Back on our bikes!

I had to reach for the pedals with my tiptoes, making me sit artificially straight in the seat with my shoulders squared and my chest high. For a minute I wondered what on earth had happened to my bike, until I remembered that the last time I had ridden it I was 39 weeks pregnant with Finley, and I had had to have Seth to adjust the seat to accommodate my burgeoning belly.

It was crazy to think that it had been months. And then, that it had been only five months. Having a baby sends you into a weird kind of time warp. 

I looked over my shoulder at Seth pedaling slowly (carefully!) behind me, our precious cargo strapped into the trailer behind his bike. She was bouncing around alarmingly but seemed fine, busily chewing on the straps and taking in the late evening shadows with wide blue eyes. What a difference a couple months makes!

We were ecstatic that Finley was getting big enough for the bike trailer and the jogging stroller in time for weather nice enough to enjoy family outside time.

Less ecstatic that this seemed to coincide with a decline in the enjoyability of weekend family snuggle time. (Finley no longer contentedly drifts off to sleep after a morning bottle in the big bed on weekend mornings. Instead she thrashes around, flails her limbs, pulls our hair, and makes increasingly loud baby chirps as we try to go back to sleep, drifting off again only after it's been long enough for Mom to have given up and downed two cups of coffee, foreclosing the possibility of more sleep. Then she and Seth snuggle while I do dishes. Evil genius.)

In an effort to exhaust the little beast, and enjoy the finally-springlike weather, we spent as much of our weekend as possible outside. It was cherry blossom season in DC, but Finley and I braved the traffic Saturday for a walk along the river with Steph (and a play date with Tessie, which went surprisingly well.) We couldn't quite bring ourselves to deal with the tourist crush on the mall, so we retreated to Bethesda's own cherry blossoms, which are almost as nice.

And, of course, we have cherry blossoms right in our front yard! Spring in DC really is lovely.

 It's not quite warm enough for swimming weather, though. We've been dying to take Finley for her first swim, but the water at the Walter Reed pool is really, really cold. Finley kicked like a champ, but screamed like a banshee. We'll have to try again when it warms up a bit. We're convinced she's going to love it.

Seth indulged me Sunday morning before barricading himself in the library, and we all went to brunch at the Bethesda Farmer's Market. There's a food truck there that I've been stalking called the Culinary Nomad, and it was even better than advertised (deep fried cheese grits? Yes, please.) Besides, I think that a sunny Sunday brunch picnic is pretty much heaven on earth. 

Now it's Monday and I'm stuck in airport number two, headed to Madison, WI for a couple days for an outreach argument. I hate leaving Seth and Finley, but I have to admit that I'm excited about the sleep.

And, OK, the cheese curds.

But it would be impossible not to miss this crazy baby, who is as happy eating her feet...

...as she was determined to steal my breakfast potatoes. (Seriously. She snatched a handful while I wasn't watching. This isn't a great photo, but it's evidence!) 

Well-timed flowers, and lots of new stuff.

Seth "and Finley" sent me "just because" flowers Friday, reminding me just how lucky I am. It made my long, exhausting week.

Turned out DJ was in town for the weekend, so I spent the next several days reminding Seth how lucky he is- to have accidentally sent flowers at an extremely opportune time, and to have a very, very patient and understanding wife.

This is what my living room looked like at 4am Saturday. Sunday we won't even talk about, except to admit that it was with great satisfaction that I ordered Seth into the shower on only a couple hours of sleep so he could take his daughter to her first Easter service. If I could've guaranteed ice cold water, I would have. He smelled like a distillery but we made it, and he was a champ in church with the Very Squirmy Finley (who eventually landed us in the crybaby room of shame, banished behind soundproof glass.)

Finley had had quite a week, kicking it off with a pediatric radiology ultrasound for a worrisome bump Mom and Dad had noticed on her head. She's fine- official diagnosis: weird shaped head (which will look fine when it's finished fusing)- but the radiology department will probably never recover from her epic meltdown. Nor will we. This is the "before" shot.

She also got her four month shots (just in time for her five month birthday, we're the worst), which threw her off her game a little. But she recovered and was up to no good in no time.

We started her on (a tiny bit of) baby cereal. Jury's out on texture, and she tries to eat the bowl. So that one's a work in progress.

And she's finally allmoosssttt big enough for the jogging stroller Seth bought me, which is unbelievably awesome. The shocks on that contraption are better than the ones on my car. I can't wait to have jogging adventures with the Finster...

 

... which will be just in time for the warm weather that's recently started to fight its way through what was a gray, chilly, snowy winter. Although yardwork looms, we're stoked to be able to play outside with Finley. (Who loves everything about the outdoors except the sun. Which she hates. Little vampire.)

And yesterday Seth finally got his birthday present, the new TV I had promised him but which he ended up having to pick up and assemble by himself. I was going to take care of it, but we got rid of the old one Sunday and Seth informed me that Finley absolutely had to have a living room TV that night so she could watch "her hoops" (the women's Final Four.) So this happened.

They're such cute partners in crime (see photo of the week below), all I can do is laugh. And give in. So that pretty much spells disaster. And a giant, 4k- whatever that is- new TV it is.

