I'm an auntie. First time EVER.

Way back in May when my brother told me that he was not only getting married this summer but that he'd be a daddy in November, I thought for SURE he was kidding. Not because I didn't want those things for him, but because he told me for years he didn't want kids at all. And Matt's sister doesn't want kids and his brother maybe does but hasn't met a good girl yet, so I had resigned myself to never having any nieces or nephews to spoil and love. 

But then Travis was getting married and having a baby. Well, Krystle was. I cried at their small wedding because he's my baby brother, you know? I was beyond ecstatic the entire time Krystle was pregnant and totally got to give them a baby shower. I bought tons of cute girl outfits and toys, and having her pregnant really helped me get through my miscarriage earlier this year. I figured at least one of us would have a baby, and if it isn't me, that's OK because I could still love this baby too. 

Then as it turned out, I got pregnant again, and I won't lie, I feel like I can't be super excited because I don't want to steal their thunder. They are first time parents and they should be getting showered with cute and adorable baby things, attention, and just tons of support and love. I never wanted to be that annoying sister and sister in law trying to outshine, and I just want to be 100% supportive. 

Because I get it. Being a first time parent is hard. It's not hard when you are surrounded by family who are helping you and making you feel like it's totally OK that your baby is crying because that's what babies do. They get all cute, then they cry. And that's my goal- I just want to be here without being overbearing. 

But dammit if I wasn't on the damn EDGE the day I knew Krystle was being induced. I think I only texted my brother three or four times. I almost did at least 50 but I thought no way- I would drive him crazy. But no joking, when he told my mom and I to come up to the hospital around 4:30 p.m., I got so excited and I was so thrilled and humbled he wanted us there. I totally wanted to be there but no way in hell was I going to ask. We drove there super quickly, we got semi-lost in the hospital and got there thinking it would be any minute and no. No, it wasn't any minute. 

In fact, Adriana wouldn't be born until 6:13 a.m. the next day. And you know what? That was OK. Because having had two kids of my own, I never got to see it from the other side of the bed. And it was a pretty amazing experience for me, especially when I tried to mentally take notes knowing I'd be doing this very same thing again in May. And dammit if Krystle wasn't a damn trooper, because she was. You never know how you'll be in labor until you're there and she did amazing. I can't even tell you how amazing. This girl pushed for five hours. She never gave up, she just did it. And Travis was literally the best coach. So while I'm watching life be brought into this world, and I'm so proud of her, and I'm tearing up because my brother is being an amazing dad already, I look to my mom and she's tearing up because I can't even imagine what's going through her head, and it was just amazing. I see Krystle's mom tearing up, and her dad is just being a great coach too, and honestly? I don't think a baby could possibly be brought into a room full of any more love. I really don't. And she was just the sweetest little thing. 

But shortly after she was born, mom and I left. We had all been up for well over 24 hours, we were all exhausted, but I figured I'd come back to snuggle Adriana the next day and let the new mom and dad get their wits about them. 

Me and my niece, Adriana, one day old. 

Can I just tell you that holding that baby for two hours made my uterus hurt? I had cramping, I felt movement, I think Baby Strand was jealous. I told Matt as we were leaving that if I wasn't already pregnant, I would have been the next day because if holding an adorable baby doesn't give you baby fever, you are dead inside. Plus, she clearly smiled at me. She clearly loves me. 

But they've been busy. Adriana is a week old now and I got to see her before Travis and Krystle went back home. I hope to see them before Christmas. Maybe I can sneak a weekend down there to get a baby fix and let them go on a lunch date or something. 

Visiting Auntie Sara

Matt took this picture. Can I just say she has a perfect baby butt? Totally fits in the palm of your hand. 

 She woke up as they were leaving, after she had been fed and changed (I got to change a diaper! It was kind of adorable.) so I had to get this picture of her eyes open. Such an adorable baby. After they left, Matt said he was worried I wouldn't hand her over, ha! But I did because Krystle is a natural mom and Travis is totally smitten with his little girl. I have no doubt they will do a great job. I can't wait to see her grow up and do great things.

Garden themed baby shower? Check.

Oh yes, I have completely forgotten to tell you about the baby shower I threw my brother and sister in law! I had been teasing it, but then I forgot to post pictures and stuff.

Whoops!

But never fear, I have pictures and details here.

