A Much-Needed Reset Weekend

We were in desperate need of a reset weekend. We'd been going full speed for weeks, staying up late and getting up early, tired enough to let kids climb in bed with us rather than spend the requisite hours putting them back to sleep in their own rooms, drinking too much wine and eating out more than we cared to, doing stacks of dishes by hand because we were out of dishwashing liquid and nobody had time to run to the commissary, phoning in workouts or skipping them altogether, putting off paper writing for school and AOC... I had a paper proposal on its second extension and Seth was a week past due date on a textbook chapter he was supposed to be writing. And the kids were off kilter from being dumped unceremoniously back in daycare after a luxurious long weekend with grandparents and presents and cupcakes and a trip to the circus. (Who wouldn't be?)

One of my many weaknesses, though, is that I tend to feel like weekends are wasted if we don't go somewhere. Luckily, one of Seth's best counterbalances is that he is less inclined, and occasionally even flatly refuses.

We compromised. Saturday was the last of our unseasonably warm weather, so I took the kids to Bear Mountain while Seth got in a solid workout. Despite the "two against one" odds, and with the help of the "finally not buried under a pile of snow" double BOB,

I managed to keep them from falling into the coyote enclosure.

Although I was not so successful at preventing the inevitably-ending-in-tears stick duel. (It was fun while it lasted.)

We got home jussstttt before the storm hit, and- with all that Vitamin D under our belts- didn't mind holing up inside to do "yogups" and bake cookies.

By Sunday morning, however, we were vacuuming in our underwear for fun, and it was time to bust out and beat cabin fever.

We adore children's museums and had been saving the one in Poughkeepsie for, literally, a rainy day. Or a cold one. It turned out to be just what the doctor ordered. Seth liked the building exhibits as much as the kids.

Finley was ob-sessed with the fire truck.

Big Ford showed us what a proficient stair-crawler he's become. (He does not care for the slide down once he gets to the top, though.)

And Fitnley gave us a terrifying preview of the future when she climbed behind the wheel of this little racecar and demanded, "I drive Ford!"

At least she was wearing a safety vest?

We capped off a lovely Sunday afternoon with an ambitious and only slightly chaotic trip to the German restaurant Missy and I had discovered in Po-town, where Ford and Seth both enjoyed bottles. 

That is, until Ford discovered spaetzle and delightedly ate an entire plate of it while Finley took off her shoes and socks and danced around the bar while shoveling french fries dipped in mayonnaise. I was laughing too hard to get a picture of that, sadly.

We got some writing done Sunday night and squeezed in a trip to the grocery store somewhere in there too. Overall, our reset weekend was a rousing success even if the house didn't quite get clean, we got dishwashing liquid but are now out of laundry detergent, and we're still only 50-50 on kid sleep battles. Can't win 'em all, and we made it through Monday, so we're on a roll.

In favorite-pictures news, Ford has become a much better eater this week, to my relief. Even if it means he steals my sandwiches.

And I loved this picture, of Finley giving a much bigger kid the "it's MY turn" look at the Bear Mountain playground, after a minor slide tussle. We're not playground interventionists so Ford and I watched this whole thing unfold from the stairs, but I was proud to see her stand her ground when this kid tried to run her over. And I loved The Look.

Finally, the tigers continue to be a hit. Finley has taught Ford how to "fight our tigers, Ford!" and this is them growling at each other while I made waffles Saturday morning.

Seth's birthday week, a real date night, and the circus.

My husband looks ridiculously good in a suit. With his broad shoulders and angular jaw and towering physical presence, it doesn't matter how well-tailored the suit. One is acutely aware of his large hands, muscular build, and the fact that he wonders aloud over dinner whether the wearer of a suit jacket should take it off first or deliver a knockout punch still wearing it, "you know. If you had to."

Obviously, I would be more than a little pissed if I had to bail Seth out of jail instead of ordering dessert, but I can't help but love how ever-so-slightly uncomfortable but undeniably handsome he looks when he dons a bowtie and tries valiantly to keep the evidence of very-rare steak consumption away from a white collar.

