Hunter: 8 Months

I'm not even going to lie, May whizzed by so fast, I can't remember what happened this past month.

Bubbers, you have become so much fun.  Now that you are getting older, we are feeling more comfortable to play a little rough with you.    And you love it.

Anything that is in your reach automatically goes into your mouth.  You have become more and more curious about things and trying to keep you limited to just your toys is becoming difficult.  

Your favorite toys are your stacking cups and and your Little Einstein Roller Pillar Balls.  They are awesome because you can pick them up, bang them together and gnaw on them.  I won't leave the house without one or the other.

                         

You've become a champion sitter and able to occupy yourself.  I am feeling more comfortable sitting on the ground with a toy while I flip the laundry or run to the bathroom.  

While you aren't crawling yet, you kind of scoot yourself across the floor-- and by 'across the floor' I actually mean 'directly towards the electrical cables and TV stand'.  

This month you also learned how to clap.  It is probably the cutest thing ever, and you love it when Daddy says "babybabybabybabybaby" over and over again.  

We spent Memorial Day with your future wife, Jenna.  You took this opportunity to cop a feel.

Later, we plopped you love birds in the swimming pool where I captured the best picture ever:

 One of the things I love the most, is sitting and watching Hunter play.  Creepy, I know, but I am completely fascinated in watching him learn.  He'll pick up an object, turn it around to inspect it, give it a good shake and then shove it in his mouth.  I just can't get enough of it.

Bubskidubs, we love you so much.

Always & Forever,
  ME

Our Son Can Now Go to Heaven. He'll Thank Us Later.

Everytime I sat down to write this post, I kept thinking of the baptism scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding.  You know the scene where Gus is all "itsa your lucky day:  you get to be baptized in the Greek Church!"

We decided to have Hunter baptized this past spring.  JEGs and I are not super religious, but I figured that if the Mayans are right and the world ends in December, I wanted to give my kid a fighting chance.

JEGs was raised Ukrainian Orthodox and I was raised Methodist.  Since we were married by a Methodist priest, I really really really wanted to have Hunter baptized at my mother-in-law's church.  I knew it would be very special to her.  However, there were a couple stipulations that made it not possible, so we had him baptized at the church I went to as a child (and my parents are still very active members) Bensalem United Methodist in Bensalem, PA.

(There are two spelling errors on that invitation that I did fix before they went out.  Since my hard drive is dead, this was the only copy I could find in an e-mail.)

I know a lot of mothers use the train from their wedding dress to make a baptismal outfit for their children, but  loved that dress so much I don't want anyone going anywhere near it with a pair of scissors.  If you do, I will cut you. Not even joking.   I was kind of stumped as to what to get him,until my mother-in-law, Momma G, mentioned she still had JEGs' suit.  It was the cutest little button down shirt with overalls and a matching jacket.   The jacket was a teeny bit big, but otherwise, everything fit perfectly.

with jacket

sans jacket and serious face added.  

To honor his Uki background, Momma G purchased his baptismal cross.

The ceremony is pretty simple, and Hunter took the sprinkling of the holy water over his head like a champ.  

He held out for most of the service, but started to get a little fussy towards the end.

JEGs and I chose my eldest brother Russell to be Hunter's godfather and my cousin Tara came from Pittsburgh to be his godmother.  Although Tara is my cousin, I consider her one of my dearest friends as well (she was a bridesmaid in our wedding).  She stayed with us for the weekend, and it was awesome to spend time with her since I don't get to see her that often.  And I'll be honest, she was super helpful too, so it was kind of nice to have a personal assistant for a couple of days.  When I make it big, I'm hiring Tara.  We'll be like Britney and Fe.   But without the KFed.  

Anyway, since the church was a solid 40 minutes from our house, my parents were kind enough to host a luncheon at their house.  We did a picnic-style menu, complete with sandwiches, pasta salads and my sister-in-law Angie's famous deviled eggs.

I wasn't going to have a lot of time for decorating between the church service and the start of the luncheon, so I went simple with decor.  I strung a paper banner across the window, and added little monogram cupcake toppers.  Cause I can't NOT decorate.  

In the Ukrainian ceremony, the godparents are more involved and have candles that are lit during the service.  Since the godparents basically just nod their head and smile in our service, we  used the candles from JEGs' baptism as a centerpiece for the table

Get your grub on!

The weather was absolutely perfect, and many people took the opportunity to dine alfresco

You may remember Wyatt as the ring bearer at our wedding.  Here he is with JEGs' grandmother, "BaBa"

My niece Skylar is the cutest little thing.  Tara was on a mission to be her BFF by the end of the day.  Mission:  Accomplished.