Nieman Spring Break

Spring Break sure doesn't look like it used to!

Then again, that's probably because people my age are not supposed to get Spring Break. But grad student Seth did, and I had leave to burn, so we headed off to... Northern Minnesota?

(North Dakotans apparently have a different idea of tropical getaways than the rest of us. And also, there's the availability of Finley-sitting to consider. We are so, so lucky to have parents who are happy to hang out with her while we sneak off- but it does mean that, for the foreseeable future, our beach time may involve more Molsons than Coronas.)

At any rate, the first stop on our whirlwind U.S. trip- after dropping Finley in Fargo with Tony and Jayne, who were excited enough to see her that they were making the long drive twice!- was Wintergreen Dogsled Lodge, in Ely, MN. The trip was my Christmas present from Seth, who had gone with Iditarod-themed presents this year, contributing to a kickstarter fund to have this awesome book made for the Walters fam. I wasn't exactly sure what to think about actual mushing, but we were due for a new-parent getaway, and Seth had (as usual) pulled out all the stops: our trip was complete with a luxury cabin and private chef. And the incredible view above.
Our trip happened to coincide with a warm snap in the Northwoods, and there was hardly any snow (although we had a tough time complaining about the unexpected 50 degree temps!) It was a little rough on the trails, but meant we got to sled across frozen lakes instead, and explore the beautiful Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Mushing itself was a total trip. I liked it because it turned out that a lot of running beside the dogs was required, and we do dig learning new things. It does, however, involve an awful lot of dog wrangling. And poop. Lots and lots of dog poop. It seems that a lot of the lodge's guests are big dog lovers, as we kept getting offers to get up at dawn to feed and hang out with our dogs. Not us! We slept in and took afternoons off to sample local beer in town (and, on our last day, to get hot stone massages.) All in all, it was a hilarious, awesome, relaxing getaway. Seth and I missed Finley madly, but definitely enjoyed having the time to reconnect, have an adventure- and sleep.

Finley did not miss us at all as she had the time of her life with her grandparents, and apparently met- and charmed- most of the state of North Dakota. Jayne and Tony sent us tons of cute pictures, but this one cracks me up the most: Finley and Grandma Jayne at Buffalo Wild Wings in Fargo. Our little sports fanatic loved all the TVs.

Then it was on to New Mexico, and the big cousin (and Missy!) meetup. We had an absolute blast. Finley turned out to be an attack baby, but seeing her and Tyler together was priceless (when she wasn't trying to pull his hair or poke his eyes.) We can't get over the fact that they're only one day apart.

 And it was great to see the absolutely adorable Natalie again, now a total ham who can belt out the lyrics to all of the Frozen songs and do a pretty serious rendition of Uptown Funk.

Ben and I did some bonding, Walters-family style, and ruckmarched the Bataan Memorial Death March together. It was every bit as miserable as I had remembered, and I was thrilled to share the experience. The best part was, of course, our cheering section at the finish line. (I have always been jealous of those "Go Mom!" signs at races, and was ecstatic to have my own.)

Poor Seth had to head back early for classes, but I stayed most of the week to hang out with the fam, since it's such a huge treat to get that many of us together in the same place at the same time. We took the kids to the zoo (Finley was not impressed), got to see Ben's F-16 take off (unbelievably cool), went hiking in beautiful Cloudcroft, and watched the sun set over the sand dunes every night. Mom and Dad even took the kids so Missy and Lisa and I could have a girls' day out, complete with pedicures and pistachio wine. Not to mention the world's largest pistachio.

All in all, an epic family vacation, and we can't wait to do it again, with the Bustamantes this summer!

I did a terrible job with photos from the trip, but there are a bunch of random ones here.
And Lisa took amazing ones.

I eventually made it home, and survived solo air travel with Finley (which I do not recommend). Having just learned how to both growl and wiggle free, and requiring an awful lot of luggage, she made the trip home quite an adventure in itself. Seth picked us up at the airport at 1:30 in the morning, and I've never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

About a hundred loads of laundry and a massive grocery shop later, we're settled back in at home and already missing our vacation. And tackling Monday.

Too many favorites from our adventures to choose just one. A couple that crack me up are:

 

Finley being really bad at sitting in the bumbo chair, 

Finley and Mom at the Alamogordo zoo, and 

 

these hilarious shots.

 

Oh, and this one, which should just be titled "Effects of a Walters Family Vacation."

And then today, Seth sent me this one, and the note that "Daddy forgot my sunglasses, so I took his."

That'll get you through a post-vacation Monday...!

Snow Days and Study Breaks

We were beyond grateful. After our crazy trip back from Dallas, resulting in a hasty return to work and a house that looked as if had been hit by a tornado, the weather gods took pity on us and gave us a much-needed snow day. 

 We used it for what I call "life maintenance." Seth got some studying done, I cooked and cleaned and did load after load of laundry, and Finley did baby yoga. 

 Which wore her out, at least temporarily. (I couldn't resist sharing this photo because I love when she smiles in her sleep.) 

Of course, Friday was a long day and an even longer commute, so by the time Saturday rolled around we were ready for more downtime.

