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!