Saturday was a day worthy of praise. Fried Chicken, pictures on the Darden lawn, good weather, a girl’s shopping trip, and Bill’s famous hamburgers and hotdogs. God is good and He has certainly blessed the Boucek’s, Ermlich’s, and Harvey’s with three sweet and beautiful baby girls!
Grace (3 months), Mary Reese (8 months), and Hendley (15 months)
Tonight, we hit the town for Friday’s After Five with Julie and Bill and Dawn and Spike (Bill’s sister and her husband). In the old days, these outings would be marked by a late night on the downtown mall followed by a cab ride home. These days, we hit the town with strollers, diaper bags, and snacks. And were home by 8.
Nonetheless, we had a great time comparing mommy/daddy stories and catching up on a little grown up talk. The three girls, ranging from 3 months to 15 months, were perfect!
This picture says it all: MR up to no good, Hendley eating, and sweet Grace taking it all in.
Day #4 of hunger strike. No not me, MR. When I picked her up from the gym this morning, I realized why. Little Miss Mary Reese was having a ball, sitting in a high chair and enjoying a four course meal of graham crackers, puffs, bananas, and bread.
By the looks of it, she’s not at all concerned about bathing suit season. I don’t much blame her. I’ve always been one for sweets and would much rather pass up a jar of Vegetable Medley for a good ole Gerber puff.
Here are a few pictures from yesterday. Love Light (Hendley) stopped by for a quick cousin playdate. I swear they had more fun than it looks…
Maybe it’s because I’ve been spending a great deal of time cooking and eating. Or because I secretly still wear many of my maternity tops and dresses. Or maybe even the fact that yesterday’s post was entitled “nostalgic”. Whatever the reason, I am not pregnant. Confirmed.
And now that it’s confirmed, I’m putting up any and every thing that is maternity-related (even my old maternity panties, which will be hard to part with). I’m also saying goodbye to Partridge Family fabrics (as my mom calls them), empire waist lines, and baggy clothing. Maybe then the paparazzi will confirm that I am just carrying a little extra weight around my mid section and am not “with child”.
Speaking of carrying a little extra weight, after enduring two and a half hours of torturous bathing suit shopping, I have decided that I would almost rather be the kid who purposely falls in the pool (fully clothed), then have to wear a skimpy piece of fabric that barley covers my rear. Really though. I knew after having a baby that my bikini wearing days were done. And I accepted that. But come on–today’s tankinis are almost as skimpy as string bikinis.
Here’s my beef. First off, if you’re buying a tankini, it’s probably because you don’t want to show your stomach. Most people, like myself, who want to hide their stomach, probably want to hide their thighs as well. So why the skimpy bottoms?
Oh and another thing. The busy fabrics that most of these suits are made of only draw attention to problematic areas. One tankini I tried on had two large, brightly colored circles strategically placed along the top portion of the bathing suit. As if I need to draw any more attention to my barely there, post breastfeeding ta ta’s.
Secondly, I hate, I mean HATE the fact that tankinis are sold as separates. Ok, it’s good if your top and bottom aren’t the same size, but who really has the time or patience to dig through dozens of picked over wracks, while untangling those pesky plastic hangers?
It’s enough to make you go insane. And tonight that’s exactly what I did. I’m sure the security services team was watching me like a hawk. Crouching from wrack to wrack and throwing bathing suits from left to right, I was not a pretty sight. Finally, I settled on a onepiece. Yes that’s right, a onepiece. My sister’s response, “what are you 80 years old?”
With my bathing suit in hand and only 20 minutes before the mall closed, I quickly searched for a cover up. I passed by all of the Hawaiian print moo-moos and made a bee line to a red and white tunic. I grabbed a small and slide it on over my shirt. I loved it. It fit like a glove. Nothing about my onepiece bathing suit spelled sexy, but in this tunic I was one hot moma.
Sold; that is until I started to take it off and realized that I was stuck and someone was going to have to rescue me from the man-eating tunic. Grunting, twisting, and praying, I finally managed to get it off, but not before hearing a series of seams begin to unravel. Abandoning the ripped tunic on the floor, I made a quick exit and grabbed a larger size.
When I got up the cash register, the woman told me my total was $178. What?!!!! I could feel my checks get hot and red. My eyes were as big as saucers. Somehow I managed to find the words to ask how much the bathing suit was. It was $80. That meant that the hot mama tunic was around $90. Which meant that the hot mama tunic was no more. And that less than three feet away, lay a seam stripped $90 tunic that I ruined.
With prices like those, who can afford a vacation? So, just so you know, I will be hitting the beach day after day in my brand new onepiece. I cannot afford financially or mentally to buy two. Nor can I afford the hot mama tunic. But that’s ok, I’m sure I can transform my old tye dyed “Jamaica me crazy” tank into the perfect coverup.
I can’t end a post without a picture and I’m sure that you’re not interested in seeing my new bathing suit, so here are two pics from yesterday’s cousin playdate. These two were into everything. I barely had time to get my camera out, much less take pictures.
MR, you make me smile each and every day! Your daddy and I love you so much. We love your silly faces, big smiles, and your spirited personality. There’s no denying that you are going to be a handful, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.
At eight and a half months, you crab crawl all around the house. You can say mama, dada, hey, and bye. We’re working on teaching you dog and more. You love to go outside and take wagon rides. You also like to watch tv. Yesterday, you watched almost an entire episode of the View. You clapped very time the audience did. And you always looked back to make sure I was watching you.
