Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Easter Highs and Formatting Lows

We had a lovely Easter this year.  Audrey and I spent the morning with our old neighbors, The Blums, who hosted an amazing brunch followed by Easter egg hunt.  A few photo highlights:

Behold!  the Egg!


Covet!  the Egg!



Escape!  from Mother!

Beware!  the Look!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

34 Weeks, But Who's Counting?

I celebrated entering week 34 of pregnancy by feeling all first trimester icky again.  I've managed to play it pretty cool about my whole impending life change, but maybe my anxieties are catching up with me in the form of morning sickness.  Case in point: here's my to-do list for the next five weeks:

1.  Finish the semester. 

2.  Finish my third chapter.

3.  Close on a house.

4.  Move into the house.

5.  Birth baby. 

Somebody asked me the other day whether I had packed my suitcase yet.  And I thought to myself, do we even have a suitcase?  And if so, where could it be?  Our good friends just birthed their super-healthy big ole baby almost three weeks early, so maybe I should get that suitcase out and packed.  And maybe that will ease some anxiety and take care of my tummy troubles.  In the meantime, today I went the old-fashioned route and ate soup for breakfast.  Audrey quickly realized that she, too, needed soup, limited spoon skills be damned!

Audrey took a bath shortly thereafter.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Happy Easter!

I hate this chair, but Alex had to have it.  We certainly didn't need an extra chair, he certainly never sits in it, and it is most certainly made of brown pleather.  This last week, in what must surely be a genetic predisposition, Audrey has taken a shine to the garage sale monstrosity.

Relaxin' in pajamas.

Having her afternoon snack.

And enjoying her Easter goldfish in her Easter finest.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

A Mother's Prayer . . .

I love Tina Fey.  Reprinted without permission.

A Mother’s Prayer for Its Child By Tina Fey

Tina Fey Hard At Work
First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,”she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
-Tina Fey

Sunday, April 10, 2011

This last week my youngest sister, Olivia, came out to visit the Millers.  Liv was incredibly patient with all of our Miller weirdness.  We spent a lot of time scouring the Connecticut coast for possible houses, while Liv entertained Audrey and diplomatically sided with me on the houses I liked best.  Saturday, after no tears and barely any tantrums, Alex and I finally agreed on a lovely cape in Milford, and us Sterud girls were then able to spend the rest of the afternoon relaxin' in the sun.

Alex and Audrey got some bike time in.

Then Mom, Auntie, and Audrey got some stoop time in.

For those of you interested, here is a link to our new place (fingers crossed all inspections go well):

I wonder if our new place will have a keg in the backyard like our current place does . . .