Having a Baby is JUST SO MUCH FUN.

And I'm not even being sarcastic!

It really is. I mean, our days were awesome before, but they are just filled with So Much More Joy now. And laughter! Oh, the laughter. It's fun, guys.

I was drafting a post about the politics of motherhood, then one about my experience with breastfeeding, then one about my efforts towards minimalism (with photos!) then I stopped and realized I was in no mood to be introspective or even a little bit serious.

Plus, I was gone the whole weekend and I have work tomorrow and I have about a bajillion design projects going on (woo!) - so I'm spending the evening cooking for the week and starting level three instead. (LEVEL THREE AHHHHHH.) (Jillian Michaels tells me those abs don't come for free, you know.) (But I don't have two-thirds of Anita's abs, yet, and I'm not holding my breath for them to emerge in the next ten days.) (The chocolate chips and Chipotle probably aren't helping.)

Instead, I decided to share some of my goofball child in action: 

"Gabe never blinks!"

"He does when I clap my hands. See?"

Blinky McBlinkerson. from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

(Does this count as torture?)

And also, WHAT A CRAZY BABY:

Crazy Gabe from Ashley Marie on Vimeo.

(Why, yes, he did face-plant. And then proceeded to do so over and over again.)

He's a little goofball.

My little goofball.

:)

On Working at a High School.

In the four years since graduating college, I’ve worked at an afterschool center/elementary school, a university, and two different high schools (aaand Starbucks for three months). The upside to this is that I’ve had a wide variety of work place experiences and job descriptions. Variety is the spice of life and all that. Most importantly, I’ve learned some things about myself and my job preferences. Things like:

-          I need sunshine in my workplace.

-          I can’t be on a computer all day. Human interaction is a must.

-          I need my job to challenge me, but also allow for plenty of laughter and downtime.

-          I need to work somewhere that my values are honored and upheld.

-          I absolutely love working at a high school.  LOVE.

When I was applying to my first job at a high school two years ago, they asked me if I liked working with teenagers. The truth was: I wasn’t sure. My only experience with high schoolers was being one and having younger siblings (who currently 16- and 18-years-old).  Sometimes teenage girls can be rather…intense (see also: dramatic, moody, and stompy-offish). In course of answering the question about working teenagers, though, I realized that what I loved most about teenagers was, in fact, this intensity. When they’re happy, they’re REALLY happy – shrieking, laughing, singing, and loud. When they’re upset, they’re REALLY upset – crying, yelling, and slamming doors. They are absolutely, unabashedly passionate in everything they do. They don’t hold back. They are full of life.

That vibrancy absolutely attracts me to working with teenagers. It can be tiring, but it’s also never, ever boring. There is so much joy and laughter in my office that I cannot fathom working in some quiet cubicle.

Plus, they’re just plain fun and silly.

They make up songs about me (with things like "She has the spirit Aslan" and "She likes to eat tofu and Indian noodles with her poodle.”)

They introduced me to the addiction that is Rebecca Black.

They have honest and open conversations about everything in life – from their fears about college to their political opinions to their relationships. We close ourselves off as adults, not openly discussing these things as readily.

They celebrated Justin Beiber’s birthday with a party.

They constantly try to friend me on Facebook, despite the school’s (and my own) policy of waiting until they graduate.

They call me “Ash” or “Miss Ashley.”

The many, many offers to babysit. For free. One even told me she’d pay me to babysit. Just lovely.

They tell me about their addiction to Extreme Couponing and that they want to start a 'Couponing Club' where we'd all sit around cutting out coupons. “We have to train ourselves. We need to be disciplined about this. We have to be extreme!”

They know the words to Spice Girls’ songs and can recite lines from 10 Things I Hate About You. Aka: I don’t feel old when they’re into the things I was in high school. (My favorite ever in the world is when they are jealous that I’ve been to three *Nsync concerts. Ha! See? I am cool! I am hip! I am  also so old that these kids weren’t even in elementary school when *Nsync was together!) (Also, *Nsync is not a recognized dictionary word. Psh.)

They make me feel interesting. They ask me about college, living overseas, having a baby, cloth diapers, vegetarianism, marriage, and my family.

