Today.....

I slept in......went running.....saw John Mayer walking down the street in Soho......did NOT scream "your body is a wonderland!"......went shopping......received a marriage proposal.....did NOT accept said proposal.....consumed one delicious red velvet cupcake, approximately 95 cheese straws from Dean and Deluca, and about 1000 extra calories.....ate a hot dog from a street vendor.....and am about to go have Italian food for the 3rd time in 2 days. 

Did I mention that I'm in NYC?

Attention burglars--I have a housesitter.  And a huge dog.  Who will not hesitate to bite you.  And a sniper tower (in my mind).  And nothing valuable.  The end.

Daddy

Dear blog-readers,

Ally Grace here.  What?  You didn't think I could type?  I know, I'm pretty advanced for an 8-month old.

So, yesterday I asked mommy if I could get on here and wish my daddy a Happy Father's Day.  She said something about how we had to wait until today, or else everyone would be too shocked that we managed to write a timely Father's Day post.  (What does "timely" mean, anyway?  My mommy said she didn't know.)

Anyway, I REALLY love my dad.  He's the most fun! Not only does he tickle me and make me squeal, sometimes he even let's me ride around on his shoulders.  Then, I'm taller than him AND mommy! 

He also loves to sing to me.  The other day, he was singing me a bunch of oldies.  (Mommy says that he IS 32, so that's kind of appropriate.)  I especially love it when he sings that song, Miss Grace.  (By the way, do you know what "satin and perfume and lace" means?  I wish I knew more words.  But at least I know how to type, right?)

I love you, daddy.  As evidenced by the way I call everything "dadadadada."  (I do that just for you.)

Happy (belated) Father's Day!

(Nearly) 30, Flirty, and Covered in Baby Barf.

Dear blog-reader,

I have now been projectile vomited on FIVE times in about 3 days.  And by "on" I mean "soaked."  I just thought someone should know.  In light of this fact, I have decided that I will mentally go to my happy place and blog about my current wish list. 

(Notice how being covered in baby vomit is not on there.)

(Also notice that in about 2 months, I will turn THIRTY.  Which I have decided can definitely be considered late-twenties.  I've also been trying to convince John that in honor of this horrendous momentous event, he should turn the month of August into Thirty Days of Sherri.  He's not really on board with that yet.)

But just in case he decides to be, I'm coincidentally and not at all purposefully posting a wish list of some things that I think would make ideal options for birthday gifts.

Did you hear that, John?  Ideal.  Ahem.

1.  How adorable is this Stella & Dot necklace?  I am fairly certain it wants to live on my neck.


2. If ever there was a piece of clothing that I felt was taken right out of my mind and placed in a store, it's this Free People shirt. 

3. I do believe these Frye boots need no explanation.  I've wanted these for about 5 years now, but haven't been entirely sure that they would A) fit around my huge man-calves, and B) drop out of the sky into my closet, because Lord knows, they are nowhere even remotely close to the budget.

However.  I am almost 30 and I can dream.

4. This may possibly be the most perfect jacket on the planet.  I am in love with all things lululemon,and would be thrilled to find it in my vicinity on or near August 18th. 

5. Um, yes.  It's been over a year since we moved into our house and no, we STILL do not have our dining room chairs.  I need two of these and two of these to finish the set.  I should also mention that I find it very difficult to include something that I NEED on a WISH list.  I'm not exactly the person that wants to give someone the vacuum cleaner that they've "really been needing" for their birthday.

But I may or may not live with that person.  Dining room chairs, here we come.

And we can now change the baby vomit tally to 6. 

Lovely.

Thursday Afternoon Mash-up (a.k.a Things You Weren't Dying to Know, But Hey, It's My Blog and I Can Do What I Want)

A few things: 

Number One:  John called me on Tuesday afternoon to inform me that he had just broken his foot during his daily lunchtime basketball game.  After checking the date to be sure it wasn't April Fools Day all over again, I informed him that I didn't think basketball was supposed to be quite so contact-oriented.  I'm pretty sure these boys have adapted it from normal person basketball, into some form of tackle, let's beat each other up, kind of basketball.

And by the way, this broken foot is only the latest from the boy with the craziest injuries on the planet.  Case in point:  Memorial Day weekend 2006, he's taking out the trash, and a piece of broken glass SLICES THROUGH HIS CALF MUSCLE.  We end up in the emergency room, he ends up with staples in his leg, and I end up with a very unhappy husband who can't participate in any lake-time fun.

(I also end up with a super gross image of his calf ingrained into my mind for years to come). 

Or how about December 2006, when he's hanging out with some guys on a work trip, and they decide late night pooltime is in order.  During which John decides to dive into the pool....WITHOUT MAKING SURE IT'S DEEP ENOUGH.  (Guess what?  It wasn't.)  Deep cut on the forehead, possible concussion, and a phone call to his sweet wife at 2am to tell her he's in the emergency room.  After which, sweet wife turns into one very ticked off, you have no idea what you're coming home to, kind of wife. 

