authentiCATE

Green Meadows Farm

2012-02-11T15:16:00.002-05:00

We've moved. I like to think it's "out in the country" because I see cows when I drive to the gym. The reality is, we live in suburbia on a golf course but when I squint my eyes, that rolling green looks awful close to the open range. Anyhow, I'm on a country girl kick. I live for cows, tall boots, Randy Travis, and wide open spaces. My mom offered to take Miles and I to a local petting farm called Green Meadows. I was in heaven. Miles liked it too. Here are some pics:

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Parenting

2012-01-26T14:55:00.002-05:00

Before Miles entered the "terrible twos" I went a little cray-cray-turbo-mom and started putting post-it notes all around my house with parenting reminders. Not reminders like "feed that kid - he's yours," more like pre-determined, I've read this in a book somewhere, this is how I want to do it, reminders. Nuggets of wisdom, if you will.

My fridge looked like this:

In case you can't read them, the post-it's read:

"Be gentle with Miles' spirit- never belittle or embarrass him in front of friends. Discipline should be administered away from the gloating eyes of curious onlookers."

"Equally seek out the goodness and waywardness of Miles' heart."

"Don't use heightened emotion to get desired behavior." (And above that scribbled in pen, probably in a moment of desperation, it says, "Toddlerhood is parenting bootcamp!")

"Above all else, guard your heart for it is the well spring of life. Proverbs 4:23"

"Behavior is not the basic issue. The basic issue is always what is going on in the heart."

Other really great ones I had on mirrors, cabinets, etc, were:

"Use action to get action."

"Never discipline out of anger. Take a breather before you discipline if you need it. Then, discipline out of love."

Well, it's been a while & those notes have all fallen down.

Last night, I was recounting an episode from earlier in the day where Miles had disobeyed me and I yelled. Loud. Frustrated. Mean.

Guilt is a murderous thing to a parent.

So, today I searched for my notes. I wanted to write this post mostly as a reminder for me - one that won't fall off the fridge. This season of life is not a surprise - I've known since the day he was born that he'd be 2, with all it's whining & wanting & needing to be shown the way a million times before we even hit lunch.

It's not a surprise that his default is disobedience and willfulness and "I do it my way." It's not a surprise that he forgets what I've said 10 seconds after I've said it. And it's not a surprise that five minutes after he's kissed and made-up with his cousins, he's back at biting/hitting/fighting/toy stealing. He's two. These are the days of boot camp parenting, not perfect kid-being.

Man, this job is hard. But I'm up for the task.

Lord, help me.

If you give a boy a hose...

2011-11-15T15:33:00.001-05:00

"Well, hello there, Uncle Mike. I was just a'fillin' this here swimming pool for ya. I'm helpful like that."

"Uh oh. I think my aim is off."

"Oh no. I'm not watering the plant or filling the pool! Uncle Mike is sure to notice and bring me some back up."

"Not Dempsey!"

"This is my hose, ya mutt!!"

"Ahhhhh!"

The end.

Actually, Mom stepped in and turned off the hose and let the drenched child swim in his newly filled swimming pool and let the poor dog have a drink. And that's how it ended.

The end.

What's in a name

2011-09-03T13:45:00.001-04:00

These days, there are few things I love more than deciphering the words my two year old, Miles says. Here's a list of words he's made up for various things:

1. Mina = Banana

2. Ginga = Sippy Cup

3. Mino = Bob the Tomato (aka "I want to watch Veggie Tales!")

4. Too-ease = Cookies

5. Tease = Keys

6. Supa Guys = any super hero action figure, including but not limited to Superman, Batman, Spiderman, Captain America, Buzz Lightyear, & himself

7. 'Merica = his Captain America action figure he got for his birthday. He regularly walks around the house saying, "Come on, 'Merica!" (my thoughts exactly, son:)

And last but not least,
8. Moat = Remote (but we don't have one of these, I just thought it was funny and kinda awesome)

There are things, however, my son says with PERFECT clarity and also, 135 times a day. This includes but is not limited to:
1. Mommy!!!
2. iPad
3. Daddy
4. Paci
5. Mine!

Some of my favorites pics from summer

2011-08-23T14:38:00.001-04:00

It's hitting the end of August, kids (not mine) are back in school, Fall is a distant ache in the hearts of us Florida folks, but the "summer" is closing up shop - at least in our minds (the temperature outside won't agree with us until Novemeber.) Here are some good shots we grabbed this Summa':

A family pic!

Always smootchin' , this one.

Or throwin' things...

Joe caught this light early in the morning while on vacay in BlueRidge, GA

Miles learned there are still consequences on "Baycation" as he calls it. Also caught on camera by my Canadian Bacon, Joseph Chandler Loveless (who's country of origin is Oh Canada!)

Picture turned painting, anyone? I usually don't like this Photoshop filter but here it suits me just fine.

A good G'daddy usually has at least 2 G'babies hanging on him at all times.

Joe says if we had the Canon 5D or 7D, the blurry to in focus contrast in this pic would be better. I told him we are not professional photographers so the picture is just fine.

Here is Joe showing us how they fish in Canada - so he claims. I think not.

Action shot of my BIL, Action Jonny and his two pip-squeaks

Early morning rock to end our trip in GA...

But THEN we flew to the great north (Minnesota) to visit THIS GUY

Baby Eli - my brother Sean's new bundle of cuteness

This is one of the world's great new mommies. She's my fav.

Oh! And my dad came.

But seriously - look at this mommy and yawning little. I'll take credit for this shot. :) (smiles proudly)

And this one of UncPat and his trusty gUI-tar.

All my sibs...a rare a beauteous occasion

And we'll end it with another family shot!

I could go on forever posting pic after pic. There's no one to stop me...accept a certain two year old who has just awoken from a nap.

Cheers to summer!

Miles 2nd birthday!

2011-08-18T22:36:00.001-04:00

Nemo Party! Or "MEEMO PAARTY!" as Miles says. Our little fish turned 2 on August 6, so we had a little party with his cousins to celebrate the big day.

My friend, Meagan, made these to-die-for cupcakes! Oh, they only have Oreo cream cheese filling, is all AAAND an Oreo at the bottom of cupcake!

Hugs from Gavin...

Oh, and Meagan also made these almond sugar cookies to look like Peach from Finding Nemo. Ahhhhh-mazing.

The bday boy jumped from high places, per usual,

Looked generally studly,

Opened presents - a new "super guy" - what Miles calls any super hero

Partook of the delicious treats....

(am I talking too much about the desserts? They were really good though, seriously.)

My mom and Mike got Miles a hot wheels! It was a big hit:) He loooooves it.

Getch 'ur motor running!

Happy 2nd Birthday, Miles Parker Loveless! I am amazed at so much about you these days but here are my top 5 things:

1. Your kindness. So often other parents have ooh-eh and awe-ed at moments when we are leaving the park or Chik Fil A and I've asked you say goodbye to your friends and you give hugs (un prompted) or look them in the eyes and say "bye bye". When you've wronged a friend, you are quick to say "sawry" and tack on a hug for good measure, sometimes a tackle-hug, but a hug nonetheless. It expands my heart to see such goodness in you towards others. Makes a mommy proud.

2. Your LOVE for being with people you love. Mr. Social! It's a little early to call it, but I won't be surprised if you, my son, are an extravert. I love getting to ask you things like, "Wanna go to Nonna's?" because your excitement meter goes through the roof.

3. Your clever-ness. Never to be thwarted in your plans, I've seen you move chairs, build towers, drag daddy and say the darn cutest things in your effort to explain whatever is so extremely necessary for you have/hold/play with/or eat in any given moment. You are a determined one, my son. Most of time after your daddy and I say No or put the iPad out of reach for the 100th time, we turn to each other so you can't see and smile at what an awesome, clever kid we have. Such determination will serve you well in life:)

4. Your snuggly-ness. Such a love bug! I don't know when this will change but I am soaking it up for all it's worth these days. "I hold you?" is your snuggle phrase of choice. Such a good cuddler (this will also serve you well later in life:)

5. Your smarts. Just tonight after dinner, you brought me a dry erase board to color on and then said, "M-I-L-E-S. Miles. Yay!" and clapped for yourself. Daddy & I just laughed, amazed.

We love you, buddy. We love watching you grow and learn. We are privileged to be your parents; grateful that God entrusted us with you two short years ago. Happy birthday!

What in the what?!

2011-08-18T21:22:00.001-04:00

I was sick today and spent the day in bed. {delightful, other than the stomach ache}

I had the time, though, to look through 2 years of pictures and videos. I mostly marveled at my kid (typical). I just couldn't believe that in 2 years we've gone from this...

To this... (he hasn't lost that stare down)

And here...

Oh and this...

TO THIS!

WHAT IN THE WORLD!?

How'd he get so big? (And dirty!)

And handsome.

Melt my goopy droopy heart. When I tucked him in bed tonight he said, "Eye ya you, mommy" (I love you, mommy) and then proceeded to give me a big ole smacker.

Eye ya you too, Miles.

Grey is the new black - literally.

2011-08-09T15:08:00.001-04:00

There is no denying the facts: I have an increasing amount of grey hair. There, I said it. (On the interweb, no less). The horror! The insanity! The tragedy!

I've loved having black hair my whole life. I've never had to fuss with high lights or low lights or toning or bleaching or foiling or sitting under those funny head dryers. I've just had black hair.

But NOW I have black AND white hair - and THAT, my friends, is a noticeable color difference. So, yesterday: this was me...home-dying my roots and embarking on a new phase of life I'm calling "I refuse to look like that lady on What Not To Wear".

I chose a box that said Root Rescue, since it's sense of urgency fit my mood.

I wore creepy gloves...

Read the directions...

And waited the amount of time the directions suggested...

Want to know the result?

Welp...IT DIDN'T WORK! As in, the white hair is still white and the rest of my hair looks the same! I guess I didn't wait long enough for the dye to rescue my roots.

(humph.)

Mothers of Preschoolers

2011-08-08T08:26:00.000-04:00

Starting to mentally leave summer behind. Gearing up for MOPS @ Discovery Church and I'm struck by how profound it is to share these years of mothering with women who want to journey well. Here is an except from this year's material:

"...MomSense overrides my fears and failures and reminds me that motherhood is my greatest adventure to date. Being a great mom doesn't mean being a perfect mom; that's not the deal we enter into when we bring that first gangly baby home. Every mom fails, every mom feels overwhelmed, every mom cries, every mom blows it so profoundly she is not sure she can even tell her friends...

But the other side of the story includes the moments when your children are piled on your lap as you read to them in funny voices while they snuggle into the crook of your arm. It certainly includes your attempts to keep a straight face when your daughter says the funniest thing that has ever been said, while you pretend to take her seriously and then rush to call your mom. It is the spot on the back of your son's neck after a bath that dares you not to kiss the tarnation out of it. It's the tender moments when you wipe tears and kiss dirty faces and hold little hands and brush out hair. It is a love so encompassing and overwhelming you feel like you could perish under the weight of it.

It's our MomSense, the same instincts that wrap our children in security and affirm their worth in this big world. I have it. You have it. It's the language of motherhood. Let us continue to create a community of mamas who hold our failures loosely and embrace laughter, love, and the adventure of parenting with gratitude for the responsibility and grace for the journey. This ride is brief; let's not miss a second of it."

- Jen Hatmaker, forward in MomSense, A Common Sense Guide to Confident Mothering

The Best Prank Ever : Final Victory

2011-08-03T15:59:00.004-04:00

Here's a recap:
>Boys stole Colleen's snap bracelet.
>Girls got angry.
>Boys crashed sleep ever and hid in stairwell eavesdropping on girl talk.

Which brings us to... How we got even.

We came up with a very elaborate and, might I say, ingenious plan for revenge.

The next day at rehearsal, as the boys gloated about the previous night's victorious prank, we girls stuck to a story concocted in the wee hours after Ricky and Jon jumped from the stairwell.

The story, completely fabricated, went something like this:

"Hey guys, guess what? About 15 minutes after you left the cops showed up. Someone in the neighborhood called because you were making so much noise and traipsing through their yards..."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah. It wasn't THAT big of a deal... except Faith's mom was so made because we woke her up when we screamed. The Police Officer got there at the exact time we were trying to explain to Faith's mom why we were freaking out at 4 in the morning. So, we had to tell him it was cause the boys were hiding in the house. Which, like, wasn't a big deal except he asked Faith's mom if she wanted to press charges for breaking and entering!"

"What?!"

"Yeah, but don't worry, we told him no and that we are friends with you guys..."

(blank stares)

"...but just FYI, he did ask us to give him your names. So we gave him Ricky, Jon, and Jason's (who was driving the getaway car). We asked him not to do anything but he may, like, call your parents or something. But I wouldn't worry about it. He didn't seem like it was that big of a deal."

We intentionally underplayed it and kept telling the boys to not worry. We handled it. No big deal. So, they carried on gloating away as rehearsal started.

The musical was two weeks away. So, we moved on to phase two of our plan.

We talked to the director of the show, Mr. M, and asked him to play a role in tricking the boys and carrying out our plan. He was awesome and was totally on board. Also, since Jon, Ricky, and Jason were all lead parts in the show, we got their under studies in on the whole charade, as well.

The following day, it was go time! We had rehearsal and per usual, had a meeting afterwards for notes and last minute changes. Mr. M, (such a trooper!) pretended to have to go see our principal for a minute while we waited to wrap things up. He came back in in a huff, said a few things, then asked Jon, Ricky, Jason and all three understudies to meet him in the little theatre in 10 minutes.