Your favorite foods are green beans, squash, corn, fruit, and yogurt. You have three 8 oz bottles of formula a day and get a big-girl sippy of apple juice for snack time. Although you enjoy eating, you despise your high chair. You cry every time I put you in it.
MR, you have an amazing head of hair. It is thick and straight and appears to be getting darker. I keep a bow in it almost everyday. I dread the day that you refuse to wear a bow in your hair. I’m sure you’ll look up to your Aunt Ju-Ju as you get older, so let me be the first to tell you that she wore a bow in her hair all throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even college.
I also dread the day that you refuse to wear smocked clothing. As I type this, I’m envisioning your high school graduation picture. You’re wearing a long navy bishop dress with diplomas smocked across the neckline. And now, your wedding dress– maybe smocked wedding rings across the bodice…hmmm, I might be on to something here!
MR, please don’t be in rush to grow up. We love you just the way you are. You will always be our little girl.
Forget the mamaw bathing suit with knee length skirt, I’m going full body coverage after today’s Fathers Day feast. Our morning started with quiche Lorraine, crispy bacon, and fresh fruit. G gave the meal two thumbs up and didn’t even think about asking for the Texas Pete hot sauce (a sure sign that my cooking skills are improving).
For lunch, we had leftover Parmesan crusted pork chops, squash casserole (which was much better the second time around), and tomatoes and cucumbers with feta cheese. No meal is complete without a dessert, so we topped off our leftover lunch with a fabulously delicious strawberry cake with whipped topping. The cake (found on the side of the strawberry Duncan Hines cake mix) was moist and light and the icing was enough to put my dreams of wearing my old skinny jeans to an end–permanently.
Supper was even better than breakfast and lunch. G grilled up the all time best BBQ chicken. The chicken had marinated for two days in Italian Dressing so it was tender and cooked to perfection. Add sweet corn and tomatoes as a side and round two of the strawberry cake, and you’ve got two very fat and happy Harvey’s.
Aside from eating way too much, G and I spent Father’s Day chasing crab crawler around the house. She is officially into everything. And at eight months, she’s learned that she can get away with just about anything by flashing a big smile and a call out for dada. God love our sweet baby girl; I know she’s going to be a handful! Between cooking and feasting, this was the only picture I managed to take of MR all day.
This was the second year that G had to miss the annual Harrell fishing trip off the coast of Georgia. To say that he was bummed would be an understatement. Between the fishing trip and the passing of Tim Russert, I knew I had to get G out of the house to lift his spirits. What better way than starting off your Saturday with a visit to the petting zoo?
Ah yes, after MR’s morning nap, we loaded up and headed to Afton, Virginia to meet Chloe the Camel, Uncle Pete the pig, and two very adorable black and white goats named Gypsy and Oreo. We also met horses, a wallaby, sheep, and a jacob ram.
After our petting zoo adventure, we stopped for lunch at the Blue Mountain Brewery where G enjoyed a Full Nelson Pale Ale and a gigantic bratwurst sandwich. MR was exhasuted, but remained a trooper as long as we kept her belly full with bread, fruit, and whatever else we could get our hands on (I think she may have even tried the bratwurst).
Later in the afternoon, we made a quick trip to the grocery to pick up a few items for supper. Tonight’s meal: Parmesan Crusted Pork Chops and squash casserole. I know, it’s a weird combo, but it’s what G requested and being that it’s Father’s Day Weekend, I happily obliged. While the casserole did not earn a second dish award (I knew when G pulled out the hot sauce that he was not a fan) the pork chops were fabulous! The recipe is quick and easy and very tasty.
After a full day of animals, beer, and good food, I think it’s safe to say that G’s first ever Father’s Day weekend is off to a promising start. Tomorrow, Ive got even more in store for my sweet husband. I’m surprising him with breakfast–quiche lorraine, bacon, and fresh fruit. And two new Columbia fishing shirts so that he will be ready for next years fishing trip. Happy first Father’s Day Weekend, G! We love you.
Parmesan Crusted Pork Chops:
2 large eggs
1 cup dried Italian-style bread crumbs
3/4 cups freshly grated Parmesan
4 (1/2 to 3/4-inch thick) center-cut pork loin chops (each about 10 to 12 ounces)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 tablespoons olive oil
Whisk the eggs in a pie plate to blend. Place the bread crumbs in another pie plate. Place the cheese in a third pie plate. Sprinkle the pork chops generously with salt and pepper. Coat the chops completely with the cheese, patting to adhere. Dip the chops into the eggs, then coat completely with the bread crumbs, patting to adhere.
Heat 3 tablespoons of oil in a very large skillet over medium heat. Add pork chops, in batches if necessary, and cook until golden brown and the center reaches 150 degrees, about 6 minutes per side.
Nothing like hitting the gym three times this week and huffing, puffing, and cussing the elliptical machines, only to blow it all at Cheese Burger in Paradise. Four mini burgers, a plate full of fries, and an hour of Buffett music; I couldn’t be any happier.
And P.S.–don’t laugh when you spot “mamaw” at the pool, sporting a floral print onepiece with built in knee-length skirt; just know that those four mini burgers and shoe string french fries were worth every calorie!
“Mary-Garrett” (as Gran C calls her) looks more and more like her Daddy everyday
