I'm just going to say it

There is no better way to cruise the internet.
Really, this is where it's at.
Only thing that would make it better is doing a little internet shopping with one of those solid black credit cards that don't have limits and the bank account to pay it off. Can't a girl have it all?

Just some good advice from Mel, the sage

Humans, it has been crazy around here. Crazy. A few notes.

1) Don't forget what your Mama/doctor/pride told you. Measure yourself in the morning or you might be 28 and suddenly find yourself a quarter inch shorter than you used to be on the office height wall. My office bro and I found ourselves in that sad, little boat yesterday at 2pm. Stop crying for us. We re-measured at 8am this morning and the wall was honest once again. Also, if your office doesn't have a height wall you're missing out. No better way to break the ice with a new director than "Take off your shoes please." Don’t tell us what type of rules we're breaking. We're a university. We're liberal.

2)If you start running a bath for your babe don't go in the backyard and lay in the hammock. You might start swinging. The weather is probably going to be perfect. You might have giant red ball to kick around under pretty lights. Your bathroom might suddenly be in need of a sump pump.

3)Don't know what to make for dinner? Get a pizza. Even if it's just a take home one from Whole Foods. Nine bucks to stay out of the kitchen for night? Worth it. Oh pizza, if I was a songwriter, I would dedicate an entire album of ballads to you.

4)If you look in a mirror and at first glance aren't able to tell if you're wearing pants, you're not. Probably just denim underwear. If your zipper has four teeth and a button, you're in the danger zone. Sure you're in college and rules are for the youngins, but going in public nekid is not the way you want to greet adulthood. They turn the AC up nice and high in some buildings. Do you want your hair to grow back in the middle of a Psych 101? No. If you really need to buck the system just go throw some red plastic cups on your lawn and wear your raybans indoors.

And another oldie of us, from anniversary number two. One week from today we'll be slow dancing to Journey or Chicago or something like that whilst gazing googley eyed and arguing over who loves each other more. Or at the very minimum refraining from using any ninja moves or curse words.

If I could marry a food today

Phin is having eating issues. The issue being he won't do it. It's been stressing me out seeing him run around all ribsy like. I keep reminding him that the ladies like some chunk. The ladies being me, his vovo and that pediatrician of his. I was sure that last one would convince him to down some hearty mac and cheese because he's got it bad for her. Must be all that devilish red hair she's sporting.

Either way, zucchini bread is the brand new love of my life. I've given it to him post meal ( meal = eating three bites and throwing everything else on the floor screaming for Liza) and so far he's been a champion zucchini downer.

I used this recipe with some adjustments. I'll fill you in but I'm not promising success. My wierd-a changes never seem to replicate well and my memory sucks so I might be telling you wrong in the first place.

I only used half the sugar plus a tablespoon or so.
I added a hearty squirt of honey.
I threw in a very large, very ripe banana.
Added half/three quarters of a baked sweet potato.
Zucchini was more like 2 1/2 cups.
Half white, half whole wheat flour.
Shorted the oil a little bit.
I may have added some extra vanilla. I had one those turn the mixer on way too fast so vanilla went everywhere mishaps and threw a bunch more in.

I also needed to bake it quite a bit longer than the recipe called for, but that might have to do with our elevation, 4500 feet.

It's so freaken good. I ate it for breakfast. Here's proof. Don't judge, these pics are I barely woke up and peed pics.

Happy weekend!

Here's the thing about Friday's, they don't come often enough.

It's going to be an awesome weekend. I hope.

Agenda includes

-Ice cream tonight with the babe. Groupon expires today, oops.
-A rubber ducky race on Sunday. I think Phin's head might explode.
-Ethiopian food with the absolute coolest family I know, also Sunday.
-Anniversary Prep.
-Cuddling with that sweet monster I live with every second I can restrain him. He's stronger than he looks.

Dare I say I might organize my closet? Should I even hope for fifteen seconds to clean a bathroom? Maybe two?

I seriously doubt it. We'll be lucky if I can kick a path through the laundry room. Or at least shove it enough to close the door. Think I'm joking? Let's review my history.

Have an awesome weekend people.

Oh and just because my anniversary is in a week and a half, here's some vintage Mel & Jared. I've been diggin through old pics and this happens to be one of Jared's very favorite. It's been his profile pic on facebook since he started an account. It's seven years old.

If you think Jared digs the pic because we're in it, think again. It was his favorite scarf ever and he misses it everyday.

