Better To Enter Heaven Blind Than To See Thy Father-In-Law Use A Snout Pot

"It's good to be me," thinks The Precious as he takes a sip of tea from his new tea boot.

I think I mentioned that Andrew got to take his afternoon tea in a boot while we were visiting his Auntie a few weeks ago. When we got back and I poured it into a regular mug, he wanted to know where his tea boot was. When Auntie got wind of this, she wasted no time ordering him his very own spectacular boot mug. As you can see, it was a big hit. Thank you, Auntie!

While we're on the subject of fun presents, my friend Rachel From The Arctic gave me a gift card to use for a Christmas present for Andrew, wisely noting that the train set she was considering giving him during our visit might be difficult for us to pack. Later, as he and I were shopping for exciting things like kitchen cleaner and toilet paper, we decided to pause at the toy section for fun, where he (who had recently decided all train things - especially Thomas - were fabulous, not just the crossings) became completely mesmerized by the wall of Thomas toys. I remembered the card and noticed that it was the perfect amount to cover the beginners set (probably the same thing Rachel had looked at), so I said, "You know what? Aunt Rachel gave me a special card to buy you a present. Would you like for us to buy this train set?"

Oh my heavens, the look on his face! You'd think he'd been raised in the middle of the jungle and had never been offered a toy before (not so, I assure you). His eyes got huge and his expression very serious as he scooped up the box and marched quickly over to our cart as if thinking to himself, "Mother has clearly gone insane. If I'm super quiet and don't make any sudden movements, I think I might get away with this." He sat in the front of the cart for the rest of our shopping experience, clutching his treasure to his chest. Thank you, Aunt Rachel!

And here's a picture that just makes me happy inside. My boy, first thing in the morning, sitting up on the kitchen counter in his footie wams and bed hair, happily holding a slice of bacon.

And, for posterity, me and my sweet Nibblet at 7 months. I'm only 5 weeks away from the time I had Andrew. Wow. Time is flying.

Sheol St.

Sweet Daddy and Andrew moment peering out the airplane window together. Be still my heart! Yes, we've been on another airplane ... this time, a ski trip to Durango given to the entire Mobley clan by Phil's parents!

I really hope you're all enjoying a mental image of me whipping down some slopes in all my bulbous glory. :-) Fortunately for me and my Nibblet, the closest thing I did was attempt to don a ski bib to take Andrew out to see the incredible piles of snow (I think we got, like, 3 feet just while we were there). Aunt Jessie (Phil's brother's wife) is also expecting ... I think we look pretty hot.

Andrew endured getting dressed up in all his snow gear, eagerly anticipating getting to go outside and "slide."


This was by far the happiest moment outside, just standing here on the back porch. I'm not sure exactly what he'd had in mind (slides like at the park at home, perhaps?), but walking in mounds of snow and sitting in a sled were definitely not on the list.


The only time he wasn't crying was when I was walking through the snow with him on my hip, which was challenging for me (deep snow, big belly), Jessie couldn't do it (also with the belly), and poor Nannie tore her ACL right before the trip (which totally stunk since she loves to ski), so her trying to walk around in the snow with a brace on her leg and a 2-year-old on her hip made me nervous. In the end, when I just couldn't carry him anymore, I had to plop him on the rejected sled and pull him screaming back to the house.

Oddly enough, we decided to spend the rest of our time there indoors, peering out the window at the incredible scenery and waving at the people going by on the ski lift that practically went through our living room. The house was huge and beautiful and came with many new captivating sink pipes and a Foosball table, which thrilled Andrew to bits.

And the skiers had an incredible time! Phil even went down a couple of black diamonds, the mad man. I'm really glad he didn't die.


Our dear Melvina wouldn't hear of being left out of this adventure. She pouted up a storm when she found out they were out of her ski size, but then we introduced her to Johan, the elk head on our wall, and she cheered up. (Don't worry, Carrothead, it was a strictly platonic relationship.)


After the big skiing extravaganza, we drove back to Nannie and Papa's condo in New Mexico where they watched Andrew for 2 days while Phil and I had a romantic get-away in Taos.

Melvina was supposed to stay behind to give our injured Nannie a hand, but once she heard the rumor that the rich and famous frequent Taos, she stowed away in our bag and made a pitiful attempt to camouflage herself in a vase of roses. (My favorite part of this picture is my disembodied camera hand eerily floating in the mirror.)


Despite Ms. Porkbag's intrusion, we had wonderful time! Andrew thoroughly enjoyed basking in all of his grandparents' attention while Phil and I slept in, strolled though beautiful shops, tried on fantastically expensive fur-lined boots and hats just because we could, and enjoyed the wonder of eating meals uninterrupted by spilled milk and the slicing of chicken nuggets.


