier, with softer sheets and a massage function. Not to mention a Dad so happy about having finally gotten a decent night's sleep that he's willing to share his breakfast.

On Saturday she "helped" Dad clean up the man cave while watching football.

And on Sunday was rewarded with a bike ride and a picnic on the canal.

All in all, not a bad week. Especially not for Finley, who is still throwing bedtime temper tantrums but is sleeping much better at night. There is light, it seems, at the end of that particular tunnel.

My favorite photo of the week is this one, from Sunday's (beautiful and finally fall-like!) bike ride. Finley can take or leave sippy cups, but is obsessed with sport bottles.

Labor Day + the sleepless aftermath.

We're a week late with Finley's ten month picture, which seems to be the story of our lives these days. Her nine month doctor's appointment was this week, too. (She's healthy as a horse, if on the low end of the weight charts. She eats like one too, so we're not worried.)

We're feeling a little rat race-y these days, with Seth back in school and Finley keeping us up nights. We're in sleep training hell and her aversion to sleep has become almost violent. Luckily we know it's a phase, and we're determined to persevere. Otherwise the sight of our precious baby thrashing like one possessed the instant her eyes start to droop (presumably to ward off impending sleep) would have already prompted the oft-threatened sale to the gypsies. We're currently taking turns sitting by her crib at night while she screeches and tries to climb out of her crib, meaning that at least one of us is a zombie every day and our evenings mostly consist of trying to keep our eyes open long enough to get Finley in her crib for round 1.

I was lucky enough to escape for a (super quick) break last weekend, and spent just over 24 hours in Austin for Steph's bachelorette weekend. Seth had reinforcements, Finley got to snuggle with Grandma Jayne, and I got a blissful afternoon on Lake Travis and a trip to Rudy's BBQ. It was worth the whirlwind trip and 6am flight, plus I was home in time to enjoy part of Labor Day weekend. We took Finley to the driving range, where she excelled at mini golf.

We were bummed to see Jayne go, and Finley had to bid a sad goodbye to Ana & Ata too. Rough week all around.

Although there were some high points. I came out on the resident CGSC list, which means I should be able to opt for an LL.M. the first year we're at West Point, thereby avoiding complete career suicide as a result of the move. Plus, it's a nice back pat to be on the selectee list.

And Finley discovered chicken enchiladas. Needless to say, they were a hit.

My favorite photos of the week: finally big enough to ride on Dad's shoulders. And obviously delighted by it.