Seth had midterms coming up and needed to get schoolwork done, so Finley and I hung out, caught up on our DVR stockpile, and had a mimosa or two. (Fine, I had mimosas. Although Finley, who has started to show a great deal of interest in food and drink- much to our excitement- was eying them.) We also hung out at Michelle and Josh's, where Finley charmed everyone and met her first dog. She did not love it.

Seth took study breaks to play with his partner in crime, and we had family singalong time with the "Wee Sing" books Mom and Dad sent us (a nostalgic throwback to my childhood.)

And here I should take a few lines to say what I don't often enough: that I am both proud of and grateful for a husband who is such a loving, committed, terrific Dad. Just how terrific is evident every time he walks in the room (Finley stops whatever she's doing and fixates on him until he picks her up) or when I try my hand at helicopter or the very involved baby workouts Seth has invented (the look she gives me says "Mom, please. Dad does it way better.") With so much on our plates, we're definitely in the tag-team parenting phase ("You hold her while I make dinner;" "You give her a bath while I unload groceries;" etc.), but Seth always makes time to play with Finley or help out with whatever needs done, and rarely even starts on his schoolwork until after she's in bed. With the hours he keeps and the demands on his time (he does most of the daycare dropoffs and pickups too), I'm totally in awe of the fact that he brought home straight As last semester, and is managing to train for the Paralympics somewhere in there too. I'm beyond impressed- and lucky to be married to such a consummate team player and kickass Dad. My friends talk about the ideal being a partnership in which there is no "senior parent," and that's not everybody's reality. It is in our house (although, much to my chagrin, there is a "fun parent." Any guesses who?)

That said, the photos of the week are Dad-themed.

Finley holding her ball while watching ESPN,

 and sporting her new pink shades (courtesy of Seth.)

"...a three hour tour?!"

For most of my life, I've loved nothing better than a good road trip, something I must in fairness attribute to Mom & Dad and all those minivan hours we logged driving across the country growing up (at least some of them in search of the elusive Buffalo Bill's grave.) I still generally feel the same way, but this- squinting into what looked and felt like a monsoon somewhere in eastern Tennessee well after midnight, frantic to get home to my baby- was not the stuff of which wanderlust is made.

It had been a really nice getaway until we hit the airport Sunday morning. I had obtained antibiotics and semi-recovered from strep in just the nick of time, we had just enough time to throw some stuff in bags and hope for the best packing-wise, and Mom and Dad saved the day and took Finley overnight so we could make a quick trip to Dallas for Jake and Liz's wedding without lugging ten pounds of diapers and bottles. (Mom shouted "have fun! get wasted!" out the door as we left at 4am.) All three of us had been sick and tired for weeks, and the 24 hours off was just what the doctor ordered. The wedding was beautiful (Dallas-tacular, resplendent with sequins and big hair and cowboy boots), and we got to drink beer, have adult conversations where we actually looked at each other, and sleep in at the adorable Hotel Belmont. We also had a few hours to play tourist in unexpectedly-snowy Dallas, a town we both really like, and we felt morally obligated to have booze for breakfast, play beer pong at The Nodding Donkey (check out who was-briefly- winning, Missy), and visit the George Dubya library and museum.

We also  made a BBQ pilgrimage to Lockhart's, where we ordered meat by the pound and drank Shiner in mason jars. Gotta love Texas. (We certainly do.)

Mom and Dad were the best, and sent us pictures of Finley's fabulous day, which apparently included watching John Wayne movies on the couch with Dad (as well as a serious diaper blowout, of which she was apparently pretty proud.)

Basically, it was shaping up to be the perfect guilt-free, kid-free overnight date, and we really felt like we were nailing it... until we got to the airport for our nonstop flight home and saw The Line.

Flights to the east coast had all been cancelled for weather, and the guy at the ticket counter patiently helped us look at every possible option- including flights out of any other airport in Texas and to anywhere from Boston to Nashville to Orlando- before informing us that the earliest he could confirm us on a flight was Tuesday night, arriving Wednesday morning. Into Baltimore.

Anxious to get home to Finley- and more than a little concerned about how much milk we had left in the freezer for her- I was in tears and on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

And that's how we found ourselves in a rented Hyundai Sonata, taking turns driving through the night on what would turn out to be a nailbiting 22.5 hour drive through pouring rain and occasional sleet, stopping only for heavily caffeinated products, a bit of Memphis BBQ, and a picture with the Arkansas sign, for Dad.

We finally, eventually made it back, grateful for teamwork, all-wheel drive, breastpumps with car chargers, XM radio, and Sheetz. And of course, Mom & Dad, who were cheerfully considering breaking into our house for more milk, and- according to Dad- supplementing with brownies.

In my head, Finley was starving and miserable, inconsolably missing her parents.
In reality, she wasn't even home when we arrived, boasting a busy Monday calendar that included birdwatching.

We, at least, were thrilled to have survived our Gilligan's Island-esque "overnight trip" and subsequent race across half the United States, with milk and BBQ on ice.

Finley put on quite a show last night, so I took a few "photos of the week." There's no place like home. Which is good, because we may never leave again.