The sights around the town were incredible - when I'm rich and famous, I'm totally going back.


The only bummer was that I was rejected by a pirate. Yes. Moi. Rejected. By a pirate.

We stayed at the LaFonda hotel (LaFawnda is the best thing that ever happened to me), and our package included dinner at the fancy schmacy restaurant downstairs. We had a beautiful table up on this little raised platform and were served by a somewhat snooty waiter with OCD (who, I confess, always made sure we had the proper forks and lined them up just so). The other's on the platform were waited upon by a guy with really awesome dreadlocks and a goatee. Oh, he was so piratey. I had a crush. Phil made sure to point out that I was probably 10 years older than he was, but he made up for it by running up to our room to retrieve my camera. When I asked our server if I could get a picture with The Pirate, he was so confused, which in turn baffled me. "The Pirate," I repeated in a loud whisper, not able to process his confusion. Phil then stepped in and explained to whom I was referring, which did at least bring a small smile to the face of Mr. Snoot.

Soon after that, I noticed my pirate began serving his tables over the platform rail whenever possible (as opposed to walking up the stairs right by our table), and under no circumstances would he look in our direction. I totally freaked him out! Snoot came back moments later to inform me that my pirate was too busy to take a picture. Too busy with his 3 tables. Rejected.

It was all worth it the next day, though. Phil and I were walking through a little toy store when one of the ladies working there asked if, by chance, we'd eaten at the restaurant in The LaFonda the night before. Turns out she was also a server there and was dying to know if Carlos ever took the picture with me. Apparently the whole kitchen was taking bets on it. Awesome!!!

All-in-all it was quite an adventure. Thank you, Nannie and Papa for loving us so much!! We're all praying for an amazingly quick recovery from yesterday's knee surgery, Nannie.



P.S. Just in case you thought setting up Melvina's photo shoots was easy ....

Don't Mess With Me, Porkchop

That's right, woodchuck-chuckers - it's GROUNDHOG DAY! This is my darling husband's favorite holiday. He is utterly obsessed with the movie (he's probably watching it right now on his Ipod thing under the table during an important business meeting) and he eagerly anticipates this day of celebration every year. I'm still not clear on exactly what it is he's celebrating - The movie? Groundhogs in general? Silly weather predictions? - but it's a big deal. So I've decided to honor Phil on his most special day with a post all about him and a few of the reasons I love him so much. Plus, he's on yet another business trip (DC? NYC? Where are you today, Honey?) and so he can't stop me.

1. In the morning, Phil dresses in his sleek business suit, gets into his fancy businessman car with his laptop and Blackberry and Starbucks membership card ... and this, containing his lunch of frozen Stoffer's pizza and grapes:


2. He loves his cat. She's mean as the dickens and leaves hairballs and smells all over the house, and he will sit and lovingly brush her until she tries to tear his arm off. I'm pretty sure I've heard him call her "his little princess."

3. Watch this and prepare to be impressed:

4. I think he's the most honest person in existence. I never have to worry that he's hiding something from me or leading a double life with Barbie and their 12 illegitimate children somewhere.

In case you doubt me, I'll share a conversation I had with him yesterday. We had just gotten in the car after a birthday party where I saw a friend who's also pregnant with her second and who's due date is mere days from mine. She's beautiful and petite and always looks like she's just stepped out of a magazine shoot. I've been feeling really gigantic lately and wondered if, just perhaps, it was my imagination.

Me: So do you think I'm bigger than Jane?

Phil: (giving me the most incredulous look imaginable) YES, you're bigger than Jane.

Me: Oh, I just thought maybe we were the same size.

Phil: (snort!) Well, you thought erroneously.

... then, as if stating this made everything totally fine ...

Some women just gain more weight during their pregnancies than others.

Thanks, babe. *

5. He bought a beautiful new diaper bag for me for Christmas, and now this catalog gets sent to him at his office.

(I don't know why my computer is suddenly bolding things, but I can't make it stop.)


6. Because of him, I have the cutest child imaginable.


7. This is probably because he is really, really ridiculously good looking.


8. And he was an adorable toddler himself.

9. He uses words like "bicks" and "whambones" in everyday conversation like it's normal.

10. He picked me!


* For the record, I thought this conversation was hilarious. What guy responds this way? He clearly didn't read the manual. Please don't take this as a plea for everyone to post comments about how I'm not really all that big, etc. I know I'm sizable. I have moments self-consciousness (especially when I get a look at the parts of me not actually housing a baby), but then I remind myself that this is just how I grow people, and it's totally worth it.