The kids from both sides of the family got along so well together!

Huntface did so well the entire day, and finally passed out on JEGs' chest before we left.  You may now collectively go "awwwwwwww".

Always & Forever,
  ME

Gettin' Crafty

So like 30 years ago April 1st, I met up with a bunch of other craft-lovin' bloggers for the Always Crafty Event.  I was soooo super stoked about this, especially since I had to bail out of the Always Bloggy Event in October (you know... birthin' a baby nine days before made it a little difficult to attend).  

Image stole from Shannanigans.
L to R Adrienne, Michelle, Mary, Shannon and her adorable babe Gabe, Bethany, Lauren,  me and Kate

Oh yeah..be tee dubs, I chopped nine inches of hair off in February.  Forgot to tell you all.  Moving on...

Shannon from Shannigans hosted the shin dig at her house and as soon as I walked in, there was a welcome center, with a sweet vignette of flowers, rain boots and complete with swag bags.  Swag bag= free shit.  I love free shit.

For refreshments Shannon provided us with refreshing lemonade and iced tea to sip from mason jars with mint and vodka as garnish.

stolen via

stolen via

Of course as a breast feeding momma I didn't partake in the vodka.

That's a lie.  I had me some vodka.  I missed my old friend.

Can I give you my honest opinion about these paper straws that are oh-so Pinteresting right now?  I know they are great for photo shoots, but they are a little strange to drink out of.  I don't know why, but it weirded me out.  I did enjoy a personalized straw, though.  I am totally that girl that puts her drink down and walks away.  Then I don't even remember what I was drinking, so I'll start sipping on your Merlot-- even though I had chardonnay.  So yeah... if you have me over for a party, label my drink.

Shannon's cohort in this was Bethany from Rinse.  Repeat.  If you know anything about these two, you know they are not gonna half-ass it when it comes to charming decor, such as fresh lemon swag on the back of the chairs, doily chandeliers or flowers made from Trader Joe bags

stolen via

We were given lunch to help soak up the vodka as well, and it was delish and packaged in the cutest boxes that matched the color theme!

stolen via

Shannon had different craft stations scattered around her house complete with instructions and an example.  We were able to walk freely from station to station and craft and chat as we pleased.

My favorite craft was the monogram wreath.  I tried hanging mine from the front door but the foyer was littered with fake moss so it's new home is on the mantel.  And I lurve it.

When I first saw the mason jar sewing kit, I was all "this is kind of stupid", but lemmie tell you, I use this thing more then anything else from that day.  Shannon sent us home with vintage notions to fill it, and I added all my loose thread and needles from the junk drawer.  Now I have a place to corral all my sewing whatnot as well as an actual pin cushion for my needles so I won't leave them in the couch pillows.  It's cute enough to leave on the shelves in our office so I have easy access to it as well.  And it pairs nicely with the sweet bird painting Bethany gifted me years ago.  Winning!

..and for the record, I had to look up what a 'vintage notion' was, because these girls were tossing around the term like it was common vernacular.  Cue me feeling like a crafting dunce.   But I'm not gonna tell you what it is.  Because if I have to google, so do you.

The fabric flower garland looks way more difficult that it really is.  After not knowing what a notion was, I didn't want to really blow my craft-cover so I was hesitant to even attempt this.. Once I got started, I realized how easy it was.  This is the kind of thing I could see myself making while watching a Say Yes to the Dress marathon and suddenly I've lost track of time, it's three hours later and I have a twenty-five foot garland.  My (much shorter) version is currently housed in the guest room.

My chicken wire frame ended up in Hunter's room and is the perfect place to stick cards from grandparents, or recent pictures of his girlfriend, Jenna...

We also made knock-off of Terrain's $18-a-piece napkins.  Eighteen.  EACH.  Jeebus.  I like these napkins better because I got to personalize it with 'noms'.  Happiness is a hand-stamped napkin.

Afterwards we took a trip to Terrain so the non-local girls could experience the insane prices for in person.  I fell in love with a beautiful ring and thought about purchasing it for myself to celebrate my up coming birthday... until I found it was $3,700.  Yeah.  Not happening.

Yup.  Hot glue guns nestled among yummy food and drink with new friends.  That's a Sunday well spent to me.

Always & Forever,
  ME

Mother Father...'s Day

In an effort to catch up on the insanely busy 3 months I've just had, I am going to combine Mother's Day and Father's day into one post.

