Birthdays these days.

Birthdays are hard to celebrate when you're a grownup. For us, anyway. I have friends who are forever sharing pictures of the special occasions they pull off for their significant others omni anno, with scavenger hunts and surprise event tickets and special date nights. It's adorable, and intimidating.

 

We have a one year old, two school schedules, and beltway commutes. We managed a late afternoon lunch date for Seth's birthday, and I bought him a juicer to replace the one he burned up after less than two weeks.

OK, fine. It was a really great lunch date with mimosas and bleu cheese fries, and we went home afterwards and lounged in bed in front of the TV until it was time to pick up Finley. It felt pretty luxurious.

 

And it's a really, really nice juicer.

 

So I'm telling myself that I did OK on Seth's birthday. Which is fortunate, since our spur of the moment birthday eve dinner with Finley was characterized by tears, thrown silverware, and my still chewing dinner on my way out the door after Seth had finally had it and dragged the little terrorist to the car. We may have reached the "family restaurant meals are on hold for awhile" phase.

Still, it was a nice short week, even if we did come down with colds (for once, I'm blaming Seth's fellow college students instead of Finley's daycare buddies for the germs) and decide to spend our weekend recovering at home. Seth threw at his first track meet of the season despite being under the weather, and was happy with his "baseline effort." Finley helped me with chores,

 and was rewarded with a trip to the park.

The weather was gorgeous on Saturday, so we scrapped museum plans and went for a family hike. (We discovered that nothing makes Finley happier than watching her Dad break sticks. Argument #436783642 for not buying a ton of expensive toys.)

Sunday was rainy, which delighted Finley since she had the playground all to herself.

She also got a Barnes and Noble date out of the deal (and a bite of my Georgetown cupcake). All in all, a pretty nice weekend at home for the little beast. 

My favorite photo this week is an action shot of finley knocking down Seth's carefully constructed train at the bookstore.

And now we're busy getting ready for Sara's arrival tomorrow! The Tibetan singing bowls have arrived (don't ask), and I have restrained myself and stayed out of the nutella- so far...

Long weekend, grandparent love, and lots of walking.

Remember how they used to name Friends episodes? "The one where no one proposes" and "The one with the male nanny," etc? It used to crack me up. Well, we had a long weekend, it was Valentine's Day, and Tony & Jayne came to visit. And Finley started walking like a boss. So this blog post would be titled "the one with way too many cute pictures to choose from, and definitely more than I have clever words to match." Or something like it.

OK, fine, I definitely won't quit my day job to name sitcoms anytime soon.

We had a doctor's appointment Friday morning (everything is fine, baby looks great, and we continue to be amazed by the lack of punctuality displayed by anyone at Walter Reed) and I picked up the Niemans while Seth went to school and Finley snoozed at daycare. She's been a tad clingy- for her- lately, and I wasn't sure how waking up to Grandma and Grandpa would go, but she went straight to Grandma and proceeded to not give Seth and I the time of day the rest of the weekend.

And that was before the presents came out. ("For me??")

The Niemans had brought the North Dakota weather with them, it seemed, so our big plans to play outside were derailed and we introduced them to our inclement weather plan: walking practice at the various Smithsonians. Saturday at the Udvar-Hazy Museum Finley took full advantage of all the space in the hangar, and did her best walking yet.

She was, needless to say, ridiculously proud of herself.

The museum had some amazing stuff, though. I was particularly impressed with the Discovery. Seth was partial to the Enola Gay. And Finley liked the rivets.

Sunday was even colder, and Finley requested a return trip to the American Indian Museum,

where she licked the alpaca fur

and sweet talked Dad into letting her sample the fry bread at the cafe.

Afterwards, Mom & Dad got an actual Valentine's Day date (Finley having already enjoyed her flowers from Dad and chocolates-minus-taxes from Mom). It was incredible. We went to the new-ish and amazing Passionfish in Bethesda, where Seth had his first caviar and I ate my body weight in chocolate.

We were beyond grateful to Grandma and Grandpa, who got this crazy-haired beast as a valentine date.

Monday morning it snowed

and Finley, having been devastated by Grandma and Grandpa's departure, spent the day helping make our favorite cookies and hoping their flight would be cancelled. It wasn't- but we're already looking forward to next time!

Oh- and there was sledding.

My favorite pictures from the weekend are of Finley's crinkle face (usually made when she's doing something she knows she's not supposed to, as here),

Finley's stubborn face (looking just like her Dad),

and proof that she came by it all honestly.

Lucky Finley

I sometimes look back at old pictures of the Walters kids growing up and wonder if my parents worried whether we knew just how lucky we were, hiking all the gorgeous trails that make buzzfeed lists these days and ogling European castles.

Then I remember that we were old enough to understand the phrase, "listen up, ingrates. Not every kid gets crepes for lunch and Alpine vistas for scenery."

Finley, on the other hand, will probably never get how cool it is that she learned to walk at the Smithsonian on chilly DC weekends. Turns out that they're perfect indoor playgrounds when it's not quite nice enough out for extended trips to the park.