Brain dead and tired.

Anyone else over summer by the time September rolls around? Anyone else over me whining about summer? Please humans, I beg you to share your "get through the last effing hot days of summer" tips.

I'm drinking lots of this and pretending the sugar doesn't count.



And eating on restaurant patios a million more times because that never gets old.

Christmas yet?

Can it be Christmas? There are some things I want and so far no one can give them to me. I'm hoping Big Red will give a girl a break. Let's hope he forgets about the days I threw things at Jared and puts me on the nice list. S, just think of what I was doing at 2am this morning. If cleaning up that explosion doesn't earn me some points toward future sainthood, nothing will.

A brand new....uterus. Whoa, is that too much for you guys? Should I have started with a Harry Potter Snuggie? My bad. The one I have is completely defunct at this point and full of tumors. Pretty sure it's time for a trade in. In fact, you can have it for free if you just give me another awesome baby. I feel like I can stipulate what type of child I want if I'm giving you an organ. Did I just say it was broken? Totally kidding, perfect working order up in this abdomen.

Better insurance. What the eff happened in the last five years? A four grand deductable? I miss you 2005 insurance. I loved you. I treated you like a princess. I want you back. I can't afford to pay in full for an MRI. Together we could make magic. Magic images of my lower half. Let's make it right.

A career for my husband that doesn't not require him to be gone more than he is home. We just celebrated him being in town for twenty straight days. That is a long, long glorious time in Mel/Lesco land. I always say we didn't feel the seven year itch this last married year because we've only actually been in the same town for four. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Not. What idiot made that up? Someone who probably didn't actually like the person they were speaking of. Distance just makes me resent you for getting an awesome night sleep while I'm cleaning up poop and puke from various creatures living in my house. Some human, some not.

An Anthropologie gift card. What, too attainable for a list of this nature? Not in this house suckers. It's looking about as magical as that two dollar gas Bachman's promising.

P.S. I love my life. I love my boys. I'm a happy girl. I just like complaining and calling on mythical men for help once in a while. Really, when you get the chance to take one of the incredibly rare "look, my baby is in the bathtub and hahaha, he has a mohawk" pics, you're living a good life. And if you tried to do it to yourself an hour later when you were flying solo in the tub, call me. We're probably soul mates.

One is where it's at.

One has some serious pros.

You get to leave the house in your jammies and the general population thinks you're cute, not great material for that wal-mart blog.

People love your speech impediment. Chuluck = truck? From a girl with a lisp, this is a big one.

"You're getting soooo big" is a total compliment. Sometimes it's followed by clapping. No one claps when I gain weight. Ever.

If you aren't near a bathroom, no issue. Don't say you haven't been there.

Someone will read you to sleep. I'd love this every night.

You are the meal eater, not the meal maker. Your palate is satisfied by simple things, like these.



One is suh-weet.

It sucked, but we made it out alive. Mostly

Every once in a while something happens that makes me think, "Whoa. Whooooaaaaa. Now I can call myself a real mom." Sometimes the events that inspire these thoughts are perfect moments, other times it's being covered in a gallon of my child's vomit.

We were sick and everyone thought we were gross. I'm sure the cashiers at the hardware store are still trying to get Phin juice out of the self service station. Have to give Lesco major kudos for handling that one. And the two puking sessions on the way home from said store. And the next three after that.

Phin alternated between sleeping and destroying the house/my will to live in sanitary conditions. For a sick kid, he had some serious energy. I think he was a viking in a past life. He probably drank a lot and clubbed people. He probably left that life with fewer limbs than he was born with. I bet his name was Kveldulf..or something.

I joined the sick club on day two. Never a cookie, always a cookie cutter. Wait, other way around.



Please someone tell me that you too have had a moment where your child has climbed all over you while you sat picking at your nails, too weak to address the fact that you are mere furniture in the eye of your offspring. Anyone?



Plus, I haven't had internet in my house for over a week. A WEEK. I sat outside my brothers house and used his wireless a couple of times while he was sleeping. Steve & Kari, does that creep you out?

Yay for google! Yay for health!

love vs love

Things I'm loving about today. And things I'm loving.

I’m loving how skinny I feel in these jeans I got on. They have mystical powers that create the illusion that I work out. My butt has that perky shelf thing going on. My butt does not have that perky shelf thing going on when I roll out of bed. Some people need mascara, I need magic jeans. And mascara.