Travis and Krystle are expecting their first little girl towards the end of November, and this  might be my only shot at being an auntie and I could not be any more excited! I offered to throw a shower early on and I love girly showers, and was thrilled she wanted to do a garden theme. Right away I knew I was going to host it at the Fairlawn Mansion in our town. It's a gorgeous mansion, and I had my wedding rehearsal dinner there and it's just really gorgeous. I can't say that enough. Totally beautiful space. Anyways. So the details:

Each table had a floral centerpiece (that I made), and a frame (I painted) and a cute girl related quote. 

I always love making a diaper cake, but I didn't want hers to be the typical baby stuff. Instead of regular ribbon, I used a burlap ribbon  that had a doily overlay on it, then accented the cake with flowers and greenery. I figured if nothing else, it would be cute in the nursery, at least until you need diapers at 2 a.m.!

 For favors I had little tea lights in organza bags with a quote telling you to light the candle and say a prayer for a safe delivery. It was kind of cute, and as soon as I stumbled across that, it felt perfect.

We didn't do a typical meal, we did sweet treats. So I made chocolate cupcakes with pink cream cheese buttercream frosting, lemon bars, and chocolate truffles. My mom brought a super good fruit tray, chocolate dipped strawberries and these cute pink cookies.

I always forget how much I hate frosting things until the minute I start and it's like, "Oh yes, I remember- I hate doing this."

 This was the little sign for the food table in a cute vase of flowers.

Oh yes, and my ugly thrift store mirror turned chalkboard sign? Turned out adorable. We're actually going to thank Matt for this because though I painted the frame pink, he did the chalkboard part one day when I wasn't home. Nice surprise! But Krystle and Travis have that so someday their little girl can color on it.

And because I am terrible at remembering to take pictures, I have not one of the couple looking at the camera. Seriously. But here's a cute one of them opening gifts. They got so many cute things. Travis looked excited, she looked gorgeous, and it was a nice way to spend an afternoon. So now we just wait for baby to arrive. I call dibs on babysitting!

So, not a totally terrible week.

I have SO many things to share with you since I've learned how to get my pictures off of my phone and onto my computer. All by myself, I'm going to just add in here. I want to call Matt and work and show off my skills but I don't think he'd be happy. He mentioned having to climb into machines today so probably wouldn't appreciate me calling for something dumb. Dumb, but totally awesome. So here's what my week has been like: 

The kids have been sucking up as of late. I plan to fully enjoy this since I hate unloading the dishwasher. So I woke up one morning to find this. Don't worry, Daddy doesn't know where they go either and he's a grown up. 

I went to a book signing for Brian Benson. Who, like I've mentioned to probably 317 people this week, is amazing, humble, gracious, and handsome. Seriously. And let me just fan girl it a minute, because Olivia and I? Oh yes, we're mentioned in his Huff Post blog about his bike book tour. I know. It's a big deal and Olivia said she really wishes that I'd carry a recent photo of her because we could have given it to him and her picture could have been featured. But you can read the article HERE. And if you have not ordered his book yet, Going Somewhere: A Bicycle Journey Across America, you need to right now. I'm going to finish it up on my long ass drive to South Dakota next week, but I already told Matt for my birthday I want a bike. He said OK. I'm kind of terrified, but more excited because I really do want to ride across at least two states someday. I may as well get some practice in now. 

I did the Glow Run with my friend Andrea. It ended up being a ton of fun even though we walked it. Gorgeous night in Duluth and we saw the Super Moon after we turned around. Which honestly, wasn't that impressive? I was expecting more, I guess. I did not do the Color Run the next morning. I actually woke up around 4 to get ready but realized I had a migraine and a head cold from hell. No way was I going to rally. So I'm really disappointed because it turned out a lot of people I knew ran it and they all had perfect weather and looked amazing. *sigh* I am signed up for the Color Run in LaCrosse in September, so there's that. It's not a total Color Run bust this year. 

My little brother got married. And even though I knew it was happening, I was just really emotional about it. Thankfully, I kept my tears to a minimum and I didn't embarrass them by having to blow my nose. But it was just a small affair at the courthouse because their lives are BUSY, but it was kind of amazing. Their vows were lovely, the ceremony reading was lovely, and my new sister in law looked beautiful. But she wasn't going to have flowers since this was all kind of last minute, but I couldn't let that happen. So Travis gave me the scoop that she was wearing a purple dress so I called our local florist, Engwalls, who were able to whip up this bridal bouquet literally last minute. And it matched her dress perfectly. But the best part is that I am going to be an auntie and they are having a little girl. Seriously- Wednesday was maybe the best day that I have had in a long time. I'm so excited for them. So you can assume I'm busy planning her baby shower and I really need the distraction, so this is just perfect. 