Our new year's resolution to enjoy DC with Finley in tow continues to yield photo ops like these (loving the air & space museum), make us appreciate our proximity to the city that we spend most of our weekdays stuck in traffic and hating,

and keep us all from going stir crazy. Not that the littlest Nieman seems to mind the late season winter weather, since she finally talked us into putting away the Christmas tree and turning the whole area into a playroom. (Our oddly shaped living room turns out to be perfect for this purpose, since the sectional hides the mess and eliminates the compulsion to constantly tidy.) We're thinking it'll come in handy when there are two!

Otherwise, it was a pretty quiet week. We stayed home for the super bowl, and- in Seth Nieman tradition- vats of venison chili were made, consumed, and splashed all over the kitchen. I made my favorite pumpkin bread recipe and worked on a paper. Seth finally got his FATS system working in the lab at school and started collecting lab data. We both got stuck in traffic regularly.

We took the little beast on a bowling date Friday night, and she trounced us both (although she did have a little help) (and we are not letting her wear half shirts-- this was just a wardrobe malfunction in a daycare backup outfit, we promise).

I think her highlights (and some of my favorite photos) were of bathtime (always a hit)

and taking possession of my hand-me-down Uggs.

Seth also sent me this one, on the way to daycare in her new super classy hat and big girl car seat, and it might be one of my favorite pictures of her ever.

We finally heard from Mom & Dad, who are alive and well and temporarily in Arkansas, and it sounds like the house may actually be done one of these days soon. We're hoping to get them to come out for a visit in the meantime, so I should probably stop telling Mom about the broken heater at the Belvoir pool. (It's fixed! I swear!)

Anddddd a big happy birthday to Sara, who is celebrating with a camping/ hot springs adventure to Santa Teresa. We can't help but be a little jealous, and can't wait to see pictures (and hear all about Lehua's first real camping trip.)

Relaxing Weekend in Our 'Hood. And Kale Juice.

Hel-LO, Monday. For no reason, Finley's been up in the middle of the night the last couple nights and I was hoping for a solid night to get caught up on sleep, but this morning she was wide awake 40 minutes before my alarm went off. Working Mom guilt is powerful, and as badly as I had needed that 40 minutes, I was grateful for the morning snuggles I don't usually get on weekdays. Still, my mad rush out the door meant that I didn't notice that she had helpfully removed one of my running shoes from my gym bag.

I noticed as I was changing at the gym an hour later, and after a quick and desperate consideration of the feasibility of hitting the elliptical in Uggs, I decided to race the clock, pack back up, and head across post to swim instead.

It wasn't until I got there that I remembered that I had caught the teething little beast chewing on my swimsuit Friday and hung it up out of her reach in our entry way. At home. An hour-plus away. Luckily, I always keep a spare swimsuit in my car, a remnant of my pre-kid spontaneous days. And as such, it happens to be a triangle top string bikini.

Workouts on my incredibly tight schedule are gold, though, and I didn't have a choice if I wanted one today. For the first time since Dad retired, I was almost glad not to be running into Mom at the Belvoir pool. She would have died of embarrassment at the sight of her very pregnant daughter swimming laps in a triple-knotted string bikini. I looked, I imagine, like a whale stuck in a fishing net. The bounds of decency were definitely exceeded.

It was a little bit of a rude awakening after a much-needed relaxing weekend at home. Not usually my forte, I was so worn out that I actually. napped. On the couch. It only lasted for about ten minutes, but it felt luxurious. (Seth, to his credit, is remarkably supportive of naptime.)

We had had a little bit of a nutty week after our late return to the still snow-blanketed DMV from (slightly) warmer climes. I juggled doubled-up school hours to make up for the snow days, and Seth started his last semester of school Friday. He prepped for it by spending a daddy-daughter day at home with Finley, waiting on a surprise electrician appointment. In terrific news, he also fixed our treadmill! In less-terrific news, Finley is now better at using the TV remote than we are.

She also has a new big girl toothbrush, which she loves.

Which is probably a good thing, since I took her to the famous Sugar Shack donut shop Saturday morning when we were early for her first actual playdate. Which was a rousing success, even if having to plan and schedule it made Zayden's Mom and I feel very "DC."

We spent the rest of the weekend playing in the still-not-melted snow. Finley- who is getting spoiled, enjoying snow and highs in the upper 50s- adores riding around in her sled, looking like a tiny, bundled-up Cleopatra in her barge. Anytime Mom or Dad stops to take a break, she grabs the ropes and shakes them vigorously at us, her unmistakable signal to "giddyup!"

Don't she and Seth looks like twins in this picture?

We skipped our planned excursion to the Air & Space Museum Sunday in favor of some lower-key trips to the park and a brunch date, and agreed that hanging out in our own 'hood had been a good call for all concerned.

We also got a juicer, part of my campaign to get Seth and Finley to ingest more vegetables in any way possible. I wasn't sure how well it would go over, but as soon as he got it out of the box Seth commenced juicing every bit of produce in the house. (This was, incidentally, during my nap.) By dinnertime he and Finley were both happily sipping kale juice. Success, even if it cracks me up that Seth adds voluminous amounts of peanut butter to his "green" concoctions.

I didn't, because I love my husband and support the consumption of vegetables, document the state of the kitchen after this project. That definitely would've been the photo of the week.

But I did take this one one, which illustrates that sled rides with Dad are significantly more exciting (and whiplash-inducing) than with Mom.

And loved this series, of Finley's discovery of the spinning desk chair. Otherwise entitled, "lazy Sunday fun."