We girls pretended to not think anything of it and casually packed up our stuff as if we were going home. In reality, we left the auditorium and booked it to the little theatre, where we stood on chairs behind a large velvet curtain, waiting, listening for our sweet, sweet revenge to unfold.

The boys came in the room with Mr. M (a phenomenal actor).

"Have a seat boys. I've just been notified by Mr. Heatherington (our principal) that there was an incident involving the police this weekend!? (pause for dramatic affect) What were you thinking? You know it's school policy that if you are participating in any extra curricular activities and get in trouble with the authorities in ANY way, you are automatically SUSPENDED from participating in those activities for 2 WEEKS! (eyes bulging, voice raised) The show is in two weeks!! (sigh) My hands are tied - these boys (pointing to the informed and slightly snickering under studies) will have to take your parts. I'm sorry. There is nothing I can do."

Now, I won't go into the details of the groveling, explaining, and freaking out that ensued for the next 5 to 10 minutes before we decided to jump out from the curtain and scream, "GOTCHA!" But I will mention that even some tears, yes, tears were shed. Oh, sweet, sweet revenge.

The boys ended up admitting ultimate defeat, put their tails between their legs, and even declared it publicly at the next rehearsal.

Would like to note that we all stayed friends, did the show, and went on to have a super fun summer before all parting ways for college.

These are fun memories. Glad I took the time (finally) to jot it all down.

Hope you enjoyed my story.

Peace.
Catie

Snappy: The Prank War's Humble Beginnings

2011-06-07T01:17:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about The Ultimate Guys vs. Girls Prank War. I never finished the story and left it abruptly with the ole cliche, To Be Continued... (dun dun dun - suspense!) But since then, I talked to my friend Colleen (pictured below) who refreshed my memory on various events surrounding this prank war, including how it began.

(There she is...blonde, front & center. She. Is. Awesome.)

The story is pretty hilarious (and should be documented since our memories are waning after ten plus years), so I'd like to pull a little Star Wars action and have Colleen tell the story leading up to the events I described. I will go back and finish the story, even though it feels like I wrote it 17 months ago. (Technically, it was just last month but I have an almost 2 yr old and weeks feel like dog years for this season of life:)

Anywhoo, I give you, Colleen Kehoe Powell:

The Epic Prank War’s Humble Beginnings
For years the following events have traumatized me, but as we’ve just passed the decade mark since the following transpired, I think I’m finally ready to speak about it. “It” is the horrific kidnapping and brutal murder of my snap bracelet. Also referred to as a slap bracelet, for those of you not well versed in popular accessories of the late 80’s/early 90’s this is a snap bracelet: SNAP BRACELET

I had a snap bracelet when I was 8. I wore it with my neon outfit and triple layer socks. It was awesome.

I had recently acquired one from a local gas station. Which, of course, I showed off to everyone I knew. Cause, duh, it was awesome.

Well, two future convicts-in-training, who henceforth will be referred to as “the hoodlums” (JON MILONAS and KRIS JOHNSON I’m talking to you!) decided to begin their lifelong crime spree by stealing MY snap bracelet, affectionately known as Snappy.

Now this part is a little hazy. I think, in an effort of self-preservation, I have blocked out the actual kidnapping. It is unclear to me how exactly they got their hands on Snappy. I mean obviously I was wearing it at all times. (BTW, I recently got in touch with one of the hoodlums (JON MILONAS) in an effort to clear up this blocked memory. I appealed to his sense of humanity asking him to please confess his crimes in the name of justice, but he claimed to have no memory either. As if.) At any rate Snappy was kidnapped and the following day I received a ransom note and these pictures.

This ransom note and pictures of two masked hoodlums doing unspeakable acts of violence to my poor, innocent Snappy caused my heart to stop and my blood to boil.

Despite the professional disguises, I immediately knew the identity of the two kidnapping hoodlums (JON MILONAS and KRIS JOHNSON). I could not just sit around and wait for the kidnappers to give me further instructions. Like Liam Neeson in Taken I had a very particular set of skills; skills I had acquired over a very long career. Skills that make me a nightmare for people like them. I would get them where it hurts. I would kidnap their metaphorical Snappy. And that metaphorical Snappy came in the form of a Home Alone poster. It was one of the hoodlum’s prized possessions. And I would take it until Snappy was returned.

Now I’d like to stress that what transpired next was NOT my fault. I laid out a plan for a safe and secure removal of the Home Alone poster. Exit routes were secured, back up was enlisted. However, security for Operation Snappy’s Revenge was compromised and the hoodlums were informed of our plans. They attempted to halt the poster removal and in the scuffle that ensued the Home Alone poster may or may not have gotten a little torn. Like, the tiniest piece came off the corner. It could have been easily put back together with some scotch tape and a careful surgeon’s hand.

However, because we were dealing with madmen of epic hoodlum proportion (JON MILONAS and KRIS JOHNSON), this miniscule snafu sent them in to a murderous rage. The tearing of their metaphorical Snappy had been an ACCIDENT in retaliation for an even graver deed. It wouldn’t even have gone down that way if they hadn’t tried to rip the Home Alone poster out of my hands. So really, it was their fault if you think about it. But because we were dealing with hoodlums of the worst kind no amount of reason would have talked them out of what they did next…

This is what I received, on Valentine’s Day no less.

In case you can’t tell, this is a picture of my dear, faithful Snappy, being cut into a million pieces (or 32) amid a tray of Valentine’s cookies. The photographic evidence of their heinous act was delivered along with Snappy’s remains, in a heart shaped box. My eyes well up as I think of Sweet Snappy’s broken body.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough the two hoodlums enlisted the rest of their hoodlum pact to continue their Inappropriate and Unnecessary Revenge Tour by infringing on the most sacred of rituals, the ALL GIRLS SLEEPOVER. Which brings us to where Catie began the tale of the Epic Prank War. I won’t spoil the end, but let’s just say that for Snappy, justice was served.

Tea with the Queen

2011-05-28T15:15:00.001-04:00

My nieces, India (5 & a 1/2)...(who is standing right next to me & told me to add the half) and Taylor (3) came over for their first sleepover with Auntie Catie. Tay had rented a book from the library called Tea with the Queen. I liked the sound of that so I sent them invitations in the mail.

We had a tea party with fancy cups.

We ate delicious treats (notably, they are almost gone by the time I thought to take a pic),

played dress up,

made forts,

did our nails,

and ate lots of sugar cubes!

I love these beauties!!

(being an auntie is so fun:)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

The Ultimate Guys vs Girls Prank War

2011-05-15T22:48:00.001-04:00

Two posts ago, I mentioned a high school prank war. Here is the story:

The year was 2000; I was a senior at Wheaton North High School. The new millennia ushered in my first and only minute of musical theatre glory: "Crazy for You: a Gershwin Musical".

I was a chorus girl with one line (which I missed in one of the performances because I was stuck in my panty hose during a costume change).

There I am: Blue hat - pleated skirt - finger to chin, naturally.

As is the case in many-a high school musical, the boys and girls had

a rivalry brewing early in the rehearsal season; small pranks, measly threats, nothing extraordinary.

That is, until a group of he-man woman haters decided to wage war at a girl's sleepover two weeks before the show.

They waited until late & showed up with typical prank essentials (lame but effective): toilet paper, eggs, ketchup. They tapped on the windows to scare us (boring). Of course we ran outside. Of course we caused a heap of commotion. Of course we chased them. Of course it ended in a car chase and traipsing through thorn bushes, naturally.

Eventually, we all made it back to the house, thinking that we had valiantly fought off our foes. We spent the rest of the night exchanging war stories, laughing hysterically & talking about boys - a regular girl's sleepover.

Little did we know, the chase was a decoy.

Ricky Staub and Jon Milonas had snuck into the house during all the chaos and hid, for several hours, in a stairwell listening to every juicy detail!

Eventually, they emerged from their hiding spot, sufficiently scaring us to pieces by making eerie scratching noises until one of us bravely opened the door to the stairwell. They jumped out, terrified us, and bolted out the door.

You can image our reaction - shrieking, confusion, fits of rage, and eventually, we landed at the only viable option: Revenge.

BUT not their kind of revenge. OUR kind. Brains over brawn. Beauty over boyish ridiculousness. Oh man, did we get them back. A plan was hatched in the wee hours of the morning, a plan that will go down in infamy, & ended in ultimate and total surrender.

Victory was on the horizon...

To be continued....

The Lanyard by Billy Collins

2011-05-10T18:21:00.000-04:00

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light
and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.

Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.
Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.

And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth
that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

Included the book, The Trouble with Poetry.

Reason #57 I am an enigma to my husband

2011-03-09T22:46:00.001-05:00

When I tell a story from my life before I moved to The Sunshine State (infancy until 22 years of age...so a relatively large chunk of life), I ALWAYS use the first and last names of all the people in the story and/or use descriptors designated for that person, no matter who I am talking about or if it's the 258th time I've told that story.

I like to think it's because I'm a good collector of people and I want to remember them in all their first and last named-ness. But it's more likely a terrible story telling condition where I CAN NOT leave one detail out, especially last names. Seriously, if I went to high school with you, there is a 97% chance that I will always refer to you by first and last name at all times for the rest of my life.

Therefore, if you knew me before I turned 22, and I am telling my husband a story that involves you, then your names hence forth have gone something like this:

"MeghanShaughnessy, you know...my friend, MeghanShaughnessy, from across the street..."
(He assures me he knows who Meghan is and I don't need to say her last name, but I can't stop, it's attached.)

"My friend, AbbySeward, who is now AbbyClark, you know, who I pretty much lived with the summer before college..."
(He assures me he knows who Abby is but I explain to him I can not help but referring to her in this way because it is now her name: AbbySewardwhoisnowAbbyClark

"You know, KrisJohnson, he's my friend who is hilarious and you'd love him..."
(He nods, yes, I know who Kris is, go on with your story...more than likely it's the story you tell at least once a year about the ultimate guys vs girls prank war...You will also mention FaithOliphantwhoisnowFaithMurphy, among others.)

Sidenote: He's right, I love that story. I will have to post it on here soon it in all it's glory and awesomeness.

The truth is my husband loves me, with my last-name-telling-tendencies and all. He has to cause I don't think I can change.

This is CatieLoveless who used to be CatiePhelan, signing off.

Do you have the same personality type as Mother Theresa?

2011-03-05T15:47:00.001-05:00

Cause I do!

No, seriously, I do.

Stop laughing.

So, I was reading Shauna Neiquist's blog about the Enneagram and I was intrigued.

I couldn't figure out which personality type I was by her descriptions (I kinda felt like I was all of them) so I clicked on the link at the bottom of her post and took an online test for ten bucks.

It was well worth it.

Turns out, I'm a two. (More on this later)

If you end up taking the test, let me know what you are!

What Technology has Done to Me

2011-03-03T07:58:00.001-05:00

I've completely forgotten English. As in, grammar. As in, maybe I should have used a comma there. As in, this is not a sentence. Or is it?

Blogging + facebook + texting has left me with this kind of laissez faire attitude about spelling, punctuation, and the like. It's a free for all, I tell you! A free for all!!

I don't even have the option, like I did in college, to go to the writing lab so some stupid English major who is earning extra credit can review my paper and make me feel like a moron.

Sometimes, I'm all, "Who cares? They get the point! Free speech!!" and other times I'm embarrassed by my horrible sentence structure and want to crawl in a black hole.

All of this is to say, I am aware of my issue. Please don't judge me. I write these posts in between cleaning up stray Cheerios and trips to the park and oh yeah, I picked up stray piece of poo in my kid's room today. What!?! I know, that's how I felt!

Thanks for reading anywayz. (yes, I know that should end with an s. I'm just kidding!)

Booty Load

2011-03-02T14:57:00.001-05:00

Ugh, I had so much energy this morning to accomplish a booty load of things and now I have exactly 47 minutes before Adventure Man Miles gets up from his very needed nap and I'm pooped.

This morning I was full of hope. I made a list. I could conquer the world. And now, all I want to do is dilly dally by writing on here OR sleep OR check Facebook OR search the www (world wide web) for new interesting blogs or articles. But what I should be doing is completing my list OR taking a much needed shower, which I haven't gotten to yet.

OK, Ok. Off I go. Happy Wednesday.

I'm Pretty Much A Professional Seamstress...

2011-03-01T23:17:00.001-05:00

...as you can tell, plainly, by this picture:

When I texted my sister in-law, Sarah, this shot along with news that I've decided to make my nephew-to-be a little something special, she informed me this is a travel sewing kit.

I mean, come on, I knew that.

(Picture me, surprised look, shaking my head "no")

But it came with little scissors...

And two other things, I have yet to identify the purpose of...

(sponge and fake coin with a hook?)

(I didn't learn about this in 8th grade Home Ec, with Mrs. Okra)

Plus, a thimble. This goes on my thumb.

Yup. I'm totally a professional. Etsy, eat your heart out.

(Needles)

I'm sewing!!!

Pine Sol Love Affair

2011-02-28T20:56:00.001-05:00

I washed the floor on my hands and knees today and felt very accomplished...while standing in the aisle at Target studying the Pine Sol bottles.

It was down hill from there.