They say things like, “My boyfriend is really interested in water birth. He wants me to have our kids without pain medication.” I’m sorry, what? 1) Your boyfriend is thinking about birth? and 2) ‘Your’ kids? You guys are 17!

It’s been a good (albeit hard for some really sad, tragic reasons) week at school, and I’m just buzzing from the happiness that comes with enjoying your day job (and the happiness that comes from having to be at said day job only three days a week).

I don’t say this enough: I am so, so lucky to have both a part-time day job and a part-time creative job that I adore. Not to mention being a full-time mama to the sweetest baby on this planet.

I’m curious: what do you do? Do you love your job? If not, what makes you stay there?

Scenes from a Quiet Weekend.

. . .

I hear Gabe stirring, but ignore him because I am so tired that I'm certain my eyelids are too heavy to open.
I hear Mike talk to him, and Gabe lets out a delighted squeal. 
Mike gets out of bed; he comes back and he talks to Gabe as he changes his diaper. Gabe responds happily with gurgles and giggles.
I bury my head deeper in my wonderful, soft pillow, hoping to avoid waking completely. Trying to cling on to this lovely, sleepy place.

. . .

I set Gabe down on the carpet in the living room to pour myself some Cheerios and a cup of coffee in kitchen.
I take two steps and he is whining.
I groan, but then catch myself and remember how quickly he will grow out of this stage. How quickly he will no longer be a little baby who wants nothing more than to be held by his mama.
I scoop him up and plop him on my hip. I get my breakfast one-handed.

. . .

Gabe sits on the carpet while I work.
His toys bore him, or more likely, he's thrown them all out of his reach.
He whines, so I turn around and make some silly faces.
He smiles.
I turn back around and continue working.
He whines.
A game of peekaboo commences.

. . .


 

. . .

We sit in Gabe's quiet, dark room. The ocean waves are crashing on his sound machine.
I nurse Gabe, then rock him, cradling his little body close to mine.
He buries his head in my arm and relaxes.
We rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
I play Words with Friends on my iPod while the seahorse plays its lullabies.
I remind myself to recharge the seahorse's batteries. It sounds like a dying cat, but Gabe doesn't seem to notice. His eyes are closed and his long eyelashes kiss his round cheeks.
I place Gabe in his crib and sneak out of his room.

. . .

I design. And design. And design some more.
I return client emails. I find new color combinations. I download some brushes for inspiration.
"I've been so productive today!" I say.
"I so have not!" he says.

. . . 

Mike and I have a date with Jillian Michaels.
He makes me laugh while we do jumping jacks, crunches, and push ups.
He kicks my butt, literally, during butt kicks. How predictable.
We give each other a sweaty high-five for completing day eight of the 30 Day Shred.

. . .

 

. . . 

The afternoon is amazing.
The weather is so delicious I want to eat it with a spoon.
I want to stay outside forever.
I want to marry spring and have its babies.
Instead, we walk. And walk. And walk.
And walk some more.
We talk about our summer. About our hopes. About our summer goals. About where we want to go and what we want to read. About sno-cones and street fairs.
"What's your summer mission statement?"
Surprisingly, he doesn't laugh at the question.
He must know he's married a dork.

. . .


Gabe is awake from a nap, crying.
I walk into his room and he stops crying when he hears my voice.
His face lights up and I lift him out of his crib, squeezing him close to me.
I kiss his tiny little lips, my favorite.
Even two hours away from me makes me miss him.
It's so silly and, yet, so true.

. . .

We make taco bowls for lunch.  
Gabe eats a grain of rice at a time, or the tiniest forkful of refried beans.
He leans forward with an open mouth like a baby bird.

. . .

 . . .

He sits on the couch next to me and wraps his arms around me.
I hug him back and rest my head on his shoulder.
Gabe looks at us and start whining.
"Aw, Gabe. Do you want a hug, too?"
We go over together, each pick him up by one arm and carry him back to the couch.
We hug. All three of us. Corny and silly and lovely.
Gabe whines again and twists away.

. . .

He's fussing.
"Milk? You want milk? Are you hungry?"
He nurses lazily, rubbing his feet together, running his hand up and down my arm.
I can't tell if he's hungry or just wants to cuddle.
I always indulge him.

. . .

