When we're home, anyway, and we've had a nice long
stretch of travel-free weekends lately.
I don't even remember what we did before Finley, except
for vague recollections of long runs followed by pitchers of mimosas. (The
nostalgia pangs are real.) When Finley was tiny, at-home weekend mornings
revolved around early morning feedings followed by a desperate attempt to grab
a few more hours of sleep (and repeat). And then she was bigger and still up insanely
early, but it was summer so I packed her up in the jogging stroller or dragged
her to the farmer's market just after dawn. Now that she reliably sleeps 11
hours or so and then likes to putter around the house all morning, we have
PJ-and-cartoon mornings and eat waffles. We're starting to really enjoy our
lazy Sunday mornings.
I just got a Belgian waffle maker that flips like the
ones in hotels, and I love it.
I am also kind of in love with that rare and surprisingly wonderful
thing, a Wednesday federal holiday. Thanks to Army leave regulations, there is
no way to turn a Wednesday into a long weekend- so I simply had Veterans' Day
off in the middle of the week. At work, we complained that it cost us a long
weekend, but in reality it was like a gift: we didn't feel obligated to plan
anything, like you do when you have a stretch of downtime, but we still got to
play hooky. At least I did, and Finley's daycare was closed. Seth still had
class, but he took the morning off and we went for a beautiful family bike ride
on the Capital Crescent Trail, where we managed to avoid the famously aggressive owl and found a new playground for Finley. Of course she preferred the leaf
piles.
The weekend felt like a bonus after a seemingly two day
work week, and we spent as much of it as we could outside enjoying our Indian
summer. Seth spent some Seth Time in a tree stand. I had a mini-meltdown about
how back-to-back pregnancies means I haven't gotten to have Amy Time (read:
long runs or rock climbs or more than one beer) in literally years (brought on
by the unfortunately-timed comment that this was "only" his second
time deer hunting this season.) Bless his heart. Seth tried to understand, and made me feel slightly better by making me
a fresh-squeezed mimosa and acquiescing to a family hike. (During which he
fished, Finley ate dirt, and very little actual hiking occurred.)
Still, outside time is outside time, and I'm trying hard
not to look gift horses in the mouth these days.
I also snuck out Sunday night for a much-needed girls'
dinner and a yoga benefit (for the Yellow Ribbon Fund) by candlelight. I ate
spicy food, did downward dog without little hands grabbing my ponytail, and
centered my chi. I also found myself thinking that Finley would love the
Christmas lights on Bethesda Ave.
Seth and Finley watched the Vikings game and celebrated the big win (and current status as NFC North champs) over the pork chops and cabbage I had left in the crockpot. Finley apparently loves sauerkraut. The house smelled like Warsaw in winter when I got home, but the world's easiest dinner prep was a hit- and went well with a Vikings victory, I'm told. (I've been dicing vegetables and mincing fresh herbs and grinding my own spices all these years, why again?)
Seth and Finley watched the Vikings game and celebrated the big win (and current status as NFC North champs) over the pork chops and cabbage I had left in the crockpot. Finley apparently loves sauerkraut. The house smelled like Warsaw in winter when I got home, but the world's easiest dinner prep was a hit- and went well with a Vikings victory, I'm told. (I've been dicing vegetables and mincing fresh herbs and grinding my own spices all these years, why again?)
Finley's also been busy with Christmas prep, which she loves. By which I mean,
perusing the ads
and shopping "for her cousins." (Thank you,
Lisa and Sara, for failing to warm me about the uber-creepy beanie boos.)
The photo of the week is from Thursday night bed check.
I found Finley sleeping in this incredibly relaxing position.
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