The Good Stuff

The news and our social media feeds continued to be tumultuous and anger-inducing this week, and we're definitely holding our breaths that everything and everybody simmers down soon. In the meantime, we (figuratively) took a deep breath, turned off the TV, and tried to focus on the good stuff.

Like the fact that this big guy is a big 9 months old! And crawling everywhere, and making us incredibly nervous with his clumsy but determined attempts to walk and climb things.

We enjoyed an improptu Friday night in the emergency room after daycare freaked out and sent Finley home with a barely-noticeable rash.(But seriously, F+F can have a good time anywhere.)

We celebrated the Lunar New Year with Nordic runes from Sara (a huge hit) 

and Chinese dumplings. We felt very multicultural.

Although we did not appear that way at the charity dance marathon Saturday. Poor Finley got Mom's white girl moves. 

And Ford discovered that he's very popular with cadets. I'm pretty sure he has his own snapchat channel now.

Seth went to the football awards banquet Saturday night

and stayed out too late and drank too much scotch. Naturally, Finley and Ford were less than sympathetic the next morning (and I did not feel sorry for him.)

I dragged all three of them to the new bird exhibit at the nature museum, and a good time was had by all. Not that you would know it from poor Ford's initial reaction to the eagle costume.

Photos of the week are this one, of Finley waiting for Dad to wake up Sunday morning on the potty while playing her guitar in a princess dress.

And this adorable moment we caught at the museum. For all we know, she was gauging whether or not she thought she could heft him over the glass and into the water, but it sure looked like a sweet hug. At the start of yet another week filled with national discord, we'll take it.

People are sometimes terrible, butterflies are terrifying, and Finley dances the Macarena.

This semester, Tuesdays and Thursdays are particularly hectic, since I have to leave by 7 to make it in for an early class so Seth takes the kids to daycare. Usually he gets up and works out and then I wake them up and do the "I know you need to potty" routine with Finley, scrub the carpet if it isn't my day to win that one, get them dressed, make breakfast, feed them, and then run out the door as soon as Seth comes in. I have no idea how he showers, and I consider it a minor miracle that I haven't yet made it halfway to the city before realizing that I'm not wearing pants.

This morning it was getting toward "I have to leave or I'll never make it across the GW Bridge before class starts" time, and Seth was nowhere to be found. When Finley disappeared and I could hear her talking to someone, I assumed she had found him in the bathroom or something, and yelled for him to hurry up as I wrestled Ford to get his socks on for the fourth time. No answer. I yelled again. Then Finley came barreling around the corner with the doll she had actually been talking to, and there was still no sign of Seth. Where the hell was he? I was definitely going to be late.

I ran outside to at least start my car, and there he was, scraping thick ice off my windshield and having just finished shoveling my car out after a vicious ice storm last night. I had been so busy I had forgotten all about it. Seth carefully backed my car out of the driveway while I held both kids and tested the brakes on the icy road before sending me on my way.

The man has never once gone and gotten a new toilet paper roll when he finishes one, but he takes snow and ice very seriously and never fails to make sure the sidewalk is salted, the driveway is shoveled, and the cars are safe and ready to go. It's a thoughtful, unprompted gesture that makes me feel lucky and loved every time.

Great timing, too. It has been a trying couple days since the inauguration, with tensions high on social media, at school, and in real life. People, it seems, can't agree on anything, and they can't manage to disagree politely or even civilly. It's disappointing to see and hear people you know just being hateful.

Partly because of the appalling downtrend in permissible political discourse, on Saturday, Finley and I joined the Women's March. I had wanted to take her to the one in NYC, but Seth thought it might get out of hand so, begrudgingly, we headed for the much smaller one in Poughkeepsie instead. And it was perfect. Although the larger marches seemed to get a little off-message with lots of competing interest groups involved, the 5000 or so people who marched across the Hudson and back were kind, inclusive, interesting, and funny. The signs were hilarious. The marchers included a a kindergarten class, Teachers for Tolerance, Nuns for Justice, and a large group of self-proclaimed old hippies. The Black Lives Matter activist let Finley do the "no way!" part of his chant into his megaphone for as long as she wanted (it was adorable and, fortunately, doesn't seem to have become part of her vernacular), and she led the crowd in a rousing rendition of "This Land is Your Land." Her sign, which was an exact reflection of why we attended the event, was perfect and she carried it proudly for almost the whole way.