I’m loving the pudge sneaking over the jeans. Wasn’t there when I woke up and got dressed. Why does my fat always hide until I’m out in public like, “Booyah, what are you going to do now B?” I’m going to hold my purse in front of me when I walk and suck in. I think that’s what they teach you in Pilates.

I’m loving that we have a reserve of quality fans on hand in the office for days our air conditioner is on the fritz. Thanks Andrea.

I’m loving the ac being on the fritz. Yelling across the room at your co worker, “I asked you which is the most promising future super power, India or China?” is so awesome.

Ok, we don’t yell that. It’s more like, “Can you believe Snooki and Mike? Can you believe it??” Just as legit.

I’m loving walking home. It’s all by choice. No broken car or anything. I’m getting plenty of time to gather my thoughts and have a little peaceful walking time before wrestling that one year old Viking warrior I live with. I need my mental strength.

I’m loving walking home. What, you’ve never been conflicted? The homeless guys that whistle at me then follow for three blocks. Dude, I have all my teeth and for the most part they are pointing in the right direction. Do you really think we can work through our differences? The french fries on the sidewalk walk which were previously housed in some human’s stomach. The valet who almost ran me over with a Toyota. If I’m going to go, can’t I go American? All so charming.

I want to end on something positive.

I’m loving summer walks with my little family. We’ve been trucking our little caravan all over town the last week and it’s been wonderful. I’m not ready for Jared to leave town again. I’m fond of that man. We like to hang. So out of town? It sucks.

Oh and I'm loving these dixie cup lights. Which brings me to loving blogland. So much love.

Pretty cups here

Things people said to me that I kind of wish they didn't..

Yup, I could have lived without these inquiries.

“What happened to your face?”

Dude, you haven't ever had a waxing incident before? You haven't. Well if you want to keep that track record, don't try doing it while entertaining a one year old.

“Are you pregnant?”
“Are you sure?”

I don't want to use expletives in my blog. Don't ask me if I'm sure. I might be swayed.

“What happened to your face?”

Right now you're like , “Mel, I know it's late, but you already wrote that.” And my face is like, “Frick. Mel.” This time it involved a door. Also, the sign on a door. One last thing, I'm an idiot.

“Is that normal?”

All you need to know is Jared asked me this. About myself. Ooff.

And my very, very favorite...

“Is this yours?”

This was my child. Hands down, worst moment.

Not making the list, “Should he be playing with those?” “What's that smell?” “Uh, did those shrink?”

Anyone have one to share? Lay it on me. Make me feel better about myself.

And if you got nothin, let's stare at this cute little face. Always puts me in a good mood.

My Na

My sister Na (Renee, but I don't know the last time I called her that) was next in the birthday line. My Sha na is one of my favorite people in the whole world. It's so easy to be with your sister/best friend. I'm in a listing mood so check it, things you can do with your sister, if your sister was my Na.

1)Sit on the grass/bench/curbing and judge the public's fashion choices. We're nice and quiet so no hurt feelings. And we almost always end up with grass stains or wet derrieres so karma doesn't let us escape unscathed. If you can't shake your head at front butt with your sis, what do you have?

2)Take 10,000 photos. You want a photo shoot partner? Call my sister. Camera whoring will commence. There will be duck face. There might be jazz hands. We'll probably argue over who gets to stand on the left.

3)Eat Asian food. You think you can do this with anyone? Fine, you can, but it won't be the same. We have favorite waiters at favorite restaurants. We know what the other person orders. Thai, Vietnamese, Japanese, Indian. And we always share appetizers. Gah, we're so worldly.

4)Steal each others clothes. You might be able to convince me the whole reason God decided to create sisters is so they could double their closets. He wants us to be happy, right? Too sacrilegious? Probably, but it's true. I dare you to disagree with me. Wait, I take that back. But if you had a Na, you'd know I speak the truth.

5)You always have a singing buddy. If I feel like belting Friends in Low Places at the top of my lungs, Na's got my back. And we do the best version of The First Noel at Christmas. We'll invite you to our open house this year, but bring your tissue. It's touching.

I will go on. We find magic shoes. We can watch Law and Order marathons all afternoon. She'll recreate Starbucks Caramel Apple Cider for me if it's not available. We tell each other secrets. She gave me a foot massage while I was in labor in the hospital. She helped my husband with my wedding ring. She'll watch White Christmas with me..or not. We have a pact to buy up all the houses in our favorite neighborhood. She loves my baby.