We get take out from a restaurant in our neighborhood. Veggie burgers and sweet potato fries.
After Gabe is asleep, we eat our dinner on the couch with lots ketchup and watch a movie on Netflix.
I type away on my laptop and Mike reads the news on his.

. . . 

. . .

I realize my quiet life is rather wonderful and don't want to forget this.

I Love...

The way cream swirls and disperses when it's poured into coffee. The sugary crumbs at the end of a box of cereal. Sneaking bits of freshly baked cookies...and cookie dough. The smell of coffee as it's grinding. Throwing handfuls of chocolate chips in everything from oatmeal to hot cocoa. The caramelly color of freshly pulled espresso shots.  Freshly toasted almonds. The first sip of coffee in the morning. Pretzel buns. Tofu cooked so well it's crunchy.

Gabe's first smiles in the morning, those "YAY! It's you guys again!" smiles. The dimples in his knees. His gummy, friendly smile. The way sometimes all he needs is to be picked up and hugged. His little bellows when he's upset. His pudgy little wrists. The way he grabs me with both hands when he's nursing. The way the older women in our building fawn over him. The dimple in his chin when he's crying. Eyelashes so long they brush my cheek when I'm holding him. How his little body gets limp as I'm rocking him to sleep. The way he stops in the middle of eating to glance up at me and grin. How words fail me when I think about how much I adore my baby.

Sunrises on the beach. Slipping into my yoga pants as soon as I walk in the door. Waking up before the rest of the world. Taking my contacts out the end of the day. Etsy sales. Cuddling in bed with my baby. Sitting cross-legged in sweatpants, huddled under a fleece blanket, playing Mario Party with my sisters in my parents' basement. Heartfelt comments on my blog posts. Curling my hair with my straightening iron. Emails from old friends. Mascaraed eyelashes. Songs that make my heart soar, like this one. Watching the snow fall quietly, beautifully in the morning.

Love notes in the morning. Coming home to a clean apartment. A scruffy beard after a relaxed weekend at home. Waiting for him to come home at the end of a long day. Catching up on our shows while we eat dinner on the couch. Working out together while Gabe plays happily on the floor of the exercise room. Hoodies with the hoods pulled up. Bear hugs. Lazy mornings spent drinking coffee. When he climbs into bed and says, "I read your blog today." The way he laughs when I try to swear. Forehead kisses. Tea, popcorn, and documentaries. Passionate conversations about Important Issues and the World. Our quiet, cozy life.

Three Months.

The Discovery of the Hands.

He:

- has discovered his hands and love how delicious they apparently taste. 

- is more relaxed and talkative at home than when we're out. Could he already know the difference?

- has started grabbing things, including his bottom while we're changing his diaper. I never expected to say, "Stop grabbing your butt!" to a three-month-old. 

- kicks his legs and arches his back excitedly when he hears my voice or is laughing at something Mike is doing.

- laughs daily and is generally still a happy little bear.

- is over 14 pounds and nearly 25 inches long.

- has outgrown most of his 0-3 months clothes.

- continues to make us popular. Not many people can resist a cute baby.

- has a slightly lumpy head, since he prefers to keep his head turned to the right.

- has recently began showing interest in board books, much to my delight. He has a touch and feel book, and laughs when he touches the ostrich's feathers. Last night, he was fussing and crying, but when I took him over to the recliner next to the Christmas tree and read My First Christmas by Tomie dePaola, he quieted and looked intently at the pages. I so hope he loves to read someday!

- stares intently at the TV (well, Mike's computer, really), while we watch television shows. I don't intend to let him watch TV for quite some time; surely this doesn't count, right? 

- still prefers to sleep swaddled, but often wakes up with one or both hands near his face. Little ninja!

I:

- am down to 6 lbs to lose. Whee! Slowly but surely....

- have returned to work (part-time) so am pumping a few times a week. Nursing is going well, and I get so appreciative of how far we come when I think about how difficult learning how to nurse was for both of us. Trying to keep him awake, the intense pain, the tears, the worry that I was doing it wrong...I'm so glad the internet was there to tell me that it's totally normal for it to be difficult. And now? It's totally awesome. 

- got a new cell phone, so I've been texting Mike and my family (and Twitter...) pictures of him constantly. Is it possible to be too enamored with one's own child?