I got my hair cut and colored. Which, normally not a big deal? But I only get my hair cut maybe twice a  year because honestly, I can't afford it. It's an expense that is the first to go when I'm cutting things from the budget. Everyone else gets a hair cut and I put mine off until it's really just too much of a mess to handle. But my hair is really thick and naturally wavy, so once it gets to the point where I can't get a comb through it, it's time to go. So this was my before picture. 

And after. Well, day after. It takes forever to straighten my hair but I much prefer it to the wavy. But I got highlights and an inch cut off and I promised my hair lady I would be back sometime in October. But this was me on my brother's wedding day so I tried extra hard to make it look nice. 

Well, that was my week. Next week I'm working a bunch before our trip but I have posts set to go for while I'm gone, and of course, I'll be checking in as much as I can. I'll be on email and Facebook as well because sadly, the world keeps trucking along even when I'm on vacation. Which is totally crazy. 

The Jello Incident.

Last night's post was pretty heavy and so tonight I want to shake it up and tell you about The Jello Incident. I hesitate in telling this story because if my mom ever reads it, my brother and I may get into trouble. But it's worth it because it was hilarious and we are idiots. But this year my Grandma made my kids the Jello Easter eggs and the story all came back to me.

It all started one Easter... several years ago. I mean, it was a long time ago.. maybe even 15 years ago. Holy cow. I'm old.

Anyways.

One Easter our Grandma made us these Jello molded eggs. Like these:

You see the big ones to the left? Well.. for whatever reason, Travis and I each took one and went upstairs with them. The upstairs to my mom's house used to be an attic but people renovated it and there were three rooms: mine, my brothers and the neutral territory room in the middle we called the play room. Well, the stairs to go upstairs has a weird ledge on one side but the ceiling is HIGH. I mean.. really high. So high that in order to paint it you have to have scaffolding set up on the stairs. So.. you get how high this is.

Anyways. So we each have this blob of an egg and we decided that it would be a good idea to throw them around like balls. Now, I'm like... 14 or so and Travis was around 12. Again, we were idiots. Travis threw an egg too high for me to catch and the sucker flew up and hit the wall... really high up.

And it got stuck.

I'll be honest- we panicked. Not only did we hear our mom scream "Knock it the fuck off up there" but we knew if she came upstairs and saw the egg stuck on the wall.. she'd be pissed. So we decided we had to get it down and never speak of it.

Logically, we found a yardstick and with careful maneuvering we knocked the egg down onto the stairs. Which was gross. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to clean Jello off of carpeted stairs without using a vacuum.

When I looked up I realized we had a bigger problem. The Jello egg stained the wall. Folks- that wall had a huge, I'm talking baseball sized reddish colored stain of Jello on it. We were going to die unless we could clean it.

Again, we put our genius brains together and devised a plan. We would take the Christmas shaped Avon soaps we got from Grandma at Christmas (which were never used but the boxes were still on our dressers), somehow attach it to the yard stick. We ended up using a ton of masking tape. Then we figured... the soap has to be wet in order to properly clean, so we got a soaking wet washcloth and secured that on top of the soap, which was taped to the yard stick. The whole thing seemed completely flawless.

I sent Travis back on the ledge (because he's taller than me) and made him scrub.

Unfortunately...

we failed to take into consideration that the soap itself was red and hey... the box clearly states the soap is supposed to turn the bath water colors.

Fucking FAIL.

We were now working with a stain the size of a honeydew melon on the wall.

Fortunately, our parents never came upstairs often so our mess went undiscovered for years. It was always this joke Travis and I shared because we knew if our mom knew what we did she'd be pissed.

Fast forward to a year or two ago and Mom moves her bedroom upstairs. I happened to get there right after all the heavy lifting was done and my mom says something to me about the stain, and did I know how it got there?

I told her it had been there since we moved in. I completely lied to my mom, but most importantly, she bought it.  I immediately had to call Travis and tell him and he of course laughed hysterically. And agreed that continuing to lie was probably our best option.

So this year when my Grandma brought Jello eggs for the kids I made DAMN SURE they ate them in the dining room under close supervision.