These days, we rarely get to enjoy each other dressed up, preferring instead to take turns with dress events we can't get out of, and otherwise spending evenings at home playing an elaborate version of "whoever smelled it first changes the diaper."

But Grandma and Grandpa were in town for the long weekend, and we've been talking forever about doing a "dinner and a show" evening in the city. It was still hard to tear ourselves away, but Monday we scooped up last-minute Wicked tickets, dusted off our non-athletic shoes, and scored a hard-to-get reservation at the venerable Keen's Steakhouse, where Seth's filet was seriously impressive

and- big nerds that we are- we loved the crazy historic pipe collection. (Liza Minnelli's gave me a particular chuckle, amid the hypermasculine collection.)

The show was excellent. I was worried Seth wouldn't like it as much as I (an all-things-Oz superfan), but he loves a good performance. And was not sad to see this sign in Gershwin Theater:

We had a great time, although it was an insanely late night and I'm back in the city now and on my fourth cup of coffee. Worth it to get to enjoy Broadway, uninterrupted conversation, and red wine without worrying about when (not if) it's going to wind up on the carpet or the baby, or both. The kids were apparently saints for Grandma and Grandpa (to our delight) and even ate their broccoli (to our amazement).

 And we had remembered the "guilt tax," and undid last night's healthy dinner by caving on the "chocolate cake for breakfast" demand this morning.

Finley and Ford are enjoying the heck out of Seth's birthday week. They got to go to his favorite steak place Friday, ruining dinner for scores of fellow diners and ensuring that no one would ever want a gourmet pickle out of the community jar again. (At least not anyone who knew better.)

They l-o-v-e-d Seth's party Saturday night, which turned into a real kid rager with a dozen kids, a trampoline, a makeshift marching band, countless cupcakes, a game of dress-up in my closet, multiple potty-training fails, an "everybody in" bath, and an apparent game of "hide the corndogs." Which we are still finding. Sometimes in our bed.

If Jayne hadn't been there to split cleanup duties, I definitely would have just burned the house down rather than attempt to clean it. Possibly while Seth and his friends still sat, blissfully unaware, on the back porch drinking whiskey.

But thankfully, the highlight of the weekend is that Jayne and Tony are here to celebrate with us. And prevent arson. We've been super lucky weather-wise and have had an unexpected warm snap, so we've gotten to go for beautiful walks (here, sunset at Trophy Point).

and play outside,

and have lovely, funny evenings consisting of stacks and stacks of books and hilarious "cooking with Finley & Grandma" episodes.

Although nothing could top the long-anticipated trip to the circus. Probably ever, to our chagrin. It was magical for everybody (and, thankfully, they did have elephants, PETA lawsuits notwithstanding). Finley got to ride the ponies, Ford loved the lights and the acrobats, and the kids left with new white tiger stuffed animals from Grandpa, their new favorite things.

We clearly still have some work to do in the sharing arena, however. Finley's little eyes got big when she saw them, and she said "I got two!"

We're still enjoying grandparent time for another day so I haven't gone through all my pictures, but this set cracked me up. The first is of Finley, in horrific sequined princess dress Mikayla brought for her to wear to Seth's party, licking the frosting off a cupcake; the second, of Angel Ford eating salad at Schlesinger's.

This one of Finley, bored waiting on Mom catching up with the neighbors in the commissary parking lot, is also priceless.

But my favorite one, maybe ever, is of Grandpa Tony wearing his little guy in the Tula at Trophy Point. Grandpa and his little guy are heart-melting.

------------Break---------

I jotted this note Tuesday but time got away from me, and am just now getting the format sorted out. When I should be finishing a due-tomorrow paper. Since then, we've had breakfast at Jones Farm, where Grandma and Grandpa got to witness the hilarious "back, chickens!" routine,

and bid a sad farewell. It was a terrific visit, and we're already counting down until next time. One of my favorite things Jayne does is commit to putting a "next visit" date on the calendar before the adieus. so we all have something to look forward to and the goodbye isn't so sad. (They're getting progressively harder as Finley gets better at conceptualizing time and space, as well as at calculating the heartwrenching impact of "I want my Grandma!" at bedtime.) I'm making reservations today: we have a date with the Easter bunny!