Clearly, 2006 was The Year of the Emergency Room at our house.

Number Two:  Is there anything better than a sleepy baby, all snuggled up into your shoulder?  I think not. And this from the girl who was once afraid to even HOLD a baby.  Thank the good Lord for the mothering instinct.  Or else some of us would really be in trouble.

And by "some of us,"  I mean "me."

Number Three:  I'm finally getting around to posting a few more of AG's six-month photos with Kerie.  Now that she's 8 months old.

Because that's just how we roll around here.

Here, give me the camera.  I promise I can handle it.

Classic AG.  Let's see if I can get my toes in my mouth.

(Guess what?  She can.)

Yet another classic.  Fingers=constantly in the mouth.

Nothing has changed in the past 2 months, except practically everything.  Ally Grace has a lot more hair now, looks more like John every day, can sit up on her own, eats lots of baby food, and still taunts me by saying "dadadadadada" constantly. 

What hasn't changed is that she's full-on presh each and every day.  It's only getting more and more fun!

Vacation!

Well, I know you'll all feel appropriately sorry for me when I tell you that for the last week, I was here.....

Clearly, it was rough.

I made it through the flights without too many crazy freakouts, although I did feel the need to constantly ask John if he thought Ally Grace would forget me after 7 days.  I'm sure this wasn't annoying at all. 


(Guess what?  She didn't.)


It does, however, seem that she's gained about ten pounds and is almost as tall as I am now.  Well, not really, but let's all remember my flair for the slightly dramatic.

Since I am Ms. Paranoid Patty, I didn't want to blog about being away for seven days, as I felt that it would be the equivalent of a giant neon sign on my front door that said, HEY BURGLARS, COME STEAL ALL OF OUR STUFF!  IT'S MOSTLY FROM TARGET AND IKEA, BUT NO ONE'S HERE TO STOP YOU.

(As a side note, I would like to tell any potential burglars out there that we are now home, along with our 100lb, ferocious when he needs to be, and did I mention HUGE?, dog.  Plus, our pimped out alarm system that includes a sniper tower on the roof.  Or not.  But that would be really cool, and don't think I haven't asked our alarm company about the possibility.)

So, since I have been MIA for the last week, I'll fill you in on what I've been up to.  List form, get excited!

1.  Lounging poolside in the Bahamas.  Hate me?  Yeah, I would too.

2.  Missing my baby, like, completely out of control, crazy.  I think I had a dream about her every single night I was away.  Plus the requisite guilt that goes along with leaving your baby so that you can do something frivolous and fun.

How do you NOT miss this?

3.  Wearing my hair curly every day.  Yikes.  Sherri's hair+humidity=mega ugly frizz.

4.  Almost missing our flight to the Bahamas.  Having to THROW AWAY every product I had packed because we were too late to check our bags.  Nearly crying as I threw away full bottles of Khiels, La Roche-Posay, and an UNOPENED bottle of (admittedly cheap, but still) sunscreen.  Not to mention the only product that keeps my hair manageable when worn curly (Herbal Essences, Tousle Me Softly.  And, ew. Obviously, I do not buy it for the name.)

5.  Paying approximately 95 dollars for sunscreen down in Eleuthra, due to having thrown mine away in the Atlanta airport security line.

6.  Searching the entire island for approximately 95 hours trying to find any form of a non-frizz spray.  Because did I mention that I had to THROW MINE AWAY at the airport? 

Why, yes.  I believe I did.

7.  Getting "is she for real?" looks when I would pop into little shops to ask for hair products. 

8.  Eventually realizing that since I don't, in fact, have a weave, I was totally out of luck.

9.  Getting completely eaten by these tiny little bugs that I really couldn't identify, but am hoping they didn't carry malaria or anything else scary.

10.  Taking pictures of John while he was sleeping.  I know he'll be so happy that I posted these.  Or not.

I also got this great shot of his armpit hair.  Because I am mature.

11.  Jumping straight into the ocean after a REALLY hot run. 

12.  Bringing home mildewed tennis shoes, because number 11 clearly wasn't very well planned out.

A few other photos from our trip:

How cute is this little mirror set-up?

So, Sherri, what did you think of the Lost finale? 

What?  This isn't posed. 

We totally always kiss while standing in front of beautiful beaches.

Sign at our favorite restaurant, Sherrill's. 

I think it's fairly appropriate for most situations.

Up WAY too early, but managed to catch a very sleepy (and crooked) glimpse of the sunrise. 

Um, I want to go to Camp Bahamas.  Where can I sign up, please?

If I lived here, pretty sure I'd be jumping for joy too. 

Back to the real world.....for now.  Would it be rash to move to the Bahamas for awhile?

Don't answer that.