While actually washing the floor, I only felt sluggish and increasingly angry at my dirty floors. It's not helpful to feel angry at an inanimate object; you can not say snarky things and hurt it's feelings. There is no satisfaction in that.

I did day dream of Joe coming home, bursting into spontaneous song at his glorious reflection in the hard wood, praising me for such a hard days work. (This is not a far off dream, because he usually notices when I've done something significant...yes, washing the floors is significant...I don't care who you are, Martha Stewart!)

He did notice and yet I could not recover the glory I felt when the idea first hit me as I embarked down aisle 22. I think it was the cleaning products. They were calling out to me. We have a complicated, on again, off again relationship. I always go back to them because I love them, with their delicious smells.

I almost didn't cook dinner tonight just so I wouldn't cover up that amazing Pine Sol smell with Chicken Marsala.

There is something very wrong with me.

The Sunshine State is beautiful in February

2011-02-22T21:54:00.001-05:00

My kidderoo, about this time last year. Those toes are like sausages.

Used to wonder if I'd be the type of mom who'd climb up on things and play.
I am.

Let me draw your attention to two things: the dimples right above his pudgy fingers and the thigh role. Incredible (or in-cred-ee-blay as one would pronounce it in Spanish, which is how I meant for you to read it the first time.)

For the love! Is there anything more attractive than seeing an incredible father? Sir, this makes my heart swoon.

Miles and his cousin, India. They seek to intimidate each other... it's how we determine the Alpha male or female in our family. Normal.

My niece, Taylor. She cooler than all you dang hipsters.

"Ah Ah", the monkey.

Just a little plug for Heineken, though he prefers a Guinness or PM Porter from BJ's Brewhouse.

"And furthermore.....!"

Love liberates

2011-02-18T15:27:00.001-05:00

Maya Angelou, speaking on what her mother told her when she left at 17 years old, to live on her own:

"Mama said, 'Alright. Remember this: when you step over my doorsill you've been raised. You know the difference between write and wrong. Do right. Don't let anybody raise you and make you change. And remember this: you can always come home'. I went home every time life slammed me down and made me call it 'Uncle'. I went home with my baby. My mother never once acted like, 'I told you so.' She said, 'Oh, Baby's home! My darlin', Mama's gonna cook you something!'
Love. She liberated me to life. She continued to do that...
Love liberates, it doesn't bind. It says, 'I love you. I love you if you're in China. I love you if you are across town. I love you if your are in Harlem. I love you! I would like to be near you. I'd like to have your arms around me. I'd like to have your voice in my ear, but that's not possible now, so go. I love you!' "

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Blast from the Past: Part 3

2011-01-30T10:34:00.002-05:00

So, this is the last blog I'll re-post, but I still crack up at the memory of this, so I figured I would re-share it.

Also, I thought I'd give an update: I ended up writing to the W hotel, telling them about our experience (depicted below). I actually sent most of what I wrote in the post (which I later felt bad about because Joe told me it was kind of passive aggressive. I said I was just trying to be funny...and angrily vent my frustration...and maybe get free stuff.) That's not passive aggressive, is it?

Anyway, they were quick to respond and the GM of the W in Atlanta called me within a few days. (They have a really great system if you ever need to complain about something, just go to their website. Very efficient.) He was very sweet and apologized and said he found my blog and read the post and thought it was funny. His flattery was enough to suffice and I no longer expected free stuff so I quickly apologized for my passive aggresive email and hung up the phone.

Hope you enjoy the repost, which I originally wrote on June 19, 2010 while wearing the complimentary robe and sitting in our room at the W hotel.

Thoughts on staying in hotels with children

I didn't get the memo, but apparently when you have children, staying at a nice hotel with kids in tow is akin to showing up to the Apple keynote with your 2001 Dell, you just don't do it.

We found this out the hard way at 2 am when our swagger wagon rolled up next to a Lamborghini at the W in Atlanta. The theme music from a Sesame Street segment started playing in my head, "One of these things is not like the other. One of these things doesn't belong."

Things were further put into perspective when the valet exclaimed, "oh shoot, there's a baby in there! You got a baby!" Aaaand the icing on the cake was when Joe and his brother, Jon, went to check us in and told the front desk that we needed 3 cribs. The lady at the front desk said, and I quote, "This hotel only has 2 cribs total. I've worked here for 5 years and they've never been used at the same time. I don't know if you've ever stayed at the W, but we're not very kid friendly."

Aww, snap!

In our defence, we booked this hotel using Starwood hotel credit points and all the other starwood hotels were booked up this week end.

But that is not the point.

The point is this: where DO people with kids stay if they need a place to stay after a long stretch on the open road? Don't celebrities and rich people have kids too? Just beause I have a little tyke attached to my hip, doesn't mean I want to give up the buttery softness of the Heavenly Bed.

Well, W hotel, we are here to stay for another 2 nights, so buckle up! This mama is gonna enjoy being in the lap of luxury, even if I have baby puke on my complimentary robe.

And as long as we're being real honest, the house keeper is gonna be in for a shock because Miles won't sleep in the same room if he can see us, so yes, that is my son in the shower. Boo ya!

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Lessons on courage

2011-01-29T16:30:00.007-05:00

A few days ago, I received this in the mail and I cried.

It is a copy of the handwritten journal my friends' mother wrote over the 3 year period she battled cancer. My friend, Jane, sent it to me with a sweet note thanking me for walking with her during "the cancer years" of her mother. (I did so clumsily, with great intentions, as you can read here in a post I wrote a few days before Christy's passing.)

In the front of the journal, Rogers, Christy's husband writes of his decision to publish her handwritten thoughts:

"She may not approve, but I will simply have to deal with that later."

That sounds like Rog, willing to take a risk, even if he might have to pay for it later. I know this because I worked for him (and Jane) day in and day out during the cancer years.

(I think it was a good risk, Rogers, I've received the reward. You can tell Christy that when you see her again.)

I remember with each diagnosis, he'd call us into his office and say, "I know we have to work, but to be able to do that, first we have to pray." So, he, Jane and I would hold hands and cry and pray. And then we'd get back to work.

Rogers printed the journal as a tribute to the type of woman Christy was because she was extraordinary, courageous, ever faithful - even on the hardest of days.

Reading Christy's journal, I learned courage doesn't always roar it's battle cry. Sometimes it writes it in a journal, knowing, that even after all this, she would not be destroyed and tomorrow would live greater, either on Earth or in Heaven.

Below, she writes, "Ps. 4: And so I can lie down & sleep in peace. Because of You, I am eternally secure."

Later, after a painful bone marrow transplant and the discovery of cancer #3 (breast cancer, the one which ends her life) she writes, "Father of compassion and God of all comfort, please don't let my troubles go to waste. Use them to shape my heart so that I can comfort others with the comfort you give me."

I want that kind of courage.

In her final entry, shortly before her life's end, she writes her last lines, "...and the kingdom of Kirven is at peace because the Lord their God had given them rest on every side."

I wanted to post this to say thank you to Rog and Jane for letting me in on a life well lived. I love you guys.

Pictured below is my beautiful friend, Jane, at her wedding last June.

Thinking on This Today...

2011-01-26T16:40:00.000-05:00

From Maya Angelou on Oprah's Master Class:

"A statement by Terrence: 'I am a human being. Nothing human can be alien to me.'

If you can internalize even a portion of that [saying] you will never be able to say of an act, of a criminal act, 'Oh, I couldn't do that.' No matter how heinous the crime, if a HUMAN BEING did it, you have to say I have in me all the components that are in her or in him. I intend to use my energies constructively rather than destructively.

If you can do that about the negative, just think what you can do about the positive.

If a human being dreams a great dream, dares to love somebody, if a human being dares to be Martin Luther King or Mahatma Ghandi, Mother Theresa, or Malcom X... If a HUMAN BEING dares to be bigger than the condition into which he or she was born, it means so can you.

'I am a human being. Nothing human can be alien to me.' "

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Blast from the Past: Part 2

2011-01-11T21:00:00.005-05:00

I wrote the post below in the summer of 2009. I don't remember what made me start writing on the topic. I was probably thinking about my decision to stay at home with Miles once he was born, putting on hold being a career woman. I was probably thinking about what I had done with my life so far and what it all means and, most likely, I started writing as a way to sort it out. I tweaked some sentences for grammar and effect and to make them more honest, but the vast majority of the post is in it's original form. I like that about blogging, it isn't like a published book. We can re-read our stories and with time, adjust them with clearer lenses. Hope you enjoy.

THURSDAY, JULY 9, 2009

I never met the Pope or Nelson Mandela

Sometimes I worry that God and I won't have anything to talk about when I get to heaven. I wonder if I will just sit there, nervously picking at my finger nails, not really knowing what to say next. When my husband and I first started dating, we would talk on the phone for hours but every once and a while I wouldn't know what to say next so I would nervously put in the classic conversation filler: "Um..." He would get confused at my verbal place holder, thinking I had something I wanted to bring up and then I would have to make up something quickly.

Sometimes I make the mistake of thinking that if I was a world renowned journalist or social justice advocate in Africa or Mother Theresa, then God and I wouldn't run out of things to talk about. We would chat for hours about the time I met the Pope or Nelson Mandela.

But I know that is not true. Deep down, I know that my chat with God will be less about impressing him with my story and more about retelling him my favorite parts of it. I mean, he is the author of it, and what author wouldn't like their character to spring up from the page and say, "Remember that time..." I think he will delight in my retelling.

Maybe I will tell God about the time when I was with my friends Abby and Emily and we walked across town (like at least 7 miles) in the middle of the night just to go sit in a tree. It was the perfect sitting tree during a perfect summer when I was 18 years old before I left for college. God would like that I remembered that night. He would like that I enjoyed that walk and his tree.

Or maybe I will tell him about how I felt when I first met my husband. We were standing in line for a roller coaster at Sea World and I had a strange urge to wrap my arms around him like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. (I restrained myself, but I remember feeling so flustered by the rush of emotion I had toward this stranger). God will probably smile because, as the author, he knew what possibility he would write next for me. He knew that our stories were like a thin thread woven to intersect at that moment. I think God is like the author of a Choose Your Own Adventure novel, he would smile at the adventure I chose.

I might remind God about the Christmas when my brothers and I were shopping downtown Chicago. The snow was coming down beautifully, creating quite a memorable scene. We were waiting in the front of the line for a free trolley when a bunch of people cut in line so we couldn't get on. My brother got into a fight with the driver because the trolley didn't pull up to where the line started. He told everyone on the trolley they should be ashamed of themselves and then told them to have a "Merry Eff-ing Christmas!" (Except the F word was in full force). I might be nervous to tell God this story because my brother's cursing but I wonder if God will laugh (like my brothers and I do) when I get to the part about how there were several nuns on the trolley. I also wonder if maybe one of those nuns felt bad because they cut in line and later told God about it in confession. I bet they also prayed for my brother because of his foul language.

I will not leave out the harder parts of my story. Like the first time I had my heart broken and drove to the beach listening to U2, exhausted from crying, afraid of being alone and unloveable. Or the tumultuous years of my parents separation (7 total) and the steady tidal waves of uncertainty following their divorce. I will recount before the Lord the dark nights of my soul, the moments of fear and shame and pain and depravity. I think God will care deeply about these things as I talk, as he does now, but maybe in my retelling he will do the healing work left undone on this side of Heaven.

I am only 26 now, about to have my first baby, and I am struck by the fact that there will be millions more of these moments I will tell God about someday. At my baby shower, my mother in law, shared an excerpt from one of her books about when my husband was little. It was an ordinary moment, but she wrote it down, captured the moment. We all delighted and cried at her retelling. It wasn't like she met the Pope or Nelson Mandela. It was a normal afternoon as she watched her boys play but it was so special to her and also to God. She gave me a journal to capture these moments with Miles, to write them down and not let them be forgotten so that one day I can tell God about them. I can't wait.

Blast from the past

2011-01-10T14:40:00.001-05:00

I thought it'd be fun to take a trip down memory lane and repost some of my favorite posts over the past few years. I know y'all don't have the time to read through several YEARS of my Internet musings, so here's the first of a few I'll post over the next few days. These are the ones that made me smile.

Pictured above: Joe & Miles with his fav giraffe blanket.

Originally posted
MONDAY, JUNE 29, 2009
Joseph the Giraffe
My husband is the third of three boys; Josh, Jon and Joe - born in that order. When Joe was born, his mother wrote a children's story called Joseph the Giraffe. The theme of the story is based on the biblical principle that the "first shall be last and the last shall be first" in the kingdom of heaven.
The tag line repeated throughout the story is, "Everyone wants to be first, but someone must always be last. And Joseph the Giraffe was just that sort of someone."
The story goes through different scenarios where Joseph the Giraffe shows his kindness, compassion, and generosity by allowing others to be put before himself. These things became true characteristics of my sweet husband.
I love this story. Currently, it sits in my house in its original version; yellowed pages typed from an old type-writer, spelling errors and triple spaces. For a gift one year, we asked an artist friend of ours to read the story and draw what he thought Joseph the Giraffe looked like. We framed it and gave it to Joe's mom. I would love to have this story published, with full pictures for every page.

The reason I bring this up is because the three brothers, Josh, Jon and Joe, are set to have babies - all boys - with due dates in just the same order. Josh and Rebecca due first, then Jon and Lauren, and finally Joe and I. But today we were thrown for a loop. Lauren is scheduled to be induced tonight, in fact, is at the hospital right now. Rebecca is several days past her due date and was very frustrated that Lauren might go before her. But, as fate would have it - Rebecca's water broke around noon today. So, we are in a tight race for who is born first!!