Sisters are presents you aren't always nice too but they forgive you anyways and then will tell you if you have a booger. And even if they're prettier than you, they'll tell you the wish they had your body. But with only half the butt.

Happy Birthday my Shanana. I love you.



Also, sisters don't mind when you hijack their birthday post to stick a couple more pics of you favorite dress up. Cause I love it when Lesco takes decent pics. We make out to celebrate so it's a win win.

In a family this big, you blog about a birthday every couple days.

We have five birthdays in my family this month. FIVE. My Dad kicks it off on the eleventh and Dorina, our Albanian sister/daughter/auntie closes the month on the 29th. In between we have a Steve, a Na and an Endri. That's a lot of cake.

Maybe we can convince someone to go the pie route. I love pie. Crap, now it's almost midnight and all I'm thinking about is how I've let my relationship with lemon meringue dwindle. I miss us.

Focus Mel.

Have I mentioned my parents are young chickens? Young chickens who love parties. So pictures, because this post is going no where.

Things I shouldn't teach my kid. Part 1

Ice cream before dinner is ok. Especially Ben and Jerry's. Spoil your appetite? Make you scream all night long from a tummy ache slash sugar high? Huh.

Let groceries sit for a while on the counter before you get to putting them away. Maybe milk should be like wine and cheese. Better aged.

Feet on the counter are fine. Isn't that why they make clorox wipes?

Putiting your pajamas bottoms and favorite band t-shirt on hours before bed? Perfectly acceptable. Classy even. Wear them to Walmart, you'll fit right in.

Post pictures that make you look like a terrible parent on the internet. It will make people feel better about themselves. It's called the MTV Teen Mom effect. or affect. Who knows.

A letter to my Dad

Today is my Dad's birthday. All week my Mom has been giving him letters from his children. This is one of the two from me. He's already read it, it's fair game. Besides, the world could use a little Mike Buck.

Dad,

I can't believe you're turning fifty. FIFTY is old. Just kidding. Actually you're a tiny babe in the scheme of things. Just think. You have to live your whole life over again to make it to one hundred. Raise all five of us kids again. That's right, you are only fifty years old but you have already had five children, seen them through school, sent them off to college and are watching them get married and have babes of their own.

A few weeks ago somebody broke out the home movies at Sunday dinner and they played that one from Christmas. The one where you interview all of us in Grandma's basement. We've watched it a thousand times and I remember that day very well. I was so sad when I realized you had filmed all of my siblings while I was home alone with Mom. So even though it was Christmas Eve, you walked me back down to Grandma's, just the two of us.
 
You seemed so big and strong and Dad like, but while watching that movie recently, I realized you were the same age I am now. I was stunned. How come I'm having such a hard time figuring out this parent thing? How come I feel like such a child raising a child and you were so good at it? You had four kids with one on the way. You had been working two jobs, throwing multiple parties a year and doing science projects. You were giving amazing Christmas's and summer vacations. I almost forgot to feed Phin dinner last week. We are just three and you were 6.5.
 
So I have tried to make myself a list of some of the most important things you have taught me as a parent. If I follow these things, maybe my kids will remember me as a Mom and not just a crazy girl who gave them Annie's Mac and Cheese three nights a week.

One. Television can wait.
 
I can't remember a single night where you asked us to leave you alone while you watched a sports game or any show on tv. That isn't an exaggeration. What I do remember is you coming home and saying "Let's go somewhere!" Pack everyone in the car and bar-b-q on a school night. Go explore an abandoned fort. Tie one of your children to the roof of the car because they are to little to stand on the bumper with everyone else. Break into a closed historical site. Go rock climbing. Go swimming in the river. Jump off the rocks at Lake Tahoe. Eat at a casino buffet. Take the dog for a walk in the park after dark and see the hoards of frogs. Go to the drive ins. There is always something to do and you showed us that. You can watch tv when your kids are grown and your Bernese Mountain dog runs into you going full speed on the ice. You and that torn up knee can get real acquainted with all that tv you missed.
 
Two. If there is a math problem, a six foot hole can solve it.
 