- sometimes shove Gabe's hands in his mouth, encouraging him to learn to self-soothe. What? He just needs some help, sometimes. 

- still have not set a bedtime for him. I'm resisting it, since it makes our life much more inflexible. Selfish? Perhaps. But happy parents make for a happy baby, right?

- love the look that crosses his face as he listens to my voice and realizes it's me. Who else but a baby would make you feel that special?

- am starting to think we might buy him a few toys for him to play with. The world is so new to him, that everything from the Christmas tree lights to my hair to the striped pillow on the couch is worth exploring and playing with, but I'm considering getting him a few age-appropriate (he has toys for when he's older already) toys for his first Christmas. (We were going to forgo it since he's not really old enough to understand...and we buy him what he needs. But, perhaps he'll get a toy or two...)

- have started reading non-baby related books for the first time in....ages. I just finished The Help, and was delighted to settle into the familiar and cozy state of getting lost in a book. My next book will be The Time Traveller's Wife. I've been wanting to read the book for years. It's nice to have some non-baby thoughts go through my head on a regular basis. 

- cannot imagine being more content with my life. Truly. Usually, there is some nagging voice in my head that lists all the things I could change about my life, but I am just...happy. It's weird and I'm tempted to tiptoe around and whisper about how very happy I am, for fear of waking up from a dream.

- am already anxious about him growing up and losing my baby. Really, Ashley? He's not even 100 days old.

- feel like I'm sleeping through the night, since we're both half-asleep when he eats a night. It's terribly convenient to have him next to me all night. And on that note...

- decided that I am not going to concern myself too much with what 'they' say I should be doing, but instead, do what is best for us and our family. Gabe and I are both happy and well-rested, so if it ain't broke, I'm not going to try and 'fix' it. (Plus, I enjoy having him close all day and night.)

Here are some glimpses into Gabe's budding little personality...

Happy baby.

Crooked bebe toes.

Knuckle-sucker.

Lil' smile...

...big smile!

Gaining more head and neck control! 

Round faced little 3-month-old.

Caught in the act. "What? Iz good!"

Chubby little wrists.

Warning: Lots of Gushing Ahead.

It's better than I ever thought it could be.

I could write a million words about how much we love our little Gabriel, how unexpectedly wonderful life is with a newborn baby, how in love we are with his little toes, his kissable lips, his big eyes, and how sweet his snuggles are.

I can't imagine being happier or more content than I am right now.

I'm normally level-headed and reasonable and not one to gush, but there is just something about becoming a mom that is amazing. I honestly didn't expect to get so charmed by this little person.

I don't even care if I smell like milk and am in desperate need of a shower (despite taking more showers now than I did before having a baby). And most of my clothes (and our bedsheets) are covered in pee, spit up, or milk. Our life is little and simple - I spend my days changing diapers and doing laundry and cooing at the baby and cleaning the apartment and feeding Gabe and stealing naps with him. It's wonderfully low-key and exciting all at once. It's like part of me I didn't know I had has been missing, and now, he's here.

I am happy to say that Mike and I are a great pair. We don't often get annoyed or lose our patience with Gabriel, but when we do - we just trade off. Mike is an amazing father. I love to watch him dote on Gabriel - telling him how cute he is, how much he loves him... It's adorable. I was afraid the opposite would be true, but we seem to be growing even closer as a couple by taking care of this awesome little guy.

So, I guess you could say things are going really well.  The whole sleep thing isn't too bad - I'm about as tired as I was in my last month of pregnancy. Instead of waking up in the middle of night, unable to fall back asleep and staring into the dark - I get to stare in my little boy's eyes as he nurses. It's so much better.
 

Our little boy is growing before our very eyes. At his first doctor's appointment - he'd grown an inch and gained nearly a pound in just six days. We're get a hang of the nursing thing (hooray!). I love being able to comfort my sweet little boy by feeding him. Not to mention the awesome hormones that come when you're breastfeeding (and the calories burned. Woo!) 

I am almost back to normal. I've been doing some moderate exercising and feel so much better than I did a week ago. It's amazing how quickly the body is able to heal from something as intense as childbirth!

