eight is great

On our eighth wedding anniversary (today!) I thought I'd take a moment to list eight reasons why I love the husband and am still so glad I said "I do" those many years ago ...

(In no particular order)

1. He is my very best friend.

2. When we were in the early/just friend stages of our relationship, he was able to look past my late-90's fashion choices (Overalls?!  In public?  And I think that's a scrunchie around my wrist ...) and to the beauty that was beneath.

3. Although there are times when he thinks he's way more funny than he actually is, he always knows how to make me laugh.

4. He is an amazing cook ...  And understands that desserts are the way to my heart!

5. He enjoys traveling as much as I do, yet knows how to just take in the scenery and not overdo it.

6. He works hard for our family ...  Both when he is at home, or away at work.

7. He supports me in all of my endeavors, no matter how crazy they may seem.

8. He is partially (50%, to be exact) responsible for these two little cherubs ...

Happy anniversary, Honey!

Here's to eight (plus infinity) more!

dad of the year

After an unexpected week away from this blog (for no real reason other than I just didn't feel like writing much of anything), I'm jumping back in with a quick post for the husband ...

Happy (belated) Father's Day to one of the best dads I know ...

A dad who (even in the midst of an uncooperative three-year-old) makes it look easy and is loved so incredibly much every day of the year!

daddy's girl

It's hard to be annoyed that she only says "Dada" (and not "Mama") when I am witness to sweet moments like this ...

The title of "Daddy's Girl" certainly fits for this little sweetie!

happy birthday, honey

Last year at this time, we were having a romantic birthday dinner in Jamaica.

This year, things were a bit more "typical" as we spent the evening with my family and our wonderful children ...

But, no matter where we are or who we are with, I am so lucky to call this man my husband.

a difference of opinion

Every now and then my husband have the same discussion.

He thinks that I am "sharing too much" on this blog and it makes him nervous.

I think that my blogging habit is fine just the way it is ...

I try to assure him that I am careful.

I'm not posting any naked photos of our kids (as cute as their little butts may be), and, for him, I don't post videos.

I'm vague in regards to where we live.

I don't openly share our last name.

Besides, how many readers do I really have?

This blog is more for me (just another way to document what's happening in our household) than anyone else.  I like to take notes, keep track of everything ...  It's the scientist in me, I think.

As an avid blog reader, I tell him that I've personally read lots of blogs (with much, MUCH larger followings) where so much more is shared ...  And those authors (and their families) seem to be okay. 

Or else they wouldn't be doing it, right?

Yet, I can understand his concern ...  And I like when his papa bear instinct comes out.

He's a bit less internet-savvy than I am.  He definitely doesn't read blogs (he doesn't even read this one!), so he doesn't have the same perspective as I do.  He definitely doesn't get it.

So, I put it out there to any other bloggers that happen to be reading here ... 

What do your spouses/significant others think of your blogging habit?  Do they approve?  If, like my husband, they have a difference of opinion, what is your compromise?

snuggly book worm

On most nights, Pearl is fed and put to bed with little fanfare ...  I hate to say that she is "second fiddle" around these parts, but Malcolm's bedtime routine has been well-established and so he often gets priority.

But, sometimes, when Malcolm is spending the night at "Pa-Ma's House" or when he has simply been put to bed earlier than usual (on the rare day he does not get his afternoon nap), the evening is a bit less hectic and so it revolves around Pearl.

She gets time to stretch out in the middle of the living room (without fear of being stomped on).

She gets to "play" with her big brother's things (without having them ripped from her grasp).

And, she gets her very own story time with Dad ...

Fleece sleeper: Carter's (thrifted for $1.00)

As she gets bigger, I anticipate beginning a collective family (or maybe just Dad and kids) story time before bed ...  But, for now, the rare one-on-one time between father and daughter melts my stony heart (and obviously brings out the camera).

getting a lift

Hikes in the Cleveland Metroparks are easy when Dad is around ...

(At least for the five minutes he agrees to carry you!)

getting along swimmingly

We spent the entirety of last week at the family cottage in Conneaut Lake, Pennsylvania, so I have lots of lake-related pictures (and even a few stories) that I wanted to share.

To kick things off, here is this week's "fashion post."

