The Day After Tomorrow is Three Days After Vacation Ended

Kaitlyn's vacation, in bite-sized pieces:

Got in Daddy's car at 6:15 p.m. Dropped Boo-Boo off with Pop-Pop. Sang Pokerface. Without the radio. Or Mommy. Or Daddy. Fell asleep in North Carolina at 9:15 p.m. Woke up in South Carolina at 10:30 p.m. Fell asleep in South Carolina at 11:30 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Ate cereal. On patio. Looking at the ocean. In the bright morning sunlight. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Saw beach. Smiled. Helped Daddy dig hole for umbrella. Filled hole back up with sand. Daddy re-dug hole. Played with bucket and yellow shovel. Couldn't find purple shovel. Cried. Found purple shovel. Laughed. Walked to water with Mommy. Ran from water that chased me. Ran back to water. Laughed. Ran to bucket. Ran back to water with bucket. Repeated for next three hours. Left beach. Fell asleep at 1:30 p.m.

Woke up at 5 p.m. Went to dinner. Ordered shrimp. Got shrimp. Don't like shrimp. Ate fries. Asked for ice cream. Cried. Got in car. Cried. Went to stores. Cried. Walked around. Cried. Fed fish. Didn't cry. Walked some more. Cried. Got ice cream. Got in car. Went to room. Got on jammies. Cried. Said prayers. Laid down with Mommy. Talked to Mommy for next thirty minutes. Fell asleep at 11 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Wanted pancakes. Went to get pancakes. Ordered pancakes. Got pancakes. Didn't eat pancakes. Cried. Ate pancakes after Daddy got mad. Went to room. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Again. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Again. Saw beach. Smiled. Again. Played with bucket and yellow shovel. Couldn't find purple shovel. Cried. Found purple shovel. Laughed. Walked to water with Mommy. Ran from water that chased me. Ran back to water. Laughed. Ran to bucket. Ran back to water with bucket.

Wanted the pool. Went with Daddy to pool. Got thrown in air in pool. Went under water. Swallowed water. Twice. Laughed. Wanted the beach. Went back to beach with Daddy. Found Mommy. She was red. Left beach. Went to room. Watched Wonder Pets. Fell asleep at 1:40 p.m.

Woke up at 3:30 p.m. Got dressed. Wanted pizza. Went in car. Ordered pizza. Got pizza. Didn't eat pizza. Cried. Ate pizza after Daddy got mad. Wanted ice cream. Cried. Got back in car. Went to stores. Walked around. Cried. Ate pralines at candy store. Don't know what a praline is. Wanted more pralines. Left candy store. Cried. Walked some more. Cried. Walked into Kohr's. Got ice cream. Watched Mommy cry after paying $3 for children's size. Got in car. Went to other stores. Got Big Jessie. Went back to room. Watched Buzz and Woody. Said prayers. Laid down with Mommy. Talked to Mommy for next forty-five minutes. Fell asleep at 11 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Ate cereal. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Again. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Again. Saw beach. Smiled. Again. Found seashells with Mommy and Daddy. Walked to water. Sat in water with Mommy. Wanted the pool. Said bye bye to beach. Went in pool with Mommy. Said bye bye to pool. Went back to room. Got changed. Packed bags. Packed car. Got in car. Wanted pancakes for lunch. Ordered pancakes. Got pancakes. Didn't eat pancakes. Again. Cried. Ate pancakes after Mommy got mad. Got in car at 1 p.m. Fell asleep after five minutes in car.

Woke up in North Carolina at 3:30 p.m. Got to Pop-Pop's at 5 p.m.. Got chicken for dinner. Ate dinner. Go figure. Got cupcake from YaYa. Ate cupcake. Go figure. Got in car. With Boo-Boo. Got home at 8 p.m. Watched Kai-Lan. Watched Backyardigans. Played. Said prayers. Laid down with Daddy. Fell asleep at 10:30 p.m.