Our first walk as a family. Mike is totally rocking the Moby wrap, right?

Before We're Never Alone AGAIN.

In the midst of finding an apartment, signing a lease, packing, moving, unpacking, and trying to wrap our minds around the fact that a baby might just be living here in eight short weeks -  Mike and I have been enjoying spending nearly every waking minute together. 

No, I'm serious.

Mike is done with school (and therefore, work) for the summer, and I only work two days a week. Before leaving our old neighborhood, we ate at all our favorite restaurants and bakeries, went on a walk nearly every evening, and enjoyed plenty of bike/runs (Mike runs, I bike - it works because I'm slow and he's fast).  Anxiety over the whole baby thing sometimes pops up - namely: childbirth, taking care of a screaming infant without going crazy, paying for said screaming infant. You know, the usual. But for the most part, we've been relishing our last summer as just the two of us. (So glad went on our big road trip last summer!)

It's luxurious, really. 

This Saturday night, we had our first date night in our new neighborhood.

Choosing to ignore the fact that we're far from finished unpacking and making our new apartment home...

(PS: Any tips on making a white-walled apartment more homey? Bleh.)

...I attempted to look nice for our date.

We walked to a nearby park, where we had ourselves a little picnic under the trees:

Food is important, of course. We had cous cous with roasted squash, zucchini, carrots, and beets. (Beets are amazing, by the way. Buy some from the farmer's market and roast them. You will LOVE. Promise.)

Ears of corn, buttered and salted, naturally:

And some watermelon, which is basically all I eat now:

I brought along some juice - orange juice mixed with organic mango-peach nectar.  I threw a few frozen strawberries in to keep it cold. YUM.

We sat in the shade, talking about our summer, planning a trip to Ikea, and wondering together what life with a baby will be like. We talked about the past, about high school and grade school, and Mike told me the sweet story of when he first asked a girl out in fourth grade (it involved a mood ring and tears).

 (I love the reflection of the park in his sunglasses, for some reason. Love.)

We left the park and walked to a seriously adorable ice cream shop, where we split a maple walnut ice cream cone:

I am obsessed with all things maple - so I was in heaven. Mike said it tasted like pancakes-with-syrup ice cream.

We walked just down the street to a sweet little old movie theater. It has one screen and plenty of seats, with a concession stand in the same room as the screen:

We saw Toy Story 3, which was clever, witty, and one of the best sequels I've ever seen. I adored Toy Story - I've probably seen it 100 times, since my little brother insisted on watching it DAILY when he was three years old. This movie did not disappoint. Go see it.

After the movie, we walked home and went up the the roof of our apartment to watch fireworks. From the ninth stories above the city, we could see a dozen different firework shows. It was magical,  romantic, and the perfect end our date.

Sometimes, it's nice to take a break from our usual evenings of DVD movies, dinner on the balcony, and time on our computers to go on an actual date. To share stories and food and laughter and kisses. I am so thankful we have the time to spend these days together. 

Spilling the Beans.

Well, my friends - the time has come.

It's obvious I'm pregnant.

(And not just because my chest is bigger. Which was a coworker's response when I shared that I was pregnant. Which was sort of creepy but mostly awesome.) 

Check it-

I just came back from a lovely three-day retreat with the high school girls. I never would have guessed it, but there is NOTHING that makes high school girls happier than squealing about engagements, husbands, marriage, and babies. Seriously. You should see their faces when they ask me questions like, "How did he propose?" "Was is fun being in college and planning a wedding?" and "How did you tell your husband you were pregnant?". One of them even declared with a sigh, "I can't *wait* to get older!"

She's a senior getting ready to go to the best college ever (my alma mater. not biased) and I assured her to that college is going to be wonderful - that she shouldn't wish away her life (don't we all need to be reminded that?). It's sort of adorable and makes me feel kind of awesome, though.

So, how did I let the students know? Well, I didn't exactly have a say in the matter...

One of the girls asked my friend and fellow teacher if I was pregnant during lunch yesterday.

"No. Why?" she replied.

"Well, it looks like she might have a little baby bump," the student said with a smile.

"I have a little belly," my friend pointed to her stomach, "does that mean I'm pregnant?"

"No, no! You're not fat at all!" the student reassured her, obviously embarrassed.