It's exciting, for sure. But leaves me living out Joseph the Giraffe's story. I texted my mother-in-law this afternoon, "While these boys fight to be first, someone must always be last and Joseph the Giraffe, Jr. is just that sort of someone." So, even though I am slightly jealous, with an aching back and swollen belly, wishing it was Miles that was coming tonight, I can smile that my baby is taking after his daddy.

Posted by Catie at Monday, June 29, 2009

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In his corner

2011-01-03T15:49:00.001-05:00

I learned something about my marriage today that I didn't expect to and since the timing is right, it's going to be something I will work hard at in 2011. What I learned is this: I lean heavy on thinking my role as Joe's wife is to be his instructor, Professor emeritus, if you will, when what he needs more often is a safe place to land.

I was reading the book Bittersweet by Shauna Neiquist today. She was talking about a tumultuous time in her marriage and made the following observation: "We tried to teach each other lessons that we realized after the fact weren't ours to teach."
That sentence hit me right between the eyes.
I am guilty of leading questions, mining for "right" answers, answers that will satisfy my preconceived notions, answers that tell me I've been right, my way is the right way, that he now agrees with me and bows before me, the all-knowing Grand Wizard of Knowledge (GWOK, for short, thank you very much.) I am guilty of "I told you so's" with raised eyebrows and "you should have listened to me's", conversational set-ups with the intention of leaning in and teaching him what I think he needs to learn. I have several sticking points I circle round and round, about what I believe to be his blind spots, his wounds that have gone untended, how things should be handled with relationships, parenting, his job, the church. Sometimes he spends these ambushes graciously listening but sometimes, understandably so, he defends himself, trying to say something in order to help me understand he has been listening, he has learned, is learning, is a work in progress, and yet I, with the deafness of a parent hell-bent on a good long lecture, continue to state my same points.
I have wrongly believed that my most important role as his wife is to teach him, but I am learning that actually that is not what my husband needs, especially for this season of our lives. He's a good study, a willing learner, quick to admit his faults and his wrongs. I've tried to teach him lessons that I now realize aren't mine to teach. What my husband needs most right now is a safe place to land. He needs to know I have his back, I'm in his corner.

Marriage is a funny thing; delicate and strong, desperate for discernment in determining it's needs, fickle in the working out of meeting them.

So, here I go into 2011 with a little more understanding, a lot more grace, and the security that sometimes the lessons needing to be learned can be taught by Someone greater than me.

...and my soul felt it's worth

2010-10-16T12:36:00.004-04:00

With record numbers of people out of jobs, looking for jobs, and taking whatever jobs they can find, there is a sense, a mood, a question hanging in the air, regarding our worth.

A friend feels the weight of this question as he recently took a job that requires little use of his gifts and abilities. "An idiot can do this job," he's said to me. "Does that make me an idiot?" No, is my answer of course, but I'm not sure he believes me. He asks this question a hundred times during his day. Sometimes he pacifies his fear, by reminding himself that this is the only job he can find right now and needs something to pay the bills. But sometimes his fear rises up like a flood, is this all that I am worth?

This question of our value hangs like a low lying fog. Where does my worth come from? What is it about my make-up that continues to scour the external world (job titles, bank accounts, degrees, assets, kids' accomplishments) to give my internal soul value? Is it really attached to something as fleeting as a job title?

The answer, my fine feathered friends is no. I've written about this in a previous blog, but I feel it necessary to circle round this issue again.

My worth is tied to something much harder to grasp than by simply pointing to what I've achieved. It is something internal and eternal. My worth is tied to the fact that God created me in his image. He formed within my being the capacity for glory reflective of his likeness; things like goodness, forgiveness, beauty, creativity, and honesty. God likes me, has redeemed me, and is in the process of making all of me reflect all of him. He found a way for all my sin to be forgiven (wiped clean, not swept under the rug) by asking his son, Jesus, to be the final sin offering, on my behalf. I do not have to work for it, this idea of Grace, only receive it. God thinks that I am worth it, that there is something eternally beautiful going on in the inside of me, worth redeeming. He moves me in that direction. And that is what gives me my worth.

It doesn't matter to Jesus what comes up when you google my name or who knows me or how impressive my job sounds. He cares about me, who I really am, what is going on in my heart, and how I am becoming more like him.

Last Christmas, a friend of mine went to a concert where they sang all the classic Christmas songs. She said the one that stood out the most was, O Holy Night, because of a line in the song she had never heard before. It's highlighted below.

O holy night
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of my dear Savior's birth

Long lay the world in
In sin and terror, pining
Til He appeared and my soul felt it's worth.

This song doesn't say, "Til I was a CEO and my soul felt it's worth." or "Til I had a million people read my blog and my soul felt it's worth."

It doesn't say, "Til I impressed you with my job title, and my soul felt it's worth."

It says, "Til he appeared.."
"Til he appeared, and my soul felt it's worth."

My worth is tied up in the decision God made to die for me, redeem me, forgive me, love me, and free me. I hope you experience this kind worthiness. I hope, if you haven't before, today you would start.

Happy early Christmas, everyone. I will be singing Christmas songs today. Love it if you'd join me. "O holy night..."

Table Matters

2010-08-27T16:09:00.034-04:00

In it of itself, a table is no extraordinary thing.

It is, in fact, just four legs and a surface for placing our stuff.

But recently, I was looking at pictures and began to see tables in a different way.

I found them to be constant, unnoticed guests.

At first dates and fifth dates...

And five hundred and fiftieth dates.

They were there for Joe’s 20’s birthday party (we had only been dating for 3 months)

And there for our son’s 1st.

We share our lives over tables.

Our everyday, kid crazy lives.

Tables are often present to observe a stolen kiss...

Or two...

Hear an embarrassing story

Or an epic saga.

They are there when we share our big news!

Surprise, we're pregnant!

Tables stay to find out who wins the Texas Hold 'em tournament,

even when all the sore losers go home.

Sometimes, a table is where we learn patience...

Daddy's need patience too.

Tables are guests at every wedding (even the ones that were forever ago).

And they get all dressed up for special occasions, just like us.

Meal after meal,

you never know when it will be the last time everyone will be there to pull up a chair.

At this occasion, just last Spring, we are all together to take family pictures.

And then we set the table.

The photographer stays to catch a few pictures of the task.

We find linens that match and drag chairs from other rooms.

We wonder if it is worth the fuss.

And it is.

We spend the evening laughing. a lot.

We ask good questions of our honored and oldest guests.

We strain to hear their answers. He gets choked up at one point, telling us his hopes and fears, his desire to live long enough to take care of his wife.

We get teary eyed at his vulnerability, his sincerity,

but we let him off the hook, blaming it on the wine.

And again, we laugh.

We don’t’ know it then, but he will get his wish, tomorrow morning she will pass away.

But that night, around the table, we are all together and there is so much love.

So, next time you are around a table, stop, and take in who is there

and leave a little room for who is not.

But don't forget that tables make these

sitting down, stuffing our faces, good conversations, and forever memories possible.

Today's Reality Check

2010-08-17T16:17:00.001-04:00

As I was getting dressed this morning, I was, once again, struck by the downward spiral that is my current wardrobe.

Is this the stay at home mom equivalent of a Micheal Kors business suit with heels? No. But am I not naked. Yes. So, that'll do.

I've stayed home with Miles for one whole year now. I think I have what I like to call the Israelite/Egypt Complex of the Wardrobe.

You see, I used to work at a company where we would dress super snazzy and all professional, business women like. And by 'we' I mean my co-workers did. The reality is that I did not dress super or snazzy but looking back I somehow imagine that I used to wear Gucci.

In the words of Sarah Groves, "Painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacked..."

Where is the connection, you ask? Well, God worked it out so that a whole nation of people weren't slaves anymore in Egypt. But when life didn't come up roses, some of those people started wishing they were back as slaves again.

It's quite the drastic comparison for my boo hoo-ing about something as trivial as clothes. I get it. But I laughed out loud today when I caught myself thinking these things and wanted to share.

If you are currently working at a place where everyone dresses like they live at J Crew, then this post is dedicated to you. And if you are currently reading this while wearing Gucci, that is quite the coincidence!

Happy Tuesday, people! (or person, if it's just my mom reading) :)

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That Caron...She's so creative

2010-08-01T15:34:00.002-04:00

For a picture perfect description of our vacation to Blue Ridge, GA, check out my mother-in-law's super cute blog here.

Ideal Places to Fit Children on Vacation

2010-07-31T16:57:00.003-04:00

This summer has been my first time vacationing with a little one. The things that used to make me giddy with excitement (amazing views, luxury linens, beautiful bathtubs) now take a back seat to the all encompassing importance of one solitary thing: where will the child sleep. Parents, can I get an Amen!? You find yourself searching your vacation rental for obscure cubby spaces and large closets and with a gleeful excitement say, "ooh yeah, I can fit a pack n play inthere."

The success of your vacation is measured by the nooks and crannies where your children will place their little heads after a long day of building sand castles and frolicking on the beach.

A small room you all share with nothing to shield you from the glare of your toddler at 3 am: bad vacation.
Echo-y bathroom with enough space for the crib but nothing to cover the windows: medium good vacation (no drapes means early morning wake ups and going to the bathroom between the hours of 8pm and 7am are out the question but at least there is a door you can close).
Walk-in closet with no windows: jackpot.

Now, it goes without saying that having their own room is the best case scenario but unless you're rolling in the dough like Brangelia, it's unlikely this will happen.

Below are a few pictures I've snapped from this summer's sleeping situations:

Vacation Spot: W Hotel in Atlanta - Buckhead

Sleeping Spot: This one was tough. Miles is literally in the shower. The bathroom didn't have a door, it had a sliding see through shoji screen. Not good.

Vacation Spot: Cabin in Blue Ridge, GA
Sleeping Spot: You can't really tell in this picture but Joe is standing in the bathroom attached to the room we slept in. Miles pack n' play fit perfectly in there and we put pillows over the windows. Snug as a bug in a rug. Oh, and there were other bathrooms in the cabin, so no one had to hold it. Perfection.

Vacation Spot: Visiting my brother in Minneapolis, MN

Sleeping Spot: I don't know if I should be proud of my innovation or embarrassed by my desperate measures to get some sleep. Miles doesn't sleep very well if we are in the room with him. He thinks its play time. So, I thought that if he couldn't see me then he wouldn't know I was there. Didn't really work. Very, very tired Mommy.

Miles' First Birthday Party

2010-07-25T21:52:00.009-04:00

We celebrated Miles' first birthday today with his cousins, JD and Kingston. Since our lives are a circus anyway, we figured we might as well have our very own to celebrate the boys turning one. (Miles' actual bday is Aug 6 but we picked a day in the middle of all the boys)

Below are some of my favorite pics from the day.

Yes, it was!

Gavin ran the snow cone machine. Delish!

We made a photo booth, complete with costume accessories. It was super fun...

Well, not everyone thought so...

We played games: egg relay, potato sack race, water balloon toss/water balloon fight

...and won prizes

Of course there was cake...

Ten of them, actually...balloons!!!

And we let the birthday boys go to town on their very own cake

yumm!

washed right off in the lake...

and opened a couple presents!

We are exhausted but what a memorable party! These boys crack me up. I love you, Miles. Being your mommy is the joy of my life. Happy first.

Scenes from a mountain vacation

2010-06-26T21:11:00.001-04:00

Lake Day::

-

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Thoughts on staying in hotels with children

2010-06-19T13:16:00.001-04:00

Ordinary Day

2010-06-17T14:56:00.000-04:00

I am packing, gearing up for a vacation in the mountains with Joe's family, and my little man is happyily playing by himself. I came over to snap a few pics and he gave me these smiles. What a keeper.

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Happy Anniversary!

2010-06-16T15:32:00.002-04:00

I couldn't have married a more perfect man for me. Joe is the finest, greatest gift God has given me. He is clever and joyful and funny and steady and compassionate and willing to serve. He is hard working and wise and patient and truely kind hearted. He is paramount in my re-making; essential to the glory building of my soul to reflect all that God has in mind for me.

I am very much in love him and look forward to all our years together.

These pictures are from our 4 year anniversary on June 9, 2010.

Creating a Blog

2010-06-15T20:54:00.001-04:00

All of us who share in this Internet blog space, understand what it felt like in the beginning. Should I do a blog? How do I even do it? Etc., etc,..

And then we dive in.

My mother in law is starting to blog. Tonight, Joe is showing her the ropes.

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Nothing Better

2010-06-12T14:13:00.000-04:00

I mean, really! Is there anything better than a baby in a diaper on beautiful green grass? oh, there is....3 babies!!

Since my sister-in-laws and I had the boys just 4 weeks apart (Kingston & JD born on the same day and Miles 4 weeks later), we've regularly made them sit for an amateur photo shoot with yours truly. It's a circus, but we continue to make them do it.

Below are some we shot after swimming at the YMCA. The cousins are 11 months old and Miles is 10 months in these shots. People coming and going from the gym couldn't get enough of our spectacle. One lady even asked if she could take a picture with her phone.

The Real Housewives of the Sunshine State

2010-06-08T14:29:00.020-04:00

I'll admit it, I watch The Real Housewives on Bravo. I know, I know, it's so much DRAMA. But it's sooo good!

