Saturday, September 27, 2008

showered with love



i am truly a blessed woman.

it all started with my mom (or i think it did...apparently many peeps have been working undercover in the wolfeinelli showering department). this spring, she delightfully announced to me that she wanted to throw us a shower, and throw one she did.

brian and i arrived in morgantown one sunny weekend in august and spent a gorgeous sunday surrounded by friends (ours and parental) and family. the day was a smashing success, which is a good thing, considering irene may have been a bit frantic about hosting the event. in the preceding days and weeks, i was emailed about many a detail, from themes (nixed) to games (definitely nixed) to irene's confusion over our desire to have the affair be co-ed ("but what will the MEN do?"). i agreed wholeheartedly to a "diaper cake" centerpiece which the crafty irene erected three layers tall...it consisted of about sixty rolled up diapers and was festooned with pacifiers, rattles, and other cute little toys. truly a sight to behold.


(the above photo is an approximation...dare i say irene's diy version was even better)

when consulted numerous times of what to serve, i suggested some grilled pizzas, in the interest of keeping things economical, fun, and easy. this proved to be stress-inducing for our hosts, i could tell, and my dear friend katie --personal chef and kitchen goddess-- stepped in to relieve the worries. she was quite a hit with the recently or soon-to-be retired menfolk, who apparently decided that what they would do, as irene had so fretted over, would be to quiz katherine on how they could improve upon their skills as home cooks and gourmands. thanks again, katie. you are seriously a trooper.

the following month, a very sneaky kara dean and dylan threw another affair. smart lady and busy mom that she is, kara arranged several committees, including those involving food (dylan), set up (heather dawn) and decorations (joyous aka "the white tornado" and deej, purveyor of all things good).

"what tha...?!"


it was a spectacular affair and, once again, the weather gods smiled upon us. kara dean had many fun activities planned, such as a compilation of fabric squares covered in handwritten labor wishes and a betting pool predicting when max will arrive! deej created favors of handmade, signature scented baby shoe soaps from vintage molds. amazing.



finally, just a couple of weeks ago, i was informed of an evening job for parents mag. apparently, a reshoot was needed due to a horrible kids groomer who was hired in a pinch when i was not available. smugly, i said, "sure, i'll do the reshoot", only to arrive at another surprise shower! the parents peeps raided their goodie closet (which is NOT a myth-- these things really do exist) and gifted max with all manner of adorable baby things, plus a lovely spa gift certificate for mama.

aside from compiling a registry and the consulting sessions with irene, i had nothing to do with any of this...and i couldn't imagine planning three more lovely, fun, and stress-free (for me, anyway) events. to quote my new favorite book momma zen, "the unplanning was perfect". a good lesson for nowlze in letting go of control, which i am certain will come in handy in the days to come.

speaking of which, i am 37 weeks today. max is full term. *gulp*.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

cuts like a knife



while i made bdub swear that he wouldn't tell ANYONE about the little incident i am going to reveal, i think i need to come clean. maybe i can help pregnant women everywhere who feel they have lost complete, utter, and total control of their emotions?

so we are driving home from a lovely two days in the berkshires yesterday (bdub played with the sweet divines at mass MoCA--highly recommended museum if you are ever in the area).

bryan adams' "heaven" comes on the radio (no--not RYan adams, the alt country indie darling. BRYan adams, the 80's cheeseball).

"oh, thinkin' about our younger years....

it was only you and me
we were young and wild and free...."


that was all it took. i crumpled into a puddle of mush. i didn't have a pretty cry, either, with a couple of nostalgic tears running down my cheeks that could be quietly wiped away with any sort of dignity. i bawled, snotty, ugly, and inconsolable, i kept repeating to bdub, "i am SUCH a DORK! i can't believe i am bawling over a stupid bryan adams song!"

upon relaying this story to my friend dylan, he assured me that my brother, jay, would lose all respect for me if i ever revealed this nugget of truth to him. if i ever had any punk rock credibility at any time, it, like so much of my former, stoic-in-the-face-of bad-80's pop- self, is gone with the wind. hormones are a funny thing that way.

thankfulness

this little conversation could be overheard at 92 hawthorne last night:

me:"bdub, thanks for making me soup."

bdub: "thanks for going to massachusetts with me this weekend."

me: "thanks for getting such a nice hotel room."

bdub: "thanks for letting me impregnate you."