My friend came over and relayed the story to me. Within earshot of the student. Suddenly, ALL the students in the area were staring at me, smiling. They started pelting me with name suggestions, all their own names, of course. "Kelly Ann is a beautiful name!" "Nicole Ashley is a great name!" and asking me questions about how far along I was and if I knew the gender (most popular question to ask a pregnant woman EVER. For real).

The news spread quickly around the retreat, and suddenly 70 girls knew I was pregnant. They were coming up to me, telling me how they suspected something, since "You're so tiny, you wouldn't just be fat." and how girls I didn't even know were speculating about my expanding waistline. They were excited and adorable and it was the best possible way I can imagine sharing this news with students.

This also means it's only a matter of time until the rest of school finds out. I'm four months pregnant and I'm excited for others to know, but still a bit hesitant about the attention I'm sure I'll receive. It's not that I don't LOVE the experience of being pregnant, and will be relieved that others will finally know - I'm just not comfortable with people paying lots of attention to me. (Says the girl with the blog.) Plus, having a secret is more fun than I expected it to be. 

In other Fun News, I had my first complete stranger congratulate me today - which I definitely did not expect at a mere 17 weeks. During Mass today, the woman next to asked as if it was our first. I smiled and nodded.

This is getting more and more real, and decisions are getting closer and closer to being made. I am hopeful about our future - and excited for this little peanut (eh, onion) to grow. It's amazing how you can adjust your life in just a few short months. I didn't expect to become a mother by the end of the summer, but I am quickly growing accustomed to, and even excited about, this new development.

I know we've all had times in our lives when things didn't go according to plan - and now is my turn for a Pretty Big Thing. And I think it might be awesome.

Lesson Learned.

Lesson Learned: the right light in IMPORTANT. As is cropping the photo if the other half of your hair is frizzy. :)

• Do NOT Google "15-week-old fetus." I think the images of miscarried babies is burned in my brain. Yikes.

• Going without dairy is way, way more difficult than going without meat. I gave it up for Lent (which has caused some of my coworkers to be up in arms over the obvious lack of ALL! NUTRIENTS! for my poor little baby), which has been slightly inconvenient. I will never be vegan, though I will continue avoid most eggs and dairy, cheese and yogurt are important for me. I only eat them a few times a week, anyhow.

• March in Cleveland CAN be beautiful. Although I'm putting off getting a car wash, because the last time I did that? It snowed two days later.

• Keeping my pregnancy under the radar from my coworkers is starting to get more tricky as my waistline expands. I'm currently still in that "maybe she's always had a bit of a belly and I've never noticed" stage, but in a few more weeks? I think it will be a different story. (I'm hesitant to share with the whole school - all the attention. And all the questions about future plans when Mike and I still haven't figured things out. *shudder*)

• I have about 50 bajillion photos on my computer - many of which I took to share on my blog with a recipe or story. 49 bajillion of those photos have never been edited or shared. I'm awesome at taking lots of photos, I'm terrible at sharing them. Anyone still want to hear about when I made some Baked Sweet Onion Dip? Because I have photos of how to make it.

• We got our first baby clothes gifts (and my first nursing pads. Thanks, Mom. Hehe.) and I practically died when I saw them. Imagining a little baby in those sweet onesies and tiny cardigan (!!) was enough to make me all squishy inside.

• Growing up with the most perfect family ever doesn't mean they'll be perfect when you're a grown up.

• A cute vintage pillowcase makes an awesome spring skirt (directions). Though, the elastic may be a bit too snug for my belly.

• Those things you hear about pregnant ladies getting all weepy? It's true. I sobbed through half of a Freaks and Geeks episode. (Poor Bill...so lonely...)

• I have tons of awesome friends in this area. Making an effort to see them is ALWAYS worth it.

• Even when we're faced with something incredibly unexpected and life changing - Mike and I are able to work together to figure things out. I dread the huge decisions we'll be making about where to live, how much I should work, and how to get health insurance...but I know we will make it work.

• Having a job where you feel successful, valued, and like you're contributing to something meaningful is rare and invaluable. I am so lucky.

• When I see sweet, cuddly little babies now, I still get baby fever. But more in a "oh my gosh, I'll get to have one of those sweet cuddly things this year!" way. It's sort of awesome. And crazy.

