Babyrama

Lately, I feel like everyone I know has a baby and last weekend, Anthony and I saw all of those people. It was a three-day baby parade but luckily, the kids were adorable and well-behaved; we were able to hold them and play with them and then leave them with their parents. Not a bad deal.

And on top of that, we just found out my sister-in-law is having a girl. Another little lady to add to our crazy family. It's an understatement to say that we're excited for her arrival in October. xo

Meaning

Yesterday when I came across this New York Times article on heirloom wedding rings, I felt my stomach pulse a bit.  My own wedding band is a ring that my grandmother gave to me less than a year before she passed away.  It's one of my most treasured belongings.

The ring wasn't actually my grandmother's originally. It was given to her mother, my great-grandmother, by my great-grandfather on their 25th wedding anniversary.  When they first married, he didn't have money to buy her a ring with a diamond so he wanted to get her a fancier one after all those years.  Eventually, she gave it to my grandmother, one of her four daughters.

I'll admit that I was hesitant to take the ring at first. My grandmother wore this ring every day--as she grew older and her fingers more frail, she even added several layers of tape to the bottom of it so that it fit tighter and she wouldn't worry about losing it. Taking it from her made me feel like I was stealing her favorite possession.  But after several back-and-forths, I agreed and she looked so relieved that I instantaneously felt guilty for not taking it as soon as she offered.

This article definitely focuses more on the money saved when using a family heirloom or vintage ring, but that really wasn't a factor for us. This ring had been loved by people that I loved and who had long, happy marriages;  that's a pretty solid foundation if you ask me.

And now for my favorite part of the ring: it's engraved inside with my great-grandparents' initials and the date that the ring was gifted. It's so tiny that you can barely see it on the rounded surface, and it's  nearly impossible to make out the actual words. My grandmother had worn the ring for years and never noticed the message.  When Anthony and I took the ring to be sized, the goldsmith casually asked, "Do you want to keep the engraving?" We said yes, obviously.

A few of my friends have been judgey about my wedding band choice. They think I should have bought a bigger ring, a fancier ring, or a ring without any history (also referred to as the hideously-named 'virgin rings').  I've never regretted my decision though. Family and marriage are continuums. I'm reminded of that every time I look down at my hand.




Photo credit: New York Times

This Makes Me Totally Want a Dog

I mean, come on. Look at these nom nom legs.

When the Needles Are Gone, It's Time

Tonight we got rid of our Christmas tree. I can't tell if this makes me very festive or extremely lazy.

Our poor tree has done a great job dressing up our apartment but every inch of it is dry and pointy, and it's shedding all over the floor at an alarming rate.  Also, I began to feel like it was a giant needle-covered piece of kindling, which made me worried about turning on the heat. Honestly, it's been in the corner of our living room for three months and I sort of forgot it was there.

So yeah, Christmas is over. Come on, Easter--we're ready for you.

Hearts (and Cars) Afire

Valentine's Day was kind of a bust this year. I don't consider it to be a real 'holiday' so Anthony and I normally just celebrate by giving each other cards and some type of candy from CVS. And not one of those red hearts filled with candy either. I'm talking about a big giant bag of M&Ms.  There isn't a rose in sight at our home.

On Friday morning, my car had a meltdown while I was driving to work. I barely made it to my parking garage, but at night, I decided to fill up with coolant, say a prayer and hightail it to the mechanic, after a brief stop at my grandfather's house.  After several stops on the side of the road, I finally made it there. I've never been so close to having my car catch on fire. Valentine's Day truly filled my heart and my car's engine with flames of love.

By the time Anthony and I met up, it was nearly 9:00pm and we were both starving.  We had a very romantic dinner at the diner, complete with one milkshake and two straws, Lady and the Tramp-style.

After getting my car back on Saturday morning (belts fixed=cool engine, no overheating and no more deafening squealing while driving), Anthony and I went and had a grown-up lunch at Mecha Noodle Bar. We each ordered different phos, which were both great, but the hot chili oil dumplings were so delicious that I seriously could have eaten three thousand of them.

Lesson of the weekend: sometimes rice noodles and car repairs are pure romance. xo

Reason #874 That I Love My Husband

 

Sure, we got stuck in the ice, but how gorgeous is this snowy beach at high tide?

When things go wrong, my husband is never one to point fingers. Instead, he calmly (sometimes too calmly in my opinion) tries to figure out how to alleviate the problem. It only makes me love him more.

On Saturday, he voluntarily came with me to the Paper Source, and I then bought him a cupcake at Crumbs. It was freezing out and I thought it'd be fun to get some hot cocoa to go along with the cupcake for when we got home. The last time we were at Shake Shack, there were signs for their new Dark Chocolate Cocoa (supposedly made with Mast Chocolate!) so that's where Anthony stopped on our way to the highway.

It took FOREVER, not to mention that our order was actually put in wrong.  Our receipt said one 'hot dog' instead of one 'hot chocolate.' Umm, there's a big difference there: one is a tasty drink and the other is compressed processed animal parts.  After that was squared away and we were on the road, I had the brilliant idea of stopping by the beach. I thought the water would be beautiful in this blustery weather.

So yeah, we got stuck in the beach parking lot. The city hadn't really plowed the lot, yada yada, Anthony had to get out and rock the Jeep back and forth until he literally pushed it out of the ice ridges and we could drive away.  I felt horrible about getting us into this predicament and he just smiled and told me not to worry.  He didn't complain once.

Moral of the story: I am not full of great ideas, but I was lucky enough to marry a wonderful, incredibly patient man.


BONUS
Reason #1390 That I Love My Husband: when I asked him how the monstrosity of a pimple on my chin looked, he told me it wasn't bad at all, even thought it looks like a giant crater. He has to love me a lot to lie about such a horrible blemish.

Doggy Bowl

Everyone keeps talking about the commercials that air during the Super Bowl, but we're almost at the end of the game and I still haven't seen anything that compares to the cuteness of this Subaru commercial.

Seriously, how do they get that pup in the car seat? xo