So, I thought it'd be fun to create my own Real Housewives of the Sunshine State cast. I mean, Bravo could call any day now. So, here we are:

The Real Housewives of the Sunshine State

(note: in the intro we would hold shells, or have sand run through our fingers, or wear mickey ears)

Name: Catie Loveless (it's me, people, of course I am on my own show!)

Status: Married to Joe

Children: 1 (Miles, pictured above)

Brings: the gang together.

Name: Rebecca Loveless (sister-in-law to Catie...Yes, my RHOTSS is rep'in like the Real Housewives of New Jersey (RHONJ)...all in the family)

Status: Married to Josh

Children: 3 (Gavin, India, & Kingston)

Brings: the food.

Name: Lauren Loveless (sister-in-law, as well)

Status: Married to Jon

Children: 2 (Taylor and JD)

Brings: the style.

Name: Sarah Delgado (Cousin to us Loveless girls. My old landlord. I used to spell her name 'Delgato' on my rent checks, which is incorrect and means "of the cat" in Spanish)

Status: Married to Alejandro (who Lady Gaga sings about in her song "Alejandro")

Children: 2 (Jackson and Edison)

Brings: the smarts. (nickname: GWOK, "Grand Wizard of Knowledge")

Name: Mallory Ellis (sister to Sarah, our cousin too)

Status: Married to Darryl

Children: 1 (baby Jace)

Brings: the freshness. She's the newest mommy of the bunch.

Name: Lindsey Kirkland (not related in any way, but she's my friend and I would want her on the show).

Status: Married to Justin

Children: 1 (Sawyer)

Brings: the silly.

GUEST APPEARANCES: (since the following people don't live in the Sunshine State, I would make them come and guest star)

Name: Sarah Phelan

Status: Married to Sean (my brother)

Children: 1 dog, Cooper

Brings: the party.

Name: Faith Murphy

Status: Married to Stephen

Children: 1 (Justus)

Brings: the funny and inappropriate comments.

Name: Abby Clark

Status: Married to Nate

Children: 2 (Isabelle and Judah)

Brings: the leg warmers, dance music, and Starbucks.

For Moms

2010-06-05T14:28:00.000-04:00

This post is for my mama friends, to bear witness to a phenomenon I've observed in the mothering world. (Which is different than the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, coming soon to Universal Studies in Orlando, FL!) I have found that along with the mind boggling ability to produce milk from our bubbies and wrap up a tiny human like a burrito, mothers also acquire the less attractive ability to hurt each other as a means to feel better about their own choices. Know what I mean? Let me rep an example.

Two friends are hanging out with their little ones. One family has decided to allow their child to cry it out and the other rocks their child to sleep. Mama #1 puts her child down for a nap, and the child begins to cry. The mother's normal procedure is to let her child cry until she falls asleep. The other mother is appalled. "Do you hear her?"...a little later... "She's still crying."... "That poor baby!"

Switch the scenario up. Mama #2 needs to put her child to sleep. It involves a time consuming ritual of rocking, bouncing, white noise, and a careful transfer to the bed, which sometimes doesn't go smoothly, causing the process to begin again. It takes about 4o minutes before the child is down. Mama #2 joins her friend, who is annoyed. "Do you have to do that every day?! Man, your kid is high maintenance!"

Both mothers left hurt and defensive. And you know the drive home was spent working themselves into a tizzy, silently defending their parenting and creating a critique of their friend, which attacked not only their parenting but also their marriage, humanity, and salvation. Oh, you've been there too?

The point of this post is not for me to go into a diatribe about which parenting style I think is better and why. In fact, I'd rather leave you guessing which mother I relate to more. The point is to shine a light on both of the mothers' reactions in each scenario, to show how we hurt each other.

This can be played out in a hundred scenarios: One family chooses a home birth and another wants to have the baby in the hospital (enter hurtful comments here), one family does spankings and another uses time outs (enter hurtful comments here), or one family vaccinates and another does not (enter hurtful comments here). The choices we have to make from inception are a'plenty: Am I going to get an epidural or go natural? Should I get a baby Bjorn or a Moby? Do I breast feed or use formula? Should I use disposable diapers or cloth? And so on and so on and so on. For the next 18 plus years, there will be a kajillion decisions.

And so we mothers find ourselves with a strange, new defense mechanism. It is a powerful, rabid, werewolf of a thing that judges mothers who choose differently. It is as if others' choices threaten my standing as Mom of the Year. Can you relate?

But! We don't have to be this way. Though we may choose different parenting techniques, we can also choose how to seek to understand one another rather than judge. These types of friendships create growth and leave room for us to change our minds.

I recently had a friend come visit me with her son. We have chosen to parent differently when it comes to some things and yet, are very similar in many other things. Over the course of the weekend we had some amazing, judgement free conversations. Lots of talks started with, "Now, tell me how you guys do "x, y and z"? or "What are your thoughts on "blank"? Great questions started sprouting like: How does my past and my childhood relate to my parenting decisions?What ways am I parenting out of my own need, rather than what my child needs? Is this working? Who do I know that I want to emulate in the raising of my children? It was such a fruitful time, something that we all need in our friendships with other moms.

Good stuff. Let's all try be this way in our friendships, deal? Let's think before we say something hurtful and apologize if we do. Let's leave enough room to grow and ask good questions of ourselves and others. Oh and if someone hasn't told you lately, you're a really good mom. We need to say that to each other more often.

Hope you have a good weekend. Thanks for reading.

Update on the design challenge

2010-06-02T22:36:00.001-04:00

Here are some photos from my friend who asked me to stage her house for the Storyville live charity event. Sorry about the poor quality, pics are from the iPhone.

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Beach Day - New Smyrna, FL

2010-05-31T09:42:00.002-04:00

Miles

Kingston

Miles

Jon, Josh, & Joe

Lauren

Jackson

Taylor

India

Edison

JD

It was Miles' first time at te beach. He loved it! We sat at the waters edge and as the waves came in he would splash and laugh. He also loved digging in the sand. Such a fun day with the cousins!!

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Divine Design

2010-05-26T12:52:00.001-04:00

A friend has asked me to help stage her house for a charity event she is hosting. I went over today and took some pictures. Trying to tackle the empty walls and fire place. What to do, what to do? Would LOVE it if I could get an artist to donate peices and also have them in person at the event painting live. Thinking of using several mirrors/candles, light,knotty wood over the fireplace. We shall see! Off to shopping I go!

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O God, Gather Me

2010-05-25T10:13:00.000-04:00

O God, gather me
to be with you
as you are with me.

Keep me in touch with myself,
with my needs,
my anxieties,
my angers,
my pain,
my corruptions,
That I may claim them as my own rather than blame them on someone else.

O Lord, deepen my wounds into wisdom;
shape my weakness into compassion;
gentle my envy into enjoyment,
my fear into trust,
my guilt into honesty.

O God, gather me
to be with you,
as you are with me.

By Ted Loder, Guerillas of Grace

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Bath Time

2010-05-24T23:52:00.000-04:00

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Couple new pics

2010-05-04T09:23:00.001-04:00

My son has a great attention span. Weither reading a book or watching a cartoon, he sits patiently and pays attention! We will see how long that lasts.

Flirting with one of the nurses at doctor's office

Joy

Wrinkly feet after swimming

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No arms were injured in the making of this video

2010-03-23T00:02:00.002-04:00

Baby Face

2010-03-19T08:16:00.008-04:00

It's an amazing thing to me that we resemble our parents or aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings. Crazy that there is something in our DNA that allows us to make the same expressions or have the same features. Crazy that God would make it that way. I wonder why he did? I go back and forth on who Miles looks like because he has his daddy's coloring, fair skin & blue eyes, but the faces he makes are so me sometimes.

Miles 7.5 Months Old

::Watching Daddy play basketball::

Below are some of my baby pictures.

I see Miles in there somewhere. :)

I be up in the gym just working on my FITNESS

2010-03-11T09:22:00.006-05:00

Let's have a confessional today, shall we?

I'll go first: I'm a conformist. No, not a communist. A c-o-n-f-o-r-m-i-s-t. I have an insatiable hunger for normalcy, for not rocking the boat, for all things to fit just so. I don't think it is popular to be this way, which is ironic. I think it is more favorable to be revolutionary, out of the box, blazin' your own trail! No, it is not the type of thing that gets you kudos even with your closest friends. But it is how I am.

My husband is not a conformist (or a communist). I learned this when planning our wedding. He told me that he wanted a "shwedding": one part show, one part wedding. Something akin to the folks who danced to Chris Brown down the isle. (Please watch the video here, if you don't know what I am referring to.) I put the kibosh on any such thing because I was afraid of how it would all turn out, what people would think. Oh, Catie, live a little!! I know!! (This is what I often yell at the me in my head). Recently, my husband wanted to take some of our savings and put it into investments. I wanted to turn it into gold bars and keep it under our mattress. Once, after a rousing exchange at work, my husband got a text from a co worker that said, "Have I ever told you that you're my hero and you have balls of steal!" I have no such gilded body parts or gold under my bed.

If you know me, I am not a push over and I am not quiet but that doesn't change the well-deep longing in my soul for all things to be at peace.

I want to be more like my husband, more willing to take risks. But I also think there is something about that pesky part of me that wants all the pieces to fit which resembles something on the other side of this life. I think that the coming together of all things, in perfection and harmony is the blessing that waits for us in Heaven. Yes, that's what I want: perfection & harmony. And to me, being a risk taker feels like the mortal enemy of those two things.

I was listening to a favorite song of mine called Needle and Thread, by Sleeping at Last, and in light of my recent musings on this issue, I heard this last verse in a new way.

Maybe Hollywood was right

When the credits have rolled and the tears have dried

And the answers that we have been dying to find

Are all fit together and, somehow,

Made perfectly mine, mine, mine

Made perfectly mine.

I love it when a movie comes together in the end. When it all makes sense. Yes, when all the pieces fit.

So, I guess in this life, I will always be working on my fitness and working on my riskiness. Just like Fergie.

Ode to the iPhone

2010-02-24T09:47:00.000-05:00

I didn't have a phone with a camera in it until Miles was born. Then, as a "thanks for having our baby" present, Joe bought me an iPhone 3GS. And I fell in love! I really feel that this phone is the best purchase of the past 10 years! As I look through my pictures and videos alone, I realize that because of this phone, I've been able to capture hundreds of moments otherwise lost to the cumbersome nature of lugging out the camera or video recorder. I have to laugh because most of my pics and videos are of Miles or food, clearly two of the most important things to me:) here are some recent ones:

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Soul Food

2010-02-23T16:22:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I am coherent enough to write down notes when I read things that are inspiring or beautiful or reveal something true. I usually write just a few words, to encapsulate the gist of whatever it was I read that moved me. This makes me very bad at using quotation marks and also very susceptible to think that I, in fact, wrote the eloquent nugget of insight. Apart from the ego-thrilling plagiarism, the joy of stumbling upon these "quotes" is that I am reminded of something true all over again without having to reread a book.

Such was my luck today.

Doodled in my sketch book were these words:

My soul is the part of me that longs for more of God than I have right now. It is the very essence of me that God knew before he brought me forth in physical form.

Wow. That's good stuff. And it made me think about my soul. The willowy, wispy, intangible part of me that is most real. The part of me that can be as beautiful as I feel after getting all dolled up for a fancy date and can also be as ugly as I am when I wake up after sleeping with my make-up on.

The part about the soul being the part God knew before he bought you forth in physical form, gave me chills because I thought of my son. He is such a new physical form. And God knew him first, brought him forth, and shared him with me. God gave this world the ability to meet my son's soul and he gave me the honor of nurturing it and watching it grow. I am over the moon thankful for that.

Before I close up this blog post and my son, soul and all, get up from his nap, I think I should mention that I happen to remember that those words were from a book by Ruth Haley Barton called The Soul of Your Leadership. The only reason I remember that is because she was Mrs. Barton to me growing up because I was friends with her daughter, Charity. You should really go read this book because there are more amazing nuggets of insight in it.

For the Kirvens

2010-02-22T00:31:00.005-05:00

I read a book in college that chronicled a father's grief after losing his son. He said that what he most wanted from people, more than cards, sincere and clumsy, or flowers, pretty and temporal, was the simple gesture of sitting with him on the mourning bench. I was not sure then, and I am not sure now, what that translates to in practical terms and I am in need of an answer.

My friend is losing her mother to cancer. Any time now. We are all just waiting.

I feel frozen in knowing what I should do. Should I call, cook something, email, text, send something, or just pray? I end up mostly crying. I cry at my kitchen sink, while updating my husband, while driving, or after receiving texts regarding how she is doing. I don't know what to do for my friend. She is not without people who love her, friends closer than I am, but still I want her to know I am sitting with her on the mourning bench. Just sitting and crying. I don't understand her grief or know how she feels. I guess, even if I have known death in my own life, I could not understand it because each death is as unique as each life.

The man in the book I read in college talked about a poet who wrote about "inscape." Something had inscape when it put it's stamp on things, when it had a particularly unique quality to the way it interacted with the world. Each of us has inscape. The way we shake hands or say hello when we answer the phone. The way we put on lipstick or get ready before bed. As each life has inscape, the man wrote, so does each death. There are things about the grief my friend feels that I will never understand, but I will sit with her nonetheless.

And I am not alone. There are literally hundreds and hundreds of people sharing a seat on this mourning bench. We sit together with you, dear Jane.