For my first Mother's Day I got the best gift ever:  a couple extra hours of sleep.  God bless America I needed that.   When I did finally roll out of bed, I was given a dozen red roses and a card from JEGs and Hunter

I was also treated to a breakfast of birds nest.. nooomssss

JEGs and I are not really gift-givers.  We do birthdays, and for Christmas we'll buy something for the two of us to share (i.e. a trip or furniture).  So color me shocked as hell when a couple days before Mother's Day, the hubs brought this home as an unofficial Mother's Day gift

..a  pretty new Nikon D3100.  VeryniceIlike.

I spent the rest of Mother's Day with my mother and grandmother.  We have a tradition of going to Olive Garden every year, but in recent years my grandmother hasn't been well enough to make the trip so we order take out and eat at my mother's house.  I try to appreciate every holiday I have with my grandmother, because I always fear it will be her last.

Father's Day was more of a bust.  It started off well:  Hunter woke up and I took him downstairs to play.  He went down for his morning nap and I cleaned up from the party we had the night before.  I planned on running over to Dunkin Donuts and waking JEGs up with breakfast in bed once Hunter woke up.

However, around 9 am Hunter woke up from his nap SCREAMING and it woke JEGs up.  I still ran to Dunkin Donuts, but breakfast was served downstairs.    We finished cleaning up from the party and made the decision to swing by his grandfather's house for a Father's Day/ PopPop's Birthday party.  Don't you know we weren't there five minutes when  I was called out because jackwagon decided it was a good day to shoot at cops.  So we had to leave, which caused JEGs to get frustrated, me to get defensive and resulted in a silent car ride home.

When I came back from work,  JEGs was trying to feed a fussy Hunter.  He told me a story that involved JEGs getting pooped on and Hunter spraying down the crib with pee.  I realized the day was not salvageable, so we watched a couple episodes of Mad Men and went to bed while I promised to make it up to him with a Father's Day do-over.

I was able to snap this adorable picture in the morning, however:

Hope your Mother's and Father's Days went well!

Always & Forever,
  ME

Things I'm Afraid to Tell You

This is a blog that I have written in my head many times, but have yet to share.  Not because I fear putting this information out there, but mostly because I wasn't sure how I wanted to approach it.  With humor? Medical facts?  Also it isn't something you just bring up in conversations, so I wasn't sure how to begin to talk about it.

Enter, stage left, Things I'm Afraid to Tell You.  It's all over the blogosphere and it is so freeing to read that people with perfectly styled homes and adorable children don't have it all together.   And I felt like it was the perfect time to discuss something I've been dying to talk about for some time.

So here goes..

About four months after Hunter was born, I was diagnosed with postpartum depression.  It's no secret that after you have a baby, your hormones are out. of. con. trol.  In the first two weeks I was home, I cried over everything:  breast feeding,  limited movement due to my episiotomy, no blueberry yogurt in the fridge.  I left the house for no more then 45 minutes for a doctor's appointment and when I got home I was bawling my eyes out because I missed Hunter so much.  It's just awful.

Eventually, I began to even out and  found a "new" normal.  I didn't feel like my old self, and I credited it  because I was a different person now:  I wasn't Lizzie anymore, I was Hunter's mom and this was a change I accepted.  However, I started to realize that no matter how much my life had changed, certain feelings I had were not normal.

First off, I want to be very clear:  I never had any desire to hurt either Hunter or myself.  NEVER.  I know that these can be signs of PPD, but I never experienced it.  What I did have was a lot of depression.  I couldn't get excited about upcoming events, and I felt very detached from the people around me, include JEGs and Hunter.  I had a hard time concentrating on any task and I couldn't remember anything.  Even though I never wanted to hurt Hunter, I lived in fear of doing something to hurt him.  I refused to carry him into our kitchen because I was afraid I would drop him on the tile floor.  I was afraid to leave the house because I thought someone would rear-end me in the car and hurt him.  I was afraid to leave him at daycare because what if something happened and I couldn't get to him?  I spend an entire afternoon upstairs because I was afraid I would drop him if I tried to carry him downstairs.  I literally stood at the top of the steps and hyperventilated as I imagined him tumbling down.

I was in complete denial that anything was wrong with me.  I thought I was just in a "funk" and fought to get out of it.  When I didn't feel better, I got frustrated with myself and the depression deepened.  Finally, as we got ready for bed one night, I tearfully confessed to JEGs that something was wrong and I needed help.   I made an appointment with my family doctor and was prescribed Zoloft.  After about two weeks I started to feel like me -- a feeling I didn't think I would ever feel again.  

Through this whole process I've realized that even though I am 'Hunter's Mom', I can still be 'JEGs' wife', 'PoppaBear's co-worker', and, most importantly, 'Lizzie'.   I'm not saying it isn't hard to juggle all these different roles, because lawdy is it hard, but I can be more then just a machine-driven-child-provider.