And in January, We're Gettin' Married.

Heck yes, table 10!

When I heard he was getting married in January. In New York. In upstate New York, I was a bit less than enthusiastic.

A wedding in the dead cold of winter? I pretty much want to hibernate and wear sweatpants all winter long - let alone drive over five hours through snow to wear a dress in more snow.

January? Really? Hmm. Well, then.

It ended up being the most rejuvenating weekend imaginable. A weekend filled with delightfully warm(er) weather, laughter, dancing (oh! the dancing!), good food, and wonderful people. The kind of people who warm your soul with their sincerity, kindness, and a bubbling sort of love. It also reaffirmed for the 50 bajilionth time that nearly everyone who graduates from Dayton is down-to-earth and fabulous in an indescribable way.

I tickled a one-year-old and witnessed his first swimming pool experience, I took too many photos, I ate the most amazing Italian food, I enjoyed being with countless vegetarians ("When two vegetarians get married, it's the most exciting thing ever, because they're all, 'Yes! We're going to have entire meal consist of foods we can actually eat!'"), and I basked in the embrace of a weekend brimming with love.

There is something special about weddings - aside from all the stress over the silly little details (colors! flowers! center pieces!), the delight of the bride and groom in their new marriage, the reminders about what marriage is all about during the ceremony, and the presence of so many family and friends always seems to inspire my commitment to be a better wife to Mike. (It didn't hurt that Mike was playing guitar during the wedding and his musical abilities would make anyone want to be a better wife to him. Seriously.)

Weddings are magical.

Especially in January. (The four day weekend? May have helped.)

(A sucker for all things wedding? Check out the slideshow from the wedding. And be prepared for the song to make you want to get married in January, too.)

My Favorite Day is Today.

Today has been glorious.

I woke up this morning at eight o'clock. It always makes me happy to wake up early on the weekends, because I feel like I'm making the most of out my little two days off. I cleaned for an hour before Mike woke up (Cleaning with no one else awake in the house is a treat. Yes, I am slightly crazy.)

We went to brunch at the adorable Vine & Bean Cafe (our visit was documented here). It's a restaurant in a house - you feel like you're visiting a friend with the cozy dining room and fireplace. A darling 10-year-old boy greeted us and showed us to our table. I have this problem where I can't resist talking to kids if I'm around them. (Last weekend, I got into a discussion with a 3-year-old at Target in the check out line. I'm telling you, it's serious.)

Me: "What a bummer! They make you work on Saturday?"
Him: "I know! Doesn't it stink?"
Me: "I'm sure you'd rather be watching cartoons or something."
Him: "...Actually, I like working because then I can earn money and buy stuff for people."
Me: "You are adorable. Will you be my adopted son?"
Him: "You're freaking me out, lady. Can I get you guys some water?"

Okay, so maybe that last bit didn't actually happen. But I did make sure to give him his tip personally. And tried not to tuck him in my pocket.

I ordered a mimosa and a giant cup of coffee, which made my waitress want to be friends with me. Then I enjoyed the best brunch ever: curried tofu, potatoes, veggies, and buttered toast. Sounds simple, tastes insanely delicious.

During breakfast, I got a call from my aunt that she, my uncle, and their three boys were at a toy store around the corner. The kind of toy store that is filled with the most fabulous toys you've ever seen. The kind of toy store that makes you want to pop out a child just so you have an excuse to buy this, this, or this.

We bought a few presents for Mike's nieces and nephews. This is the first year in our marriage that we've been earning a decent salary, which means we can afford to splurge a teensy bit and get real Christmas gifts! Hurrah!

Seeing my squishy faced 2-year-old cousin and his 5-and-6-year-old brothers (Me: "Do you remember who I am!? It's been forever!" 5-year-old: "Yes! You're Ashley!" Me: Melting.) was equally wonderful. May I say again how much I adore being near my family? Adore.

After stopping by the library to return some things, get a new novel, and pay my fine, we're now at a deliciously cozy local coffee shop, drinking mochas (hazelnut mocha for me, thank you) and I'm about to email some clients about freelance design projects and work on my final for design class.

Hello, dream day, my name is Ashley.