Splitting ache that must be motherhood

2010-02-21T21:04:00.005-05:00

Miles, 2 weeks old

Miles and me, today, 6 months old

Shauna Niequist, speaking of her son:

"I felt one of the first splitting aches that must be motherhood. I felt in that moment that nothing could hurt my son, that I am superhuman in my love for him, that if he needed me, I would fly or bend steel or wrinkle time with the force of my love. And in the same moment, I know that all mothers feel that way, and that all mothers also feel the exact inverse, the terrifying awareness that people run red lights, and that we won't be there to stand in front of our son's cars, shielding them from danger with our superhuman selves.

I felt powerful and powerless at the same instant, full of rabid, crushing love, and also small and out of control and scared for all the life my son will have to live without my protection. Parenting for me feels like a love so big I can't manage it, a force so visceral I can't contain it.

I know that when Henry is born, I will change his diapers and feed him and keep him clean and warm. Those are the physical things I can do for him. But what I want to do for him takes my breath away. I want to twist and remake the world around his little self, to shine it up and rearrange it and make it great and special for him. I want to walk ahead of him, making sure things are safe, and walk behind him, keeping an eye on him. I want every day of his life to be happy, and I feel like I could move the sun with the intensity I feel. I knew that a baby would be vulnerable and would need my protection, physically and otherwise. But what I know now as I watch my mother is that it doesn't matter how big a son gets, a mother always feels, however illogically, that she should have been there to save him from whatever it was that hurt him."

Visiting Minnesota

2010-02-08T12:07:00.001-05:00

Miles and I have ventured to the Great Up North, into the snowy tundra of Minneapolis. I was nervous to travel with a 6 month old by myself, but he was a champ during the flight. It was so fun to see my brother and sister law.

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Pictures that I am loving right now

2010-01-22T15:42:00.003-05:00

Above: Miles, 2 months old, with my mom and my grandma

Above: Miles, 5 months old, at the doctor's office for a check up

Above: Miles, 5 months old, looking up at his daddy

Decade in Review

2009-12-22T09:35:00.006-05:00

Y2K, we were all okay.

Where was I when the decade began?

I was a junior at Wheaton North High School. I lived at 2066 Childs Ct. in Wheaton, Illinois. I drove a 1993 white Buick Centry, that previously belonged to my late, great Uncle Ralph. I was 16 going on 17. I wore my WN Dance Team uniform to school on Fridays. On weekends, you would find me at the football games or basketball games, hanging out with friends, driving around finding somthing to do, getting coffee at Starbucks, or working at Egg'lectic Cafe. I didn't have a cell phone. I didn't own a computer.

I was a new Christian.

I was dating Kyle McClure, a real stand up guy and my first quality relationship. His mom would remain one of the more influential women in my life and still a dear friend.

I had not yet met Emily Casey, who would be the Maid of Honor at my wedding and my best friend for the better part of the decade.

I didn't know all the glorious things the decade would have in store for me: falling in love, moving to Florida, getting married to the most amazing man, and as the decade came to a close, the adventure of motherhood. I honestly couldn't have dreamed of a better ten years. Looking forward to what the next ten have in store.

Miles makes his way into the world!

2009-08-20T16:11:00.005-04:00

I'm am absolutely over the moon, in love, in awe, and incredibly tired. Our son, Miles Parker Loveless, made his way into this world, 3 days late, on Thursday August 6, 2009.

Wednesday night, Joe and I were relaxing on the couch watching So You Think You You Can Dance, when I started to have contractions pretty regularly. Joe was keeping track of them using the stop watch ap on his iPhone (That should be the next Apple commercial: In labor? there's an ap for that.) They were about 4 min apart for over an hour but weren't getting any stronger. I didn't feel like they were really doing anything so we decided to just go to bed.

At around 5:30am I woke up because my water broke. I jumped out of bed and yelled to Joe. They told us in Lamaze class that it could be a gush of water or a trickle...this was definely a gush! Joe got our things together while I did my hair and put on make-up (obviously the contractions still weren't causing me any significant pain). I grabbed a banana to eat on the road and we were out the door.

The day before, at my doctor's appointment, they did a sonogram and found out the baby was pretty big. He was measuring 10lbs but the nurse informed us that they could be a pound off in either direction. The doctor explained to us the complications this could cause based on my pelvic exam. He suggested we do a c-section but left it up to us to decide.

I was super relieved at that option because it put to rest all my nerves about labor and delivery. I felt like having a c-section was something I could wrap my brain around. Joe and I were both in agreement that this was the best option for us. I no longer felt like I was going to have a panic attack at the thought of delivery. And I felt like it was safest option for my baby. I hated the thought of there being complications, forcing us to do an emergency c-section.

When we got to the hospital, we didn't know if our planned c-section was still an option. We went into triage and everyone was so great. I was having contractions 3 minutes apart but they weren't very strong still. The nurse asked me a series of questions, including, "When is the last time you ate?" I informed her of the banana I had in route. Apparently, you can't have any food in your stomach for more than 6 hours before you have any type of surgery. We would have to wait at least 6 hours before they could prep me for a c-section. Ugh. The interesting thing is that even after having contractions all night, having my water break, and waiting 6 more hours with contractions 3 minutes apart, I still was not dialated at all! If I didn't have the c-section, who knows how long it would have taken for this little one to come!

When enough time had elapsed for the stupid banana, they took me to be prepped and had an anistisiologist come talk to me about pain medication options. I opted for the epidural - which did not hurt at all! It all happened so efficiently and quickly. The nurses and doctors were amazing. We were in good spirits the whole time and joked around with everyone. I was super calm and just so excited to meet my little one! Joe put on his scrubs and they wheeled us into the operating room. Within minutes, Miles was out, crying away and they even let Joe put the camera on the other side of the sheet and video him seconds after he came! Everything was so surreal. They cleaned him off and came and laid him on my chest. My sweet baby boy! Joe stayed with him the whole time while they sewed me up and soon we were back in recovery.

It was a really great experience all in all. We stayed in the hospital for 3 nights and soaked up every minute with our little guy. He ended up weighing 8lbs 9 oz and was 20 inches. Even though he was smaller than projected, I wouldn't do anything differently.

He is perfect. And I love being his mom. i will write more soon but for now he needs to eat!

Some Pictures from the Loveless Family Vacation 2009

2009-07-28T17:19:00.005-04:00

I never met the Pope or Nelson Mandela

2009-07-09T13:51:00.005-04:00

Sometimes I worry that me and God won't have anything to talk about when I get to heaven. I wonder if I will just sit there, nervously picking at my finger nails, not really knowing what to say next. When my husband and I first started dating, we would talk on the phone for hours but every once and a while I wouldn't know what to say next so I would nervously put in the classic conversation filler: "Um..." He would get confused at my verbal place holder, thinking I had something I wanted to bring up and then I would have to make up something quickly.

Sometimes I make the mistake of thinking that if I was a world renowned journalist or social justice advocate in Africa or Mother Theresa, then God and I wouldn't run out of things to talk about. We would chat for hours about the time I met the Pope or Nelson Mandela.

But I know that is not true. Deep down, I know that my chat with God will be less about impressing him with my story and more about retelling him my favorite parts of it. I mean, he is the author of it, and what author wouldn't like their character to spring up from the page and say, "Remember that time..." I think he will delight in my retelling.

Maybe I will tell God about the time when my friends Abby, Emily and I walked across town in the middle of the night just to go sit in a tree. It was the perfect sitting tree during a perfect summer when I was 18 years old before I left for college. God would like that I remembered being young and a free spirit. He would like that I enjoyed that walk and that tree.

Or maybe I will tell him about how I felt when I first met my husband. We were standing in line for a roller coaster at Sea World and I had a strange urge to wrap my arms around him like it was the most natural thing in the world to do. (I restrained myself, but I remember feeling so flustered by the rush of emotion I had toward this stranger). God will probably smile because, as the author, he knew what he would write next for me. He knew that our stories were like a thin thread woven to intersect at that moment.

I might remind God about the Christmas when my brothers and I were shopping downtown Chicago. The snow was coming down beautifully, creating quite a memorable scene. We were waiting in the front of the line for a free trolley when a bunch of people cut in line so we couldn't get on. My brother got into a fight with the trolley driver because he didn't pull up to where the line started. He told everyone on the trolley they should be ashamed of themselves and then told them to have a "Merry F#!*ing Christmas!" I might be nervous to tell God this story because my brother's cursing but I wonder if God will laugh (like my brothers and I do) when I get to the part about how there were several nuns on the trolley! I also wonder if maybe one of those nuns felt bad because they cut in line and later told God about it in confession. I bet they also prayed for my brother because of his foul language.

I don't think I will leave out the harder parts of my story. Like the first time I had my heart broken and drove to the beach listening to U2, exhausted from crying. Or the time when I was 20 and cried so hard in my dorm room because I wished my parents never got divorced. I think God would get misty eyed, remembering those moments.

I am only 26 now, about to have my first baby, and I am struck by the fact that there will be millions more of these moments I will tell God about someday. At my baby shower, my mother in law, shared an excerpt from one of her books about when my husband was little. It was an ordinary moment, but she wrote it down, captured the moment. We all delighted and cried at her retelling. It wasn't like she met the Pope or Nelson Mandela. It was a normal afternoon as she watched her boys play but it was so special to her and also to God. She gave me a journal to capture these moments with Miles, to write them down and not let them be forgotten so that one day I can tell God about them. I can't wait.

One more thing...

2009-06-29T21:59:00.001-04:00

Joe put the crib together tonight!

Joseph the Giraffe

2009-06-29T20:42:00.003-04:00

My husband is the third of three boys; Josh, Jon and Joe - born in that order. When Joe was born, his mother wrote a children's story called Joseph the Giraffe. The theme of the story is based on the biblical principle that the "first shall be last and the last shall be first" in the kingdom of heaven.

The tag line repeated throughout the story is, "Everyone wants to be first, but someone must always be last. And Joseph the Giraffe was just that sort of someone."

The story goes through different scenarios where Joseph the Giraffe shows his kindness, compassion, and generosity by allowing others to be put before himself. These things became true characteristics of my sweet husband.

I love this story. Currently, it sits in my house in its original version; yellowed pages typed from an old type-writer, spelling errors and triple spaces. For a gift one year, we asked an artist friend of ours to read the story and draw what he thought Joseph the Giraffe looked like. We framed it and gave it to Joe's mom. I would love to have this story published, with full pictures for every page.

The reason I bring this up is because the three brothers, Josh, Jon and Joe, are set to have babies - all boys - with due dates in just the same order. Josh and Rebecca due first, then Jon and Lauren, and finally Joe and I. But today we were thrown for a loop. Lauren is scheduled to be induced tonight, in fact, is at the hospital right now. Rebecca is several days past her due date and was very frustrated that Lauren might go before her. But, as fate would have it - Rebecca's water broke around noon today. So, we are in a tight race for who is born first!!

It's exciting, for sure. But leaves me living out Joseph the Giraffe's story. I texted my mother-in-law this afternoon, "While these boys fight to be first, someone must always be last and Joseph the Giraffe, Jr. is just that sort of someone." So, even though I am slightly jealous, with an aching back and swollen belly, wishing it was Miles that was coming tonight, I can smile that my baby is taking after his daddy.

Miles' Room: We're Making Progress

2009-06-14T20:52:00.004-04:00

I'm on a boat!

2009-06-14T18:18:00.006-04:00

I want to remember days like today.

Relaxing on a boat. Dipping my swollen, preggo feet in the water. Blue sky. Perfect.

The boys started doing jumps off the boat and naming each jump. Joe did a jump he named "Home Birth" which hurt like h-e-double hockey sticks. And Aren did one named "Induce this baby out" where he jumped, landing with his legs completely spread. It was hilarious. I sat on the back of the boat giggling away at their show.

"I'm on a boat!"

Here's to 3

2009-06-14T17:50:00.007-04:00

Joe and I celebrated our 3rd anniversary this week. It was officially on Tuesday but due to Game 3 of the NBA finals, opted to celebrate on Friday.

We decided to keep it to a low budget celebration, since we just went on a cruise and are having a baby in a month and a half. It was the little things that made this anniversary sweet to me.

Things like knowing before I came home that Joe had gone to his parents house to borrow his dad's car for the evening. He's done this since we started dating. Whenever we have a special date night, he always tries to borrow a nice car and have good music prepared. By nice car, I mean anything that would be an upgrade from our 2000 Nissan Protege, which has a squealing problem and rear bumper damage.

After a wonderful dinner, we went to see the movie Up, which was a perfect anniversary movie. It beautifully tells the story of an old man and his wife. It gives wonderful pictures of the sweetness of their love. I held Joe's hand and felt so thankful to have found him. I love celebrating our years together.

Happy Anniversary, Love. Here's to #3.

Rule Following - my specialty

2009-06-12T13:58:00.003-04:00

Joe's dad is in Israel right now. He was accepted as part of a group of pastors to take this pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Before they left, the foundation that runs these trips asked several family members and friends to write him letters that he can open while he is over there. Below is the letter I wrote him. Even though I am sure most everyone wrote sentimental letters, I decided to take a different approach. I felt it was necessary, considering the type of trouble I know he is apt to get into. If you know him, you will understand and probably give me a thumbs up for keeping him in line. He needs it. Hope it makes him laugh. Enjoy.