In Pictures: Strange(r) Days Before Motherhood

Michelle always tells me that I missed her in her prime. I don't necessarily know what that means, considering she's pretty good now. Maybe she didn't nag or complain as much back then. Maybe she had friends on the Swedish Bikini Team. I don't know.

While we can't go back in time to relive those days (unless we're John Cusack, which we aren't), we are very fortunate that Michelle loves pictures so much she keeps them. Forever. So instead of just wondering what it might have been like, we can actually see what it might have been like.

And as I write this, I sorta kinda think I should have done this on my last day of NaBloPoMo, since Michelle actual might kill me once she sees this post. Pray for me.

Take note of the leather bomber jacket. 

If you look real closely, you can see the socks bunching around the ankles. That was the style back then, kids.

Nothing screams sexy like floral print sundresses with t-shirts underneath. 

Strange(r)s Among Us, Part III

Dear Kaitlyn,

I know you're all of 26-months old and all, but you're still a genius and therefore I believe you're old enough to read this letter.

You may have noticed Mommy crying in the corner earlier in the evening. I know, I know, but Daddy didn't put this baby in a corner. You see, Mommy's just sad because two of her best friends went home today. You know how sad you get when you can't find Buzz and Woody when you want to go to bed? Well that's how Mommy feels -- times a gazillion.

Mommy and Aunt Laura and Aunt Erin have been friends for a very, very long time, Kaitlyn. I mean, very, very long. They were friends when they were your age. Okay, not quite, but gosh darn close to it. And they still act the way they did when they first met. Which is kind of cute and silly and immature all at the same time.

Mommy and Daddy hope you have your own Aunt Laura and Aunt Erin when you get older, because they have been really good friends to Mommy. Granted, Aunt Laura took Mommy to the Dominican and got her in trouble a couple of times and Aunt Erin has some tendencies, but you get the gist. They're good people.

And you don't know how happy it made Mommy to share her friends with you this weekend. She loved how the girls ooh-ed and ahh-ed over you. She loved how well behaved you were, even though you still won't go to bed at a reasonable hour and keep sneaking out of your room because an imaginary bear that isn't even a bear is stalking you (we'll talk more about that later).

So if you see some sniffles coming out from Mommy over the next day or two, it's not because Daddy's pulling an Ike this week. Mommy's just sad because her best-est friends had to go home. But don't worry; you'll see them sooner than later. At least we hope so.

Home Sweet (Dream) Home ... with an awesome custom bar

To all of you who made it here thanks to MaryMac, I welcome you. Ah, yes, linkjuice tastes so sweet. And just to clarify: my wife doesn't blog -- she just makes smartass comments and tells me what I'm doing wrong oversees production and takes a picture now and then. I hope you enjoy it here and decide to make your way back in the future.

Anywho, loving wifey is working today, which left Kaitlyn in the uneasy trembling capable hands of Daddy. We've already had a busy day, which has included looking at some shiny new homes. No, blogging hasn't made me rich enough to purchase a shiny new home (not to mention we've already got one). It's something I enjoy doing, considering my previous job.

Looking at homes makes me wonder what's going to happen in the years to come. I mean, that nice bonus room above the garage would make a great play area for Kaitlyn and/or more kids (Yikes, did I say that? See what happens when Michelle's not around to oversee my little production) but it would also make a cool poker room. Or maybe a pool table. With a dart board. And custom bar. Oh wait, no bathroom in the bonus room. Nix the bonus room.

Then what about that master bedroom on the first floor? Right now I couldn't think about my 26-month-old upstairs alone. But what about when she's eight? I mean, it won't matter once she becomes a teenager -- she'll be locked in the tower -- but I think I'll want a floor separating us when she's all about yelling at Daddy. At least seeing her stomp up the stairs when I tell her "no" will be entertaining.

And how big of a lot do I need? I mean, I want a yard big enough to put a swing set, but I'm sort of spoiled not having to do yard work. Plus, Michelle has a black thumb -- she can kill a cactus.

I guess for now we'll remain happy in our little townhome. It's a good home -- just one without a shiny new poker room/pool table/dart board/custom bar. Sigh.