I guess I should just confess that most of our waking hours at that lake are spent wearing swimwear ...  Nothing quite says "summer vacation" like the absence of regular clothes (for kids and adults alike)!

Swim shirt: Old Navy (gift)

Swim trunks: Old Navy (gift)

Sandals: Disney (hand-me-down)

But when the weather is sunny and warm, and boat rides are plentiful, it doesn't make sense to wear anything else!

seven years and counting

Our marriage is many things (in no particular order) ...

Loving.

Supportive.

Fun.

Humorous.

Exciting.

Comfortable.

Easygoing.

Collaborative.

Blessed.

But it's not itchy.

Definitely not itchy.

helping hand

As I've mentioned before, Malcolm is always eager to lend a helping hand in and around the house.

Just the other evening, I was sitting in the living room with Pearl (who is now an expert at rolling over from back to front!), and he came flying in through the back door, grabbed his little plastic hammer, and then burst back outside. 

Intrigued and curious to see what he was getting into, I went to the window to peek into the back yard and this is what I saw:

Apparently, my husband was pounding some loose nails back into our fence and Malcolm wanted in on the action, too.

He is becoming such a little boy that I can hardly stand it.

boom

I'm a little late with this post that features photos from the Fourth of July, but that doesn't make the sentiment any less true ...

This summer has truly been wonderful so far.

While some days are full of activities, and some are lazy and uneventful, I am finding myself falling deeper and deeper in love ...

With my husband.

With my children.

With the ultimate job that is motherhood.

With this season of our lives.

Right now, there is nothing better than my little family of four ... 

Even though it is still somewhat new to us (Pearl will be four months old in about a week) it feels like we've been this way forever.

And that is a good feeling.

So, like fireworks that light up the night sky, my heart is exploding with happiness and unable to contain all the good it holds inside.

Corny? 

Yes, unbelievably. 

But one hundred percent true nonetheless.

a lesson in babywearing

Are you dad enough?

sous chef

It doesn't matter where he is, or who he is with ...  At two-and-a-half, Malcolm always wants to "help."

So, when my husband takes residence in the kitchen to prepare our family a delicious meal, Malcolm grabs his little stool and is right there along side him.

Long-sleeved tee-shirt: Old Navy (thrifted for $0.50)

Sweatpants: Jumping Beans (thrifted for $1.50)  

Socks: Old Navy (gift)

Using the food processor or coffee bean grinder?

Malcolm wants to push the buttons.

Using dried spices?

Malcolm wants to shake the containers.

Peeling garlic?

Malcolm wants to roll the garlic peeling device.

Need a cookbook?

Malcolm will happily bring it over.

I'm sure he'd also be happy to help cut, or chop, or any of the other cooking tasks that are more appropriate for adults, but, for now, he seems satisfied with a front row seat.

I wonder how old he should be before we really put him to work ...

totally typical

Put these two together and you're bound to see at least a few shenanigans ...


Even on (an otherwise subdued) Easter Sunday!

outside observer

Sometimes I feel like I'm on the outside looking in.

Like they are the founding members of a super-exclusive boys only club.

No girls allowed!

(Not even Moms!)

Long-sleeved tee shirt: Old Navy (thrifted for $1.00)
Fleece pull-over: Baby Gap (thrifted for $1.50)
Jeans: Genuine Kids (thrifted for $1.50)
Socks: Circo ($1.00)
Shoes: Cherokee (thrifted for $1.50)

But the lack of membership is worth it if I can just sit quietly on the sidelines and observe ... Watch them become more than just a father and his two-year-old son.

Watch them become buddies.

geology never tasted so good

Although I was a Biology major and am (currently) a high school Biology teacher, I have always had a soft spot for Geology ...

Geology in the form of edible, Chocolate Lava Cakes, that is!

These decadent desserts, my husband's specialty (and one of the many reasons he was "a keeper"), have been a Valentine's Day staple for me for many years ... So, with Valentine's Day a full week behind us, I am counting down the days until I will get to enjoy them again.

In the meantime, I thought I would share the wealth (and recipe) for any other chocolate lovers out there.

I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do!