Dear, Dear Father-in-law of mine,

I am sure by now you have read some pretty encouraging letters from other family members during your trip to Israel (and if they started with mine…I’m very sorry…I am sure the mushy emotional letters will soon follow). I figured I would use my letter writing to give you some much needed words of wisdom for while you are traveling through the Holy Land.

Now, as you know, I do not have much experience traveling over seas and I haven’t even been to the Holy Land Experience here in Orlando. But I am well versed in something that is essential during any trip to a war zone: rule following.

Please follow the rules, so you don’t get dead. We want you back home safe and sound. Here are some scenarios I imagine you will run into during this trip:

Hypothetical Scenario #1:
It is night time and everyone on the trip is hunkered down for an evening of shut eye. You are not tired though and find yourself wanting to take a late night run like the one you did with Bill Hybels on your last travel abroad. You think to yourself, “This is a good idea – a late night view of the Gaza Strip” Please note: It is not a good idea. There are several things that could happen to you - like you get mistaken for some sort of rebel bad guy and take a bullet in the back of your head. Or you are unfamiliar with the jogging trail up the Mount of Olives and fall into a small crevice, breaking your ankle and unable to cry for help. (Note: I am not looking at a map as I write this and, therefore, throwing out places that may in reality be nowhere near each other or where you are traveling…but you get the idea.)

Hypothetical Scenario #2:
It has been a long day of site seeing with your new pastor friends (quite the exciting crew) but you notice that you are not going into any of the “really cool” places, due to silly “safety precautions.” You have stopped listening to the tour guide, put on your head phones, and decide to take a self guided tour. Who cares if there is a Palestinian or Israeli man holding an assault rifle? Please note: This is not a good idea. You could get lost in your world of country music as you meander through unfamiliar streets and get jumped by a gang of angry bad men. (I don’t know why they are angry either…just stay with the group.)

A good rule of thumb during this trip is to ask this question: “What would Catie do?” And the answer will usually come back as, “Catie would follow the rules.”

Having said all that, I hope you have an amazing trip and I can’t wait to hear about it!

Love you!

Catie

Toms Shoes

2009-06-07T15:26:00.007-04:00

This is Joe with his best friend, Aren.

Aren's excitement about Miles' coming into our family has been a surprising, sweet gift to me during this pregnancy. I think it makes me so happy because I wouldn't have expected it. Aren doesn't have any neices or nephews, he's young and single, and I just figured he would think that Miles would interupt his guy time with Joe. But it has been the complete opposite.

The other day, Aren said he couldn't wait any longer and he got a present for Miles. He had us try to guess what it was and even with all his clues I had no idea. He said this gift was the beginning of Miles' global awareness and heart toward other people. He said it's something for him here but it's also something for someone in another part of the world. I had no idea. What would you have guessed?

He got him a pair of little, baby TOM'S Shoes!

For those of you who don't know, TOM'S Shoes is this great little company that for every pair of shoes you buy, a pair of shoes is sent to a child who needs them in another part of the world. You may have seen their commercial with AT&T. You can check out their website here http://www.tomsshoes.com/

Below are pictures of Miles' first philonthropic gift. I love it!

30 Weeks

2009-05-28T10:12:00.003-04:00

Here I am at 30 weeks with Miles in my tummy!

Physical Status: It hasn't been fun due to the various pregnancy induced ailments (rash on my face, back pain, heartburn, sinus pressure, itching, waddle+squint combo due to pressure when I walk...he feels very low, etc.) and non-pregnancy related "why is this happening now" ailments (kidney stones and gall stones). BUT after experiencing the pain I have, and making it through all right, I do feel more prepared for labor. I can do this! Also, I am SO thankful for when the gall stone pain and kidney pain isn't around so I am enjoying life more in those moments.
Daddy Status: Joe is a champion. We were at Lamaze class last night and he was assessing, with perfect accuracy, the different types of stress balls and back massagers I would like. He told me last night that despite acting calm, cool, and collected, when we went to the hospital for the kidney stones, he was terrified something was really wrong with me or the baby. He said for the first time he thought, "What if I lose one of them?!" It makes me feel so loved to know his level of concern for me and the baby. He is going to be a fantastic dad!
Nursery Status: And we are back at a standstill. Hopefully, we will get some stuff done this weekend.
Countdown Status: Less than 10 weeks until my due date!

Having a stone vs. having a baby

2009-05-18T22:19:00.002-04:00

We had an interesting night last night. And by "interesting" I mean "that sucked!"

It was around 1am and all of a sudden I felt this horrible pain in my abdomen and back. It felt like the worst pain I've ever felt. At first, I thought maybe it was a contraction so I went into the bathroom to try to just breathe through the pain and wait until it subsided. The pain was so bad, I threw up as soon as I got to the bathroom. Still thinking it was a contraction,
I thought, "Just breathe it will be over in a minute". But that didn't happen. I've read that contractions usually last about 90 seconds and it had been 5 minutes without the pain letting up, so I didn't know what to think.

I went out to the bedroom to try to find a comfortable position, praying that the pain would stop soon. Joe was trying to help me by rubbing my back and reminding me to breathe. I kept thinking, we haven't even made it to the Lamaze Class that starts on Wednesday - I don't know what to do! Joe called my sister-in-law, Lauren, who is also pregnant, to get some advice but she didn't pick up. Neither did his mom or my mom. After about 15 or 20 minutes, the pain was getting worse, not better and I thought something might be wrong so we called the doctor and headed out to the hospital.

The hospital is about 10 minutes away and it was the most painful 10 minutes ever. When we got up to the desk, I could barely breathe but said, "I am 28 weeks - I don't think I'm in labor - but I am in a lot of pain." The people were so nice. Joe filled out some form they gave us as i tried to breathe. They had me take a seat to check my vitals and I asked the nice lady questions about contractions. I kept thinking, if this is what they are like now how I am going to do this?!

I felt a little better when she confirmed what I read, that thy last about 90 seconds, "contract", and then let up. This pain didn't fit the description, which made me feel better.

After about 35 minutes of severe pain, it finally started to subside. They took me back, checked the Miles' heart beat and movement (he was doing fine and he impressed everyone with his powerful kicks), gave me an IV, took some blood, a urine sample, and wheeled me to ultra sound. By this time, the pain was dull and I just hoped that they could tell me what happened.

Turns out, I passed a kidney stone. ugh! As if being pregnant isn't hard enough! My father-in-law called me today to welcome me to the club (he has seen his fair share of kidney stones). People liken the pain to giving birth, which is why I was so confused. Luckily, the ultra sound shows that I do not have any more stones in my kidneys right now so hopefully i won't have to go through that again any time soon.

Now, I just have actual labor and delivery to look forward to - and having a baby to show for all your hard work is much better than having a tiny little stone.

Below are some new pictures of Miles from the ultra sound - one picture shows that he has hair!

28 Weeks

2009-05-14T14:34:00.003-04:00

Here I am at 28 Weeks with little Miles in my tummy!

Physical Status: I still feel pretty good. Around 6pm every night my back starts hurting which is no fun. Oh and I waddle.
Daddy Status: Joe did a fabulous job celebrating my first Mother's Day - a massage at the Ritz, a new camera, and a fancy dinner at Houston's! He is super proud of Miles already because at my last doctor visit, the dr. felt my tummy and said that he has quite the powerful kick. He said I should expect to get beat up a bit in this last trimester - Joe's response? "That's my boy!"
Nursery Status: We've made some progress. Room cleaned out. Paint testers purchased and on the wall. Color decided, but not purchased yet. Wall decorations made (I will post pictures later).
Countdown Status: 12 weeks until my due date.

Thoughts on being stuck in the glory days

2009-05-13T21:24:00.002-04:00

Hi my name is Catie and I am a glory days-er.
It's not what you think. I am only living in the past when it comes to one thing: basketball. You see, I grew up in a suburb of Chicago during the years when Michael Jordan ruled the world. We had the 3-peat Championships (1991, 1992, and 1993) followed by a repeat of the 3-peat (1996, 1997, 1998). The city was a blaze and i was glued to the TV. Michael, Scottie, Horace, Dennis - these were household names. My knowledge of basketball started and stopped around those 6 years in Chicago.

1998 was my freshman year of high school and after that I never really watched basketball again. But man was I proud of those 6 championships and I would never hesitate to bring them up whenever people want to talk about basketball. The glory days.

Fast forward 11 years...I am married, living in Orlando and my husband is a huge Orlando Magic fan. His company gives him tickets with pretty good seats. I play on his iphone during the games he drags me to. It's just not the same. But around mid season, the Magic started kicking it in high gear. Dwight Howard is a doll, JJ Reddick looks like he should be a rock star, and Hedo Turkoglu has a really cool name. I actually started to like basketball again and name dropping the '91, '92, '93 championships just didn't have the pizazz it used to.

So, I am now a Magic fan and I am not a stuck in the past as a mid-90's glory days-er.

Go Magic!

A little of everything baby

2009-04-30T11:03:00.000-04:00

The picture below is the bedding I am 98% sure I am going to order for Miles' room. I ordered the pillow just to make sure I liked the colors since I've only seen pictures online. I was a little disappointed in the green color - it is a little more "forrest green" than I like. I was thinking I would paint one wall one of the bold colors, but I think green is out now.

I have a ton of projects I want to do before the baby comes and I'm frustrated that I am exhausted at the end of the day to actually get anything done.

Must get done projects:
1. Clean baby room - clear out rest of stuff in closet
2. Paint baby room (Joe will be doing this one)
3. Order various things that will take a while to get in (aka bedding, crib, etc.)
4. Finish registering at Target

Fun projects that aren't as essential:
1. Turn old, ugly box into super cute toy box
2. Create wall art - thinking something with circles to go with dot theme
3. Organize Miles' closet, pick out new organization tools - I love a good closet

In other news, I have thought of two movies that could qualify as good movies to watch as distractions during labor. The first one is Dan In Real Life. I remember that when I watched this last year it made me super happy because of how the family interacted with eachother. It made me excited about family. This is a good thing to focus on during contractions.
The other movie that I think would be a good choice is called Once. The music in this movie brought me back to memories of sitting in my dear friend, Emily's living room, playing music until all hours of the night. These are good memories and would be a good distraction movie.

If anyone has any good advice, techniques, tricks of the birthing trade, please send them my way! If you can't post a comment on here because you are not blog savy, you can email me at phelanct@hotmail.com or catch me on facebook under Catie 'Phelan' Loveless.

I was up last night, with a good case of the "oh my word, I am actually going to have to deliver this baby in less than 14 weeks and I am terrified." There was crying involved. And a confused husband who called me this morning to make sure I was okay. I am. And I know that I can do this. I just want to be as prepared as possible, so send me your suggestions!

Verbal Status Updates or VSU's

2009-04-28T10:23:00.000-04:00

Ah, status updates. I usually update my status on facebook once every few days. I usually feel a small sense of trepidation before I make an announcement to the world, so I don't do it that often. Plus, I have this feeling that everything I am doing/thinking is not really all that worthy of a written update. Technically, my updates should always be "Catie is on facebook" or "Catie is updating her status" because those are most true to form.

Last night, I was situating myself for bed, which is a feat in it of itself because our bed is really high off the ground and getting in and out with this belly is a masterful art of aerobics, but after I catapulted myself on the bed, I made an announcement, "This pillow is not working" and a few minutes later, I made another one, "I need TUMS." I was not saying this anyone in particular, namely my husband because he was the only one in the room (I hope), but I was simply updating the world on my status. Genius! I realized for the first time that though I am not great at the facebook status update, I am the master of The Verbal Status Update (I've capitalized those words for emphasis). Yes! The Verbal Status Update! I am constantly doing it! This type of communication occurs purely in spoken form and is directed toward everyone and no one within earshot, all at the same time. I have a feeling I have done this my whole life, but since I have been pregnant the rate at which I am verbally updating my status is off the charts.

Some common verbal updates these days:
"This baby is moving a lot."
"I'm so lop-sided"
"Alright, time to put the feet up."
"This baby is so low, I feel like he is going to fall out."
"I am out of breathe and I just walked to the kitchen."
"And I have to pee again."

Sometimes I just grunt, moan, or sigh. These also count as verbal updates.

The privileged few who get to hear my verbal status updates (or VSU) are, of course, Joe, and the wonderful people I work with - my dear friends, Sarah and Kaity. I bet they do not find my VSUs as amusing as I do, so I think I will try to make them more entertaining for their sake. Sorry guys - funnier VSUs coming your way!

Cheers!

Guest Blogger: I give you Joe Loveless

2009-04-27T21:30:00.000-04:00

[I have been sitting here for the past 45 minutes unable to come up with what I want to write about. And then I looked to my left. All the most rockin' blogs use the best trump card when they ain't got nuthin to say. What is this trump card, you ask: Guest Blogger. Thus, comes the inspiration from my left. Joe is sitting to my left and I am going to let him guest blog. He told me he would but only if I let him post without seeing what he is writing. It's a risky play but I am going to hand this one over to my loving husband. Joe, take it away:]

Thanks Catie,

I would like to take this moment to share with readers what its like to have Catie as a pregnant wife. Now, I cannot compare her to my other pregnant wife's, because that just wouldn't be fair. Instead, I will give you my rookie, first time father opinion. First question: Is it really necessary to take so many pictures of your belly? This is probably my fault, because of the amount of times I comment on how freakin cute she is, because really, she is the cutest pregnant lady I have ever seen. In fact before her, I had never seen a pregnant lady and thought.... wow, thats a good lookin pregnant lady. But come on! My photo-booth gallery is getting clogged with Catie belly photos.