I know I'm not the first to mention this in our letters to you. It's just so Dad. Every single one of us can remember sitting around the table with you with your big brain (calculus problems for fun at work? Disgusting.) trying to teach our little brains basic math. "Listen Mel. You have a hole, six feet deep." This is where it gets murky. Add dirt? Dig deeper? Dig a parallel hole? Imagine a hole in space titled x? You made it work. All math problems can be fixed with a hole.
 
Three. Don't be afraid of public speaking.
 
We aren't shy in our family. Maybe it's because in a family of seven you have to make a little noise to be heard or maybe it's because we always had the really out going Dad everyone else wanted to be around. I remember a dinner where you made each of us stand up in front of the table and speak for five minutes on a randomly assigned topic. Ok, maybe this taught me to b.s. a little bit. Maybe this is the skill that got me through college. For years after I would practice doing this in my car while I drove.   
 
Four. Make your own spaghetti sauce.

Do I need to explain? No jars of Ragu from you. If spaghetti sauce was cooking on the stove, the first question for Mom was “Did you make this or Dad?” You. Spaghetti almost always meant you. Must be that Italian heritage.
 
Five. Read. Read as many books as you can.

This was a lesson from both you and Mom. One of my favorites. Do you remember five kids curled up on the top bunk while you read The Hobbit? Are there many other kids who looked forward to their Dad coming home because it meant an Alfred Hitchcock story or some Edgar Allen Poe? You chose the best stuff. I had nightmares over The Monkey’s Paw but I will never forget it. All of your children love books. We had so many growing up. Stacks and stacks. My home is taking on the same shape. Even my bathroom looks like a mini library thanks to your influence. I love it. I’m grateful.
 
Six. Let you children make fools of themselves. It puts hair on the chest.

Why you were always talking about chest hair to your daughters like it was a good thing is beyond me. Don’t you know we were already fighting an uphill battle with our Italian and Portuguese blood? Either way, you let us do silly things. Need an example? How about the time after I had my wisdom teeth removed. On the way home I insisted stopping by the store the boy I had a crush on worked. “Sure.” You shouldn’t have said sure. I looked like a complete crazy drooling on myself and collapsing by the pudding. You pretty much dragged me out. Laughing. I love that day.
 
Last. (on this list, but not in real life because I could go on for days) Love your family.

I never thought there was somewhere you’d rather be when you were home. Even now, if we’re at your house and you need to run to the store, you ask one of us to join you. It has always felt like your family is made up of your favorite people. We sang in the car. We sang in the house, still do. We all climbed on to your bed on weekend mornings. You dance with all of you daughters whenever there is good music. And when I say dance, you flung us around like rag dolls. I still feel bad about that girl I landed on when you flipped me in the air at Moni’s wedding a couple of years ago. She was a bridesmaid. She was not happy. Whoops.
We are a close, happy family because you made us that way.

I want my family to be the same way. I love you Dad. Happy Birthday.

I just remembered, I love summer.

Fall can stay away for a while. We hung out in the front yard tonight as a family and I realized how perfect this season is. Eight in the evening and the sun is just setting. My flower beds are looking full and beautiful. My husband is poking around the garden. I'm laying on the grass throwing a rock for my puppy. My baby Phinny is attacking us and giving raspberries.

Yup, the kid learned a new trick. It cracks me up. Except for the time he gets disoriented and throws some of those brand new, razor sharp teeth of his in the mix.

I love those boys of mine.

It's getting darker

I want to post. Really. But I'm so weak. My fingers can hardly type. The world is a dismal gray this morning.

Did I mention I'm fasting? Not even for a good cause, like a hunger strike to bring attention to the suffering of sea life or those whose netflix bill just increased eight dollars. For insurance purposes. The indignity. As if being denied that which nourishes me isn't torture enough, they are going to weigh me.

I hate being weighed. I have dreaded doctors appointments my whole life for that very reason. The final stab in my gut is that I always weigh more when I fast. It's like my body goes into starvation mode the second I deny it a meal and holds onto every piece of fat and water like it's been three months, not nine hours. It's pretty near impossible to get me to go twelve.

So all you get out of me this morning is a beacon of hope. That's what it looks like to me anyway.

you know you want to make it too

I want to make it magical

My children's lives.

When I was growing up my Mom and Dad made things special. We weren't wealthy, but we never knew. They had so many ideas. Homemade McBuck meals instead of McDonalds. Summer Olympic games complete with medals. Graveyards with hand painted messages on each stone. After school jaunts to caves or mines with as many friends could fit in the car. Neighborhood parties with strung up donuts and bobbing for apples.