Although her favorite part was definitely her first train ride.

The whole thing was really meaningful, and well-intentioned, and- at least for us- nonpartisan (does anyone really want to belong to a party that doesn't subscribe to treating women with equality and respect?) So naturally every venture online for the next several days consisted of uplifting photos of friends and colleagues who marched on one hand and, on the other, vitriol about how the global, peaceful marches by millions of people were just gatherings of "(insert derogatory word about women here) whining about wanting their birth control and abortions paid for" and other such hateful nonsense.

It's really kind of depressing, how awful people have become.

For a pick-me-up, we headed into the city with the kids Sunday so we could check out the American Museum of Natural History and take Finley to see the butterfly exhibit. (Oh boy, do we miss the- free!- Smithsonians. The butterfly exhibit was so expensive that Seth wandered around muttering inappropriate things about what, exactly, the butterflies must do for that amount.)

Anyway, it was worth every penny to see Finley's delight at the butterflies, which she was still talking about this morning. Although after a half hour of desperately trying to get one to land on her (Seth and Ford long having fled the steamy conservatory),

these are the terrible faces she made when we finally got one.

The museum was too vast to see in one trip, but we held out until it was waypastnaptime

and headed home in time for the usual Sunday night race to be ready for Monday.

And for all the ups and downs of a crazy week in America; these little faces, and bedtime concerts, and a husband who shovels your car out of an icedrift; are terrific reminders of love and light and gratitude.

And I CANNOT BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT THIS. Seth took Finley to her first daddy-daughter dance, which I had always thought of as kind of silly but which turns out to be a major thing here at West Point. He even insisted I get her a new dress for the occasion, and they cannot have been cuter.

Seth took this video of her dancing the "Macarena," which I have watched probably 600 times it's so adorable. Definitely the highlight of the week.

Why ski when you can have beer & baseball?

Historical considerations aside, the January and February long weekends are for getaway ski trips. They just are, and I have always been profoundly grateful to our founding fathers and civil rights leaders for providing the much-needed breaks in gray winter monotony and cabin fever. Except that this week New York was having an unexpected heat wave and there was no snow in the entire state and Seth gave me that look when I started making noises about Killington. 

And fine. Our kids really were too small to ski or spend all day out in the cold anyway.

So I extorted promises of a mini roadtrip to the New York location of my choosing instead, and we decamped to Jones Farm for an early morning brunch Saturday to mull it over. Which was, as usual, excellent. Ford, who has been putting on a major show of not liking food and being unable to chew, discovered cider donuts and wolfed down a stolen (from Finley) chocolate chip pancake to boot, barely able to contain his glee. We're onto you, buddy.

Of course, afterwards he looked a little green around the gills (as well as uncomfortably stuffed), and had to sleep off the sugar high.

We finally took down Christmas lights and installed car seats and generally worked on the to-do list for the rest of our chilly day at home, and had a crazy kid circus of a dinner with friends at Seth's boss's house to cap off a nice Saturday.

But Sunday we were off on my adventure, and we headed to Cooperstown for breweries and baseball. (It sure sounded like something for everyone to me!) We had a blast sampling the beer at Ommegang, although it was not an uneventful stop.

If you haven't done the "pooped in the potty" dance in the parking lot of a brewery, you definitely haven't road tripped with the Niemans.

Ford, continuing his eating tour of New York, also discovered mac and cheese.

The next stop was a cider mill, where Finley "made it rain" feeding the geese

 and discovered free samples. Much to her delight.

The highlight of the kids' trip was the jacuzzi suite at the Holiday Inn. (Seriously the nicest Holiday Inn ever.) I swear I am never buying water park tickets again. They spent hours splashing happily in the jacuzzi while we enjoyed Ommegangs and football and takeout pizza in our PJs. Who knew this was the key to vacationing with kids?