It can be done! and Valentine's Day

Finley had chocolate covered strawberries for breakfast this morning.

Valentine's Day and its chocolate aftermath are definitely her new favorite thing. As per usual, Seth spoiled us, and we'll be dining on Godiva and smelling roses for weeks. Princess Finley is fine with that.

Ford doesn't seem to be a chocolate guy (must get that from his Dad) but he'll take all the ambivalent holiday-inspired hugs from his favorite person he can get.

Valentine's Day capped off an exciting long weekend for Finley and Ford. Seth had yet another AOC exercise and I had no interest in getting blizzard-ed in with the kids on my own, so I frontloaded papers last week and we dug out of the snowdrifts and headed to North Carolina to see friends. A Very Committed Traveler, I've been interested to see whether solo air travel with twounderthree is possible, and this seemed like a nice, short trip for a trial run.

Of course, when you count drives to and from airports and parking shuttles and rental cars and security lines, a 75 minute flight turns out to be neither nice nor short. But the kids were troopers (especially Angel Ford, who slept on the plane both ways)

the new stroller we had purchased for the occasion was a hit

and the hangout time was worth every second.

Going to NC always feels like going home, and Finley l-o-v-e-s the Hudspeth house, where she gets to hang out with big girls and wear princess dresses and ride motorized cars and gorge herself on corndogs and fried food.

And all of us were ecstatic about the spring-like weather. 

The warm weather escape was much needed on the heels of a cold and snowy week on Stony Lonesome. (Wednesday's snow day led to a serious case of cabin fever, forcing me to eventually flee to Finley's friend Cora's house. Where she did- no kidding- "Frozen" karaoke.)

Some other favorites of the week are of the joyous reunion with Dad.

Finley's first ride on a big girl bike (with a little help from "her" Maggie),

and handsome Ford, who has continued to pretend he can't chew, devouring a potato wedge he scavenged. 

 Oh, and these two. Me really nailing it, with both kids napping on the plane on the way home,

and this one Jenn snapped at the park. It was so nice to be able to play outside without 85 layers on, and made us hopeful that spring will eventually come to our mountaintop!

Super Bowl and a spinach dip bandit.

Between the two of us, Seth and I have been to some wild Super Bowl parties.

This year's was no less so, but involved significantly fewer adult beverages and a whole lot more brownies, diapers, and crayons on other people's walls.

The highlight for Finley was feeding the Nichols' dog dinner, one kernel of food at a time.

For Ford it was getting to ride along on my second trip to the grocery store for football game food ingredients, along with everybody else on post. (Finley's usually my commissary buddy.) Ol' blue eyes was a real hit with the other shoppers.

The kids made it through the first quarter, and Seth and I finished the game at the neighbors' after we wrestled a hopped-up-on-brownies Finley into bed. (The baby monitor reaches next door, in what it is one of the only perks of zero privacy post housing.)

Super Bowl Sunday paled in comparison, of course, to the highlight of Finley and Ford's weekends: hanging out with the Ryans.

We went to a charity event (Bartenders Against Brain Tumors) at one of our favorite restaurants Saturday (where Ford tried to get into Dad's Guiness and Finley and Mikayla dragged us all outside to freeze)

and then retired to Casa Ryan for chicken wings

movie time

princess dress-up

and whatever is going on here.

Although my favorite photos of the week are from Sunday morning. Finley scrambled eggs

while Ford got into the spinach dip.

Oh yeah, and the death trap duck reappeared.

And now it's hard to believe, but football (and recruiting) season is over. I'd wonder what we were going to do with all that free time, except that Seth's AOC has a weeklong exercise coming up. It's always something (but there is never a dull moment!)