The DD

I have a theory about being pregnant and those around me drinking. My theory is this: I obviously can’t drink, so why wouldn’t I be the designated driver? And why wouldn’t I be the DD for as many friends as possible? Really, just because I can’t enjoy many many many glasses of wine, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t and have someone to drive you home safely and mostly for free.

I say mostly not because I would charge people for my taxi services – I learned my lesson charging for driving servicse one night in college. My parent’s asked me if I would drive them and their friends to and from dinner. I agreed, but for a price. And because my mother is far more devious than I am,  they made me wear a chauffeur hat, all sat in the back seats and instructed me to “not turn around”. Major backfire.

I wouldn’t volunteer to drive and then collect actual dollar bills…I say mostly because I do expect reciprocity. And I do keep track. If I drive a group of friends to dinner as the DD, in about 5-6 months, I will be calling them to go to dinner and I will expect them to drive, no questions asked.

PW gets the worst of it. And this time around he’s much more aware of his tab. With Baylor, my sobriety lasted a little longer than the standard gestation of a baby for breast feeding, severe sleep deprivation and because it took awhile to get back into my skinny jeans and my drinking shoes (who’s a lightweight? me!). Therefore his tenure as non negotiable designated driver lasted close to a year. Which is why this time, he is keeping a much closer eye on his tally.

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Love and Cooking

To me, cooking is love. Making a meal for your family is an expression of how much you care for them. So this Valentine’s day, we’re doing dinner in. I’m making of PW’s favorite dinners: marinated flank steak, sauteed mushrooms, twice baked potatoes and cookies that B helps make. I’m hungry just writing it!

See my post on Scottsdale Moms Blog today for the recipes: http://scottsdalemomsblog.com/

And do me a favor and pretend that we are making Valentine’s cookies and not Christmas cookies in Baylor’s pic – k? Sometime’s there’s just not enough time and or cold medicine in a week to stage a holiday appropriate pic!

(Almost) ManCave

PW dreams of the day when we will own a home that has enough space for him to have his own office where he can hang whatever dead animal on the wall that he wants, watch ESPN all the time and smoke cigars. Until then, he’ll have to make due with his newest creation; the outdoor TV:

I bought this armoire at a neighbor’s yard sale like 3 years ago. I had no idea what I was going to do with it, but I knew I had to have it. I envisioned it on the patio full of pots of succulents – the pots never materialized, but three years in the elements gave it an awesome finish.

The finished product looks a little rough, but it wasn’t quite finished when I snapped this pic. I’m planning to put some pots around it to add a little greenery – right now you stare at the gas main and the grill (which PW thinks is AWESOME, because what man doesn’t like staring at his grill?). But unlike the succulents, a pot with a vine trailing over the side of the armoire is GOING TO HAPPEN.

I have to say, it is pretty cool. Peter also got to show off his manly man skills by removing the two shelves from the cabinet, sanding the inside to make the paint a little more even and then reusing the shelves to make a box to set the TV on. To say he is thrilled with his creation is an understatement. If it hadn’t started raining Sunday afternoon, he would probably still be out there. I think it’s greatness has yet to be realized but it’s coming during March Maddness. A little sun tan, a little beer and no waiting for a table at a sports bar? Priceless.

Happy Anniversary

Six years ago today, PW and I said “I do”. Peter surprised me with my favorite flowers, Stargazer lilies to mark the occasion. Because Baylor’s birthday, my birthday, father’s day AND our anniversary fall in the same month, flowers are the only gift I want and that we can afford! My bouquet was one big bunch of lilies so a kitchen full of them is a scented and wonderful reminder of what an amazing day it was. Happy anniversary!

One of my favorites

My favorite part about this picture is the conversation that was happening went something like this:

“Are we DONE with pictures yet??”

“Almost. And if you don’t smile and look like you’re having a good time, it will take longer”

Yummy candy buffet

The Phis, showing off their best moves

This picture needs little description. But I think it’s important to point out how Chrissy on left has just had champagne dumped on her as Amy dove for the bouquet. Also Katya is making a run for the flowers as Melissa kicks it away from both of them. Those girls mean business.

House Happenings

There’s always something amusing going on at our house. I’ve never really figured out if it’s actually funny, or if we’re so deprived of quality time outside of each other that we just think we’re funny.

Peter and I love to hike. It’s a little more tedious now with the muchkin since one of us has to carry her in the backpack – which totals around 40 pounds, thus making uphill hiking a bit challenging. But Peter has found a great trail with little elevation change which makes for an enjoyable and manageable workout. A few weeks ago we had returned from our outing and I asked Peter (he would say I yelled this at him, but really, he exaggerates) to take off his boots before coming in the house. I am both the energy and cleanliness nazi. When he wants to vacuum and mop (quick Peter! Where do we keep the mop??), he can track in as much dirt as he wants.

About 10 minutes later, I was in the kitchen and noted Peter walking with his boots on, in the back door, across the living room and out the front door. After stepping outside, he proceeded to take off his boots. The following the conversation that ensued:

“Did you just walk across the house with your boots on in order to take them off outside a different door?”

Silence.

“What’s the right answer here?”

Aaaannnd that’s why he’s a good lawyer.