After an epic swim and a lot of jumping on the bed (I love that they love hotel rooms), all four of us got eight hours of sleep. (Fine. Seth and Ford got ten, but Finley and I had urgent continental breakfast-ing to get to.) Still- I can't even remember the last time we all got that much sleep, and it was incredible.

And we still hadn't made it to the baseball hall of fame! When we did, we were a tad bit disappointed that the Martin Luther King, Jr. exhibit wasn't more extensive, but thrilled at how kid-friendly the museum was. They had an awesome learning center where we got to try on old baseball uniforms: this one of Ford in a catcher's mask kills me,

as did Finley in an All-American Girls Professional Baseball League uniform. And the sight of her Dad teaching her how to swing a bat. (To be honest, there was some flinching involved with the latter too, but no one was harmed in the taking of this photo.)

Ford was charming and handsome as usual, and we stayed until well past naptime, when we were forced to beat a hasty retreat.

We made it home in time for fish sticks and laundry and a disappointingly jacuzzi-free bathtub, and pronounced our snow-free long weekend a success.

Although we're calling it the official end of the holidays (especially as I'm back in school fulltime as of today) and swearing off the excessive eating, drinking, and merrymaking we've been enjoying the hell out of. Gym time and smoothies for everyone! So bear with us if we're a little cranky as we adjust to the new semester's schedule and our renewed resolution-ing.

Road trips always produce a glut of hilarious and awesome photos, but I thought these were especially funny. Finley really getting into her hot dog lunch at baseball-themed Doubleday Cafe,

 

Ford giving his favorite toy (Finley's obnoxious Mickey microphone, thanks Aunt Missy) the staredown in the car,

 

and this hilarious shot of Finley-the-movie-star (in my sunglasses) and her biggest fan, in the Baseball Hall of Fame. What a pair.

Recovering.

I'm dragging today, thanks to an incredibly exciting National Championship game last night. I can't remember the last time I watched a non-Army or USC game to the final seconds, but this one was a real nailbiter. At least I thought so. My gamewatching buddies tapped out early (not that I can blame them. Ford has been up at all hours teething, and last night it got the better of the boys.)

Luckily, it's a writing week for me so I don't have to drive in to school and am sleepily folding laundry instead of trying to keep my eyes open during class today. (We'll see how much writing I get done, but it's 14 degrees and icy out, so making homemade bread in my PJs is way more appealing than legal research anyway.)

We've kind of hunkered down and enjoyed downtime at home over the recent cold snap, and are finally starting to feel caught up after our insane holiday travel. (Even though Seth has vowed never to fly with children again.) The box of presents we had to mail home arrived, and the kids had Christmas #2. (Note to self: next year just repackage toys they already own. The joy factor is not diminished.)

We've done pretty well so far tackling New Year's resolutions. (That is, we've stuck to decent workouts, although I have yet to buy a ranch in Montana or a four wheel drive vehicle, Seth's resolutions for me.) This is Finley doing "squats" with me. She loves working out.

Jury's still out on the new (-ly converted) toddler bed (our resolution for Finley, who learned on vacation how nice it was to climb in with Mom and Dad: sleep all night in your own bed!) The Sheriff Callie bedding I finally caved and bought seems to be a hit.

Ford and I even squeezed in a weekend nap. (Not a resolution; probably should have been.)

When we got cabin fever after all the indoor time, we took the kids to an indoor playground Seth found in Central Valley. It was a hilarious good time, although not free of "funniest home videos"- worthy spills.

And Seth locked in "dad of the year" for his willingness to squeeze himself up many stories of tiny playground staircases.

We also had a hilarious-as-always evening at the Ryans', during which Finley discovered both dress up clothes and nerf guns, and was perfectly happy to mix the two. It cracked us up.

As if those aren't priceless enough to qualify for photos of the week, my two other favorites are of my little mirror buddy getting ready for school with her new "makeup kit,"

 and Handsome Ford (what Finley calls him now) working out. Even teething, he's all smiles.

We've been loving our post-holiday recovery time (and I've loved being a "trophy wife"!) but we're slowly getting back to the grind. Best of luck to everybody doing the same!