I am not looking for sympathy or pity parties, or even apologies for not knowing;  I am not ashamed of what I have gone through, and I don't think any mother should be.  I have found once you start talking about PPD, you begin to find other's have experienced it.  My hope is that this confession makes other mothers and mothers-to-be comfortable enough to know that if you don't feel quite right, it is OK to admit it and ask for help.   We as a society pit mothers against each other, forcing us to compare ourselves and feeling like we are coming up short (don't even get me started on TIME's article).  

I'm still on the Zoloft and probably will be for another couple of months.  I have my good days and there are days when the anxiety builds.  I try to take my medication every day, and I keeps JEGs in the loop with how I am doing.  

And now it's out there for the world to see.  And I feel so much lighter to have unloaded it.

Always & Forever,

  ME

Hunter: 7 Months

Remember when I was all, dudes, I'm gonna be a better blogger and not post only about Hunter?
I lied.  I should probably just rename this "Hunter in Progress".

I give you, the monster, age 7 months

Breaking News:  We have teeth.  Thank God that thing finally poked through because it was  killing me watching you scream at the drop of a hat.

You spent your first American Easter in a miserable mood.  You were super cranky (I think because said tooth was about to poke through) and every single picture taken that day, you look like you want to kick a puppy.

You cheered up in time for Ukrainian Easter the following week and had a blast with your cousins Wyatt and Wesley. 

You've realized that banging two toys together makes noise, and that is hilarious to you.  

Your favorite toy continues to be your tool set.  Not only can you chew on the tools, but the tool box makes for a very fashionable hat.

One thing is for sure, you have become quite the chatterbug!  You are always babbling and blowing raspberries.  Right now your most often "words" are dar dar dar and bah bah bah.  

As far as developmental milestones, you are sitting up like a champ.  Tummy time is more like "roll over and give mom a 'nice try' look".  I can't keep you on your belly for more then forty-five seconds.  

Since you are sitting up, we flipped you around in the tub and now you LOVE bath time.  Even after you are washed, you sit in the water splashing and playing with your tub toys.  

I love this age.  You are already becoming such a fun little boy, and I love watching you discover the world around you.  Seriously dude, you are the coolest little guy I've ever met.

Always & Forever,

  Mommy

50 Shades of Grey

This post is not about the New York Times best seller-- hate to dissapoint you all.  From what I've heard those books are basically porn and that is a little more then this conservatively-raised girl can handle.

One of the biggest questions I have gotten recently is about dying my HOVAS slipcovers.  If you remember correctly, JEGs and I became completely enamored with the HOVAS and a year later we finally snagged one for ourselves.  We got the white slipcover for it's ease of cleaning and I had dreams of dying it a deep smokey grey.  It was going to be uh-mah-zing (can I get a high five for the Penny Hartz reference?)

Uh-mah-zing it was not.   My first attempt I tried to dye it in our washing machine.  I thought I was smarter then the directions and didn't leave it in long enough because I was afraid it would turn out too dark.  When it was finished, the color was washed out and you could see a lot of areas where the fabric had creased and the dye settled.  I decided to try again, this time leaving it for the correct amount of time, hoping that the extended time would give the dye more time to reach all of the fabric.

On the right is my first attempt, and the left is my second attempt.   The color was darker, but  you could still see the marbled effect as a result of the dye settling into the creases of the fabric.  That's when I realized that my washer was not big enough to handle the size of these slip covers.

So I turned to my bathtub, thinking that would be a better fit (pun slightly intended).  After hours and hours of soaking fabric and running up and down the stairs with pots of boiling water, this is what I have to show for it

This couch is the decor equivalent of a drunk chick.  From far away she looks like she might have it together, but as you get closer, you realize that she is all over the place, and what the hell is that stain on her pants?

Even after soaking in the tub, the cushions still look marbled.

I was trying to convince myself that it has that 'denim, lived-in' feel, but it's not working.

The biggest problem is the skirt.  There are five parts to the slip covers:  each of the four cushions and the rest is one big slip cover.  And by big, I mean huge.  Way too big for our tub.  One packet of dye was not enough for all of this fabric and there are areas that clearly were not touched by the dye at all

At this point, JEGs and I have decided to "live with it" for a little bit (read:  I am tired of dealing with it).  We have a brand new white slip cover waiting in the wings, but my stubborn side won't admit defeat yet.  Oh no no, I will not raise the white slipcover flag.  Not yet.

Misery loves company: have you ever tried to dye something that didn't come out the way you thought?

Always & Forever,
  ME