Sorry about the wall, mom.

The Bike Incident

If you don't know about Another David, you need to go to his blog right now. He's so much smarter than I likely ever will be plus he rides bicycles and goes for insane 20 mile rides. How he doesn't permanently have a bike seat glued to his ass- I don't know. But he's fab and I love him to bits. AND if we ever meet up he's promised me an evening filled with midgets and debauchery.

Who doesn't need a friend like that?

Anyways. So I remember commenting on his blog somewhere about what I refer to as "The Bike Incident" which is what makes me leery to own a bike even though I know I would, for the most part, like it.

The story begins when I was around 12. This is me at like age 10. Apparently I wasn't cute enough to get pictures taken of me at age 12 or something. But you'll see I was still a hot bitch rocking my black spandex cropped leggins with the lace trim, the matching black/white shirt WITH a hot pink sweatshirt. While hiking in Jay Cooke State Park. In sandals.

Yo betta recognize.

Anyways. So most kids get bikes for Christmas and that's fine because they can actually ride their bikes on Christmas. For us it's kind of a great gift but torture because you know it's another 6 months before you can go out and really have fun with it. Bikes aren't super conducive to snow. Well when I was 10, my brother was 10, our parents got us mountain bikes. Not real ones, but we thought they were. All I knew was mine was white with pink and green paint splotches with black accents. It was the fucking hotness. It had gears and 10 speeds and hand brakes and yeah. It was the most bad ass bike I had ever had.

Fast forward to the spring and my dad decided he was going to teach us how to properly ride a bike. Now, I had bikes in the past and knew how to ride it. I mean, I wasn't a toddler here. But I apparently didn't know enough to not break this bike and my dad didn't want to see $100 go down the toilet. He was adamant about bike care and how we should use the kick stand and not just throw it on the ground, etc. He wanted us to take pride in our new vehicles.

So one afternoon dad comes home with this jalopy of bike he got from god knows where and he was going to take us out to what we called "The Gully" by our house. The Gully was basically an old logging road for trucks, unpaved but well worn and wide that would take you straight to the St. Louis River which is what the paper mill sits on. We had played back there and we knew that there were other trails we just didn't know we were allowed to go that far into the woods. Well, that wasn't mostly me because I was the chicken shit when I was younger and Travis probably was back there all the time lighting fires and such.

Anyways- so we get on our bikes and I figure I'm good to go. We are riding along this trail which was kind of high up. To our right was a bunch of woods and to the left was a drop off with train tracks at the bottom. We went as far as we could on our trail before realizing we had to turn around or ride down this drop off hill and ride along the train tracks.

At that moment, Travis screwed up his brakes. My dad stopped to help him and looked at me, told me to "take 'er easy" down the hill. I'm SURE he said "down the hill" which to me, means ride your bike down the hill. I see a path that is worn into the hill which obviously means it's safe because bikes have been down it. So I start out on this little path.

Approximately 2 seconds into said ride down the little path I hear my dad yell my name, and then I see it. A barrel. Half sticking out of the ground that you couldn't see from the top. Obviously, I panic and hit the barrel.

I then go airborne, do two complete somersaults in the air, at which point I separated from my bike, hit the ground, roll down the hill, land on the railroad tracks. It felt like 10 minutes that I laid there when it really only could have been a second when my bike came down. And landed on top of me.

I pretty much started crying and thought I was going to die. But here comes my brother and Dad, taking their leisurely fucking time around the path, not the way I went, and asked me if I was ok. I remember my dad telling me to get up because I had to ride the bike home and him asking me several times if the bike was ok.

Nice.

At some point I was hobbling along and it felt like I had blood running down my leg. My dad told me that I had to take my pants off to see if I had gotten hurt. So there I am, age 12, half naked next to some railroad tracks, crying, and the biggest bruise I have ever seen developing in my left inner thigh. This thing was the size of a dinner plate and was the inner thigh and part of the front and back. Black as night. And puffy. It was getting more and more puffy and it hurt like a som'of'a'bitch.

I had to walk home like that because riding the bike was not going to happen. My mom laughed. Travis teased me. My dad said I needed more lessons.

I rode my bike again, on flat roads only, for a few more years. And every once in awhile, I see them go on sale and I think I'd like to buy one and take the kids out. But then I think oy...I don't want to be that loser parent that rides bikes with their kids. Those kids always got beat up.