You will need:

4 squares of Baker's Semi-Sweet Baking Chocolate
1/2 cup (1 stick) of butter
1 cup powdered sugar
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
6 Tablespoons flour
Vanilla ice-cream to serve

To make the individual cakes:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Butter and flour (3/4 cup sized) custard cups or souffle dishes and place on a baking sheet.

Note: In the years of making these cakes, we have used different dishes of various sizes and shapes. As you will see from the photos, the dishes this year were a bit bigger than the 3/4 cup size the recipe recommends ... I blame it on the pregnancy and my need for the extra calories! If you, too, are pregnant (and/or just want more Lava Cake!), adjust the baking time as needed (ensuring that the centers are still soft, but the edges are done).

Microwave the chocolate and butter in a large microwave safe bowl on HIGH for 1 minute, or until the butter has melted. Stir with a wire whisk until the chocolate is completely melted. Return to the microwave for another 10-30 seconds, if necessary.

Add the sugar and mix well. Then blend in the eggs and egg yolks. Lastly, stir in the flour.

Divide the batter between the custard cups.


Bake individual cakes for 13-14 minutes or until the sides are firm, but the centers are soft and gooey (like "lava," if you will).

They should look a little something like the photo below (dry and cracked along the edges and a bit sunken in the middle):


Let stand for 1 minute, then carefully run a knife around the cake edges to loosen them. Invert onto a dish or into a bowl and top with your favorite vanilla ice-cream.


Enjoy the deliciousness!

lucky in love

Who says a girl has to pick just one Valentine?


These two certainly have a firm grip on my heart ...

old school

Looking quickly at this photo, one might wonder if it is of Malcolm or my husband at Malcolm's age.

The mischievous look in his eye ...

The little smirk ...

The 80's style turtleneck (one of my favorite thrift store finds!) ...

Luckily for everyone, there is photographic evidence of the two of them together to clear up any confusion!

Turtleneck: Sesame Street (thrifted for $0.50)
Corduroy pants: Sonoma (gift)
Socks: Circo (gift)

warm and fuzzy

When we arrived home from church on Sunday, I hustled into the house.

They stayed outside.

There was a lone patch of snow that hadn't melted, but instead had crusted over in a icy shell, mere steps into the backyard grass.

"Ice!" I could hear Malcolm shout as I stood in the warmth of the doorway, watching.

My husband walked over to the white patch and stomped down on it, making a footprint.

Malcolm followed suit.

Lots of little footprints followed.

Little hands picked up frozen chunks and dropped them on the driveway.

Laughter erupted as the ice scattered across the pavement.

Happy dancing ensued.

Running and jumping followed.

My husband made a ball of "ice" and tossed it at Malcolm's chest.

It exploded as it hit his highly padded winter coat.

More laughter.

"More!" He squealed (and signed).

Lather ...

Rinse ...

Repeat ...

As the patch of crunchy snow grew smaller and smaller (until it wasn't there any more), I swear my heart grew bigger and bigger in my chest.

I am so lucky to have these boys.

They are so lucky to have each other.

tiny hiccups

My husband doesn't get hiccups (as in, plural, many, multiples) ...

He gets a single, solitary hiccup.

One and he's done.

That's it.

It's really the strangest thing I have ever seen ... I don't know anyone else who shares his hidden talent. In fact, in our over twelve years of being together (and spending most of our time with each other), I have never witnessed him deal with an unending set of hiccups that required any home remedies to squelch.

"Hold your breath! No, really hold it ... Push through the hiccups!" He'll coach whenever I end up with them (I'm normal, I get more than one!) ... But how I can really take his advice to heart, when he's never had to use it himself?

All this colorful back story about my husband's odd hiccuping abilities to say that Baby #2 had hiccups the other night and he/she definitely takes after me.

I never felt hiccups while Malcolm was hanging out in my uterus, so the experience was totally new ... And really, really cool.

So that's a baby hiccup!

Every couple seconds I'd feel it ...

A little twitch.

Far too rhythmic and small to be a kick or a voluntary movement.

Definitely a hiccup.

A cute, tiny hiccup.

Too bad the husband was asleep at the time and unable to bestow some of his anti-hiccup wisdom on our soon-to-arrive second child ...

Although I'm sure that there will be plenty of opportunity in the future!

I mean, who doesn't get hiccups (in multiples), besides my husband, of course?