My dad took a job at the airlines so he could show his five children the country. I remember being called out of school just so we could catch a flight to San Diego or New York. Sometimes he didn't even know where he was taking us until we arrived at the airport.

My mother helped us plan talent shows. She read to us individually every night. She baked. She sewed. She wrote stories with us as the central characters (in animal form of course) and songs. She writes such pretty songs.

My Mom was always making things, creating a beautiful world, while my Dad planned adventures to see it.

I worry that I don't have it in me. That my head, my silly brain, isn't full of enough ideas to make my children feel like they are living in a beautiful, impossible world for the few short years they have before real life teaches them to be cynical.

I'm lucky to live in the time I do. A web of amazing ideas at my fingertips. Brilliant people share their ideas everyday and I can find them. I can do my best for my Phinny and the children that will hopefully follow. I will make them superheros.

Amazing cape tutorial found Here

Jared and Phin love, love, love when we do this

Thrift shop. I'm looking for something, furniture, so I dragged my boys around town this afternoon. It's their favorite way to spend two hours on Monday afternoon.

They won't admit it, in fact some times they openly claimed otherwise. But I know the tears and screams were just for show. We found treasures. Actually, we didn't. But we did find some stuff that we wanted once we saw it.



Really, we couldn't have lived without any of it. Okay, we could have. So what.

I love you summer but your time is limited

Ugh, go away hot weather that wilts my flowers and makes my dog lethargic.
I know I'm a demon, but I'm trying to lure slightly cooler temps out today.

I made pumpkin muffins. I also threw in some butternut squash because we all know fall LOVES butternut. They have a very public love affair going on.



I wore orange and black to work today. Sin against fashion to channel October's favorite holiday? I'm a west coaster. These are Giant's colors.



Pinterest fall fashion fest? Love Story inspiration? Why procrastinate? Have to fall in love with trousers and sweaters sometime this year.




Admit it. You may not want to say goodbye to summer, but you love yourself a little fall. Right?

Proof we're still in love and interesting.

A giant fear when you go on a first date is that you won't have enough to talk about. Bringing the weather up more than once is a good indication that you should either make out or go home because the conversation isn't going any where.

Jared has told me a billion times that one of the reasons he knew he should marry me was that we went on road trip early on and never had any awkward car silence. Think billion is an exaggeration? Maybe, but he's in the other room saying right now. Over and over. And over. And sometimes he texts it to me, in his sleep. So you get that this is a big deal, right?

Well we still got it going on humans, nine very long but also incredibly fast years later.

Here are just a few of the very serious topics that only deeply in love people talk about that popped up in our car rides to and from the lake this week.

-Are famous people still famous in heaven? Conclusion - For sure. And I'll be first in line to buy heaven tickets to see Bradley Nowell.

-Did cave people sword fight for fun? Conclusion - Duh. And we pretty much know they were sent to time out in opposite sides of the cave. Don't question us, Lesco does have a BA in Anthropology.

How long will Phin's awkward stage last? Conclusion - Unknown. Mine was from about 10 to 19. Jared swears his lasted 20 years. Apparently we were married while he was still in it. So it could be really long. On the other hand, he is the most brilliant and beautiful child to have graced the earth in the last two thousand or so EVERs, so he could glide through life adorned and worshiped. Really, we can see it going either way.

Phin is not excited about the possibility of a two decade phase of awkwardness. He needed a few minutes to process.



How much do you love me? Conclusion- Really are you still asking this after nine years.

Counter conclusion- Really, did you think I changed from girl to android in the last decade. Wait. Don't answer that. We've had this conversation.

You win some, lose some and watch some tv.

I prefer vacations with all three members of my little family present.
When all three of us are healthy.
Vacations where all the fun things you pictured happening, happen.
Vacations where real life stress doesn't nudge it's way in.
Real life can suck it. ;)

But there has been some good moments. And I did finally watch season one of Mad Men. So not all bad, right?

September is going to be awesome.

I love September. Anniversary, beginning of Autumn, cooler temps.

And this year, new baby! I can't wait to meet my newest nephew. Because apparently that's all we make in my family. Boy #4. And he will be perfect because they all are.

My beautiful sister in law let me take some pictures. She was almost trampled by a herd of pre teen girls. At 8 months pregnant it's not so easy to stand up at a seconds notice. So she just laid there laughing. At least she would have gone out smiling.