Some weekends we don't make it out of our jammies.
That includes Troy and I.
So, when 3 o'clock snack time rolls around we're extra comfortable.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Oh Lord, this child's hair. Where shall I begin?
Before Charlotte was born we were unsure of a lot of things. One thing we were sure of though, was that we would have a bald baby. I can't explain why really. It's just a feeling I had. And then once that bald itty bitty head finally grew hair it would be blonde. So blonde that if you didn't know better you would think it was just a camera glare in pictures. This I actually based off of a bit more knowing that both Troy and I had the same growing up.
And then she was born...with a full head of hair. RED hair.
Please head any advice I give you based on feelings with a grain of salt.
It's the beautiful shade of red. Like a sunset with all of the reds and oranges and yellows melding together perfectly. It's absolutely perfect. And it suits her.
Underneath the straight red strands that fall gently around her face there are the most precious baby blonde curls. People pay top dollar for these kind of highlights.
I love this hair. I love bathroom mohawks and crazy bedhead hair. I love it all. Even the rare occasion, that it's all tucked nicely into a bow.
But this Debbie Gibson -Conan O'Brian cross courtesy of day after braids might just be my favorite.
I haven't stopped laughing.
'Do courtesy of Miss LaStar at Charlotte's school.
Day after braids
Sunday, June 17, 2012
This is one of my favorite days of the year.
I woke up early - even before Charlotte, gently folded the covers off and tiptoed out of the bedroom.
Making swift movements I worked quietly moving back and forth in the kitchen between stove and refrigerator.
It's only a matter of time before my "help" starts protesting the confines of her crib. And like a perfect alarm clock I hear her only minutes before breakfast is ready.
She helps me put the finishing touches on each plate - eating more blueberries than she adds to the plates - and follows me with little steps as I carry a tray full of food into the bedroom.
She sees Troy and her entire face turns into a smile followed by a very clear "Dada".
Breakfast in bed. Smoked salmon benedict, fresh fruit, and iced coffee.
We had all the makings of a great day: Cuddling, relaxing, playing, grilling, napping.
And we ended the day with a walk a local ice cream parlor. Strawberry with sprinkles. Sticky hands make me happy.
But what makes me even happier. Even more amazed, is the way he is with her. I love these two more than I'll ever be able to explain.
Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. And a very special Happy Dada day to the Mister.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
THIS is why we live in Chicago. The summers.
Glorious, street-fest-laden, hot, humid, outside-dining, s'more's-roasting summers.
In a recent text conversation with a good friend I mentioned that we had spent the morning at the beach.
Good Friend: "Beach?"
Ok, it's a stretch.
I'll admit it's no Florida - the sand is more rocky than sandy, and instead of quiet bliss we hear the hum of traffic off of Lake Shore Drive. And the water? It's cold. Unbearably cold this time of year. By the time it actually gets warmed up Fall is fast approaching leaving a very small window of a warm-weather-warm-water combination. But it's home. And the best part is that we can finish up our Sunday morning pancakes and make a split minute decision to pack up. A short walk later we're in our own personal urban paradise and by noon we're napping in our own beds again.
Sunday, June 10, 2012
The weekend started out in full summer force. Dinner, cocktails and a game of gin rummy on the back patio. Nicole won the game, but I'm thinking I won too - even if it wasn't counted in pairs and books. Great night.
Saturday started out it's glorious self with warm weather and a bit solo Mama time at the salon. An unexpected new 'do later (unplanned bangs - don't ask - see evidence below) I came home to find a very happy little girl and Dad finishing up lunch after a morning of playing in the garden with worms.
Saturday dinner turned into an impromptu picnic. And once the youngest Haigh was tucked in tight the Mr. and I curled up on the couch.
We carried Saturday's spirit into Sunday and after breakfast headed to the beach. Buckets, blankets, and sunscreen defined our an entire quarter of our weekend. In a little game we like to play called "Making Memories" I would say we pretty much dominated.