Now, you might be privately thinking, "wow, how conceded she must be to be taking all these pictures of herself. I know, I was thinking the same thing. Then I started looking through the rest of my photo library, and you know what I found...

Ok, so maybe she is not so bad after all. Gosh, cut her some slack... and anyone else who loves to stare at themselves in the viewfinder to say "cheese".

Now, she is pregnant and has some sort of a cop out for taking all of those photos. So what is my excuse? I am still working on that. Maybe its that I get lonely, so I to take a picture of myself and pretend I am hanging out with my twin. Maybe its that I think when other people are in a picture with me, they cramp my style. Not really sure, but I would like to hear your prognosis. What is the psychological reasoning behind me taking pictures of myself in random places, with no purpose?

My Dad

2009-04-21T16:08:00.000-04:00

My dad is a numbers guy. A high school math teacher, actually. He has been for 35 years. Since 1976 he has been on faculty at Glenbard South High School in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. This year, on June 9, 2009 he is retiring.

I have put together some pretty impressive numbers looking back on his career:

Number of students he's taught over 35 years: 50,000
Year Glenbard South was established: 1972
Year my dad joined the faculty: 1976
Number of teachers or administrators that have been there as long as he has: 0
Number of school days in his career: I think 6,825 days (but my math could be off)
Address of the school he’s driven to every morning: 23W200 Butterfield Rd. Glen Ellyn, Illinois 60137
Number of times he’s driven to that same building: over 10,000 times
Number of children he’s had since being a teacher at Glenbard South: 4, plus 2 step-children. (Sean: 1980, me: 1983, Patrick: 1986, and Mike: 1989
Number of grandchildren: first one is on the way! Time he usually arrives at school: 6am
Number of math jokes my dad has in his arsenal: at least 15
Number of times my dad has shaved off his beard since 1976: 1 time and it wasn’t a good idea.
Number of gray hairs my dad has gotten from teaching: too many to count (I like to think those came from his students rather than me and my brothers)
Number of lesson plans my dad has put together: over 7,000
Number of pens my dad keeps in his front shirt pocket: usually 2, at least 1
Number of papers he’s graded: 1,000,000
Number of graduations he’s seen: 33
Number of times we bumped into a former student at a restaurant or gas station: at least 78
Number of times I went to “Take Your Daughter to Work Day”: 6
Number of times I roller skated in gym class at “Take Your Daughter to Work Day”: 3
Number of sports my dad coached: 2 (football and softball)
Number of sporting events he kept score at or went to: over 1,000
Number of softball practices I went to: over 500
Number of pop flys I’ve seen my dad hit at softball practices: probably 10,000
Number of pictures of me and my brothers in my dad’s office: at least 10
Year my dad became the Math Deparment Chair: 1989
Number of years my dad had a cubicle in the teachers office: 13 years
Number of pranks my dad pulled on other teachers: probably 10
Number of years my dad has had the big office in the back: 20 years
Number of times my dad has dealt with a crazy parent: probably 172 times
Number of students my dad has tutored: more than 10,000 (including me, my brothers, cousins, and numerous friends)
Number of times I've rolled my eyes and complained when my dad was trying to tutor me: at least 25
Number of times my dad will probably cry while reading this: maybe 1
Number of times he will laugh: I am shooting for 18

Dad - I hope you feel honored and celebrated by your contribution in the past 35 years of your life. I look forward to you having a well deserved retirement. I love you bunches. -Catie

Above: My dad, my brothers Mike, Patrick, Sean, me, and my Grandma. Christmas 2004

Above: My dad with some of his siblings. (Mary, Sandy, Sue, Glen, Art, and Tom)

Town Hall for Hope

2009-04-17T14:01:00.000-04:00

There were few things that used to make me more nervous than the dreaded topic of money.

That was before I met my husband.

I remember early in our dating relationship catching on to the fact that he was confident and even excited talking about the topic of money management. He read books about stewardship and loved budgets. Money was always a topic similar to death to me. But because my husband had such a great foundation of good money management, he slowly taught me how this topic doesn't have to be scary. I remember sitting down with a finacial advisor before we got married and he asked us this question, "What is your financial goal?" I thought he was wanting a dollar amount, so my brain went into a crazy tail spin because I am not good with numbers. Fortunatly, he cut me off before I embarrassed myself by spitting out an unrealisticly high or pathetically low income amount. He said, "Your financial goal should always be: freedom."

What he meant was, "Don't have have month left at the end of our money" or don't spend what we don't have. This was a good first step in having financial freedom.

A year ago we took our money planning to a whole new level. We took Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace course. It was awesome! I highly recommend that everyone take this course.

If you haven't taken it, you should, BUT in the mean time - Dave Ramsey is hosting a free event called Town Hall for Hope to address the current economic situtation in America. It is next Thursday night, April 23rd, at 8pm at over 6,000 locations across the US. Go to www.townhallforhope.com and find a location near you! If you live in Orlando, Discovery Church, www.discoverychurch.org, will be one of the locations available. Come one, come all! See you there!

24 Weeks

2009-04-15T21:13:00.000-04:00

Here I am at 24 weeks with little Miles in my tummy.

Physical Status: I feel great! I love the second trimester.

Daddy Status: Joe is really amazing. It is a whole new level of love I feel for him when he talks to Miles. I woke up the other day to him whispering to my stomach, "Miles, this is your daddy. You love me more than you love mommy."

Nursery Status: Not close. Joe has made it his personal mission to clean out the guest room so that I have a clean space to then create the baby's room. I am very appreciative of this - even though I am itching to get organized.

Countdown Status: 16 weeks until my due date.

Labor Movie

2009-04-15T20:57:00.000-04:00

Spoiler Alert: Do not read this post if haven't seen Marley and Me. I will be sharing pertinent details to the movie.

Okay, so I read in one of my pregnancy books that I should pick out a movie or two that I can watch during the first part of labor before I go to the hospital. I hadn't seen the Marley and Me yet but I thought it would make a good "labor movie" because I love dogs.

Wrong.

Joe brought the movie home last night and here are several reasons why this is not a good movie to watch while having increasingly painful contractions before you give birth to your first child:

1. She has a miscarriage! Not appropriate for the situation, ya think?

2. She has another baby really soon after having the first one. And then another one really soon after that one. That is stressful to think about. It is a tad overwhelming to think about the task at hand, let alone thinking I may have to do this again soon.

3. The dog dies. This is sad.

I told Joe that I am glad we watched this because I was going to have it be my "labor movie". When I explained to him what a "labor movie" actually was, he casually said, "oh that's easy...it should be Ocean's 11". I love my husband.

Anyone have any good suggestions?

Email from my brother, titled "Boyeeee."

2009-04-14T10:06:00.000-04:00

Below is an email I received from my brother, Patrick, when we found out we were having a boy. It makes me smile so I figured I would share it on here.

Catie,

Name the child whatever you will, have him refer to me (and others) by whichever name you want, dress him up in whatever you desire, teach him the lessons you have learned and are still working to unravel the meaning of, teach him whatever skills the heck you want to - but do not, for any reason, and under no circumstance, let the child wrestle. Please. Also, don't allow him to quite piano lessons for figure skating, and feel free to punch him square in the face if he reminds you of me. Do any, all, some, or none of these things, and you will be a great mother. Which is to say, follow your gut, and revel in the fact that you are having a boy. It is a brave thing you are doing. Being a mother is brave I think. Well done. A boy. You have grown a boy inside of you... Fact. Wonderful, joyous, inspiring fact. I would have written sooner, but I just checked my facebook for the first time since being back in chicago. Regardless of timing I'm exceedingly proud of and happy for you and joe! (and there's the exclamation point!) ! "It" has officially become "he". And he will adore you, as I do. I love you Catie.

With love and much respect,Patrick

PS. Don't actually punch your child in the face. I'm really not all that bad once you get to know me.

PPS. Actually, don't punch *any* child in the face, whether or not he or she is yours. And also, have a great day today, then have a great weekend, then wait a little bit, and then have a great kid.

Catie's note: His refernce to not allowing my child to wrestle is because he had a severe back injury due to wrestling. Also, yes, he actually quit piano to take figure skating lessons when he was little. hilarious.

Christian Star Sightings

2009-04-09T12:05:00.000-04:00

One night at dinner, while Joe and I were on the cruise, a couple was seated at the table next to us. To my untrained Christian star sighting eye, the man looked a lot like Andy Stanley. I inconspicuously mentioned this to Joe, who loves Andy Stanley in a way any normal man would admire their childhood superhero well after the age it was considered cool. (You know what I mean, when I told him that I thought it was Andy, his heart started racing and he couldn’t stop thinking of what he would say…except that he had to try to appear cool as to not draw attention to the fact that he was excited.)
Turns out it wasn’t Andy Stanley, but those brief few moments left my husband all a flutter.

I have a friend who used to work at Willow Creek in South Barrington and she would get all flustered every time she saw Bill Hybels in the hallway. We would laugh about this for hours.

I like to think of myself as cooler than my husband and my friend. I am just egotistical enough that I like to imagine when I meet impressive people that I could care less and really they are impressed to meet me. Have you played this game? When I was in high school, my two best friends and I would try to pump ourselves up before going to into a social event where we felt intimidated by literally saying out loud, “Ok, remember, we are the coolest girls in here.” Ha! If you Google my name, I am not even sure anything comes up that is actually me. If fact, I just checked…it asks “Do you mean Katie Loveless?” No, Google, I do not mean Katie Loveless.

I try my darndest (and sometimes succeed) to make my job sound important when people ask what I do. Various answers: “I work with a private equity company. We build businesses.” (Common Response: Wow, you must be important). Sometimes I’ll say, “I do implementation of health benefits for government contractors.” (Common Response: Wow, implementation is a big word) But rarely to I offer, “I work in an office.” (Common Response: Wow, are you like Pam or Phyllis?) Rock star stuff, really. But is my worth really tied to my number of links on Google or how impressive my job sounds or who I’ve met or know in what circles? The answer, my fine feathered friends, is no.

My worth is tied to something much harder to explain. It is something internal and eternal. My worth is tied to something that has nothing and everything to do with me. It is tied to the fact that Jesus likes me. He thinks that there is something eternally beautiful going on in the inside of me. He moves me in that direction. And that is what gives me my worth. It doesn’t matter to Jesus if Google knows me or how impressive my job sounds. Jesus doesn’t care if I am best friends with Bill Hybels or Bono. He cares about me, who I really am, what is going on in my heart, how I am becoming more like him.

As we are about to celebrate Easter, I am happy to remember this.

Flowers

2009-04-07T12:20:00.000-04:00

I love flower arrangements! Since Easter is coming up, I figured I would post some beautiful centerpieces for your inspiration and enjoyment!

Last weekend was quite busy with birthday celebrations. Friday night we celebrated my mother-in-law's birthday and then on Sunday we had a pool party for my niece, Taylor's first birthday. My mother-in-law, Caron, broke her ankle the week before and had to have surgery. David, my father-in-law, was a little overwhelmed with being her nurse, planning her birthday party, and handling several emergencies at the church (he pastors Discovery Church in Orlando). He texted me to see if I could help with the party planning but instead I booted him off birthday duty, happy to take over the planning. Caron does such a wonderful job making our birthdays a celebration so I was very excited to make her birthday special for her. I spent Thursday evening arranging and re-arranging flower centerpieces for her party. Such fun! I chose red, yellow, and pink tulips and placed them in a very wide mouth vase. I had some other white flowers (I forget their name) as filler so that the bouquet would look super full. I don't know if we got any pictures of them...I will check one my husband's iphone later to see if I can post them. In the mean time, anyone have pictures of their own beautiful table decorations for Easter or other events? I would love to see them!

Zwaggle

2009-04-06T15:57:00.000-04:00

http://www.zwaggle.com/ is this new website you should check out if you are a parent. Basically, it allows you to swap your baby stuff with people all around the US. I haven't used it yet, but my sister-in-law is going to put some of her gently used baby girl stuff for some baby boy stuff, since she is expecting in July. From what I gather, you post some of your stuff and receive Zwaggle Points. Then, you can use your points to "purchase" other things that have been posted. No money is exchanged. It is just like a friend saying, "oh I have a baby swing I am not using anymore...here you go."

The website says:
Zwaggle is a national network of parents who have come together to share.
It's simple: You receive Zwaggle points (or Zoints) by giving your gently used things to other families, then use those Zoints to obtain "new" things for your family.
Sound financially smart? Ecologically responsible? Like a fun way to provide for your kids? It is!

If you try it, let me know!!

Miles

2009-04-02T15:03:00.000-04:00

Why did we choose the name Miles? Well, read my post below for the method behind the madness but there are also personal and sentimental reasons I have thought of – I like things to have meaning – so here it is:

1. Miles is the name of the jazz legend, Miles Davis. Every time we tell people the name of the baby, they say, "Oh, like Miles Davis?" And no, we did not name him after Miles Davis - I am not cool enough to have that kind of connection to Miles Davis. BUT the name does evoke that kind of jazz feel due to that specific namesake and one of my all time favorite books is called Blue Like Jazz - I went and re-read some of the quotes from the book on jazz, here are two that are particularly moving:

"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But I was outside the Baghdad Theater in Portland one night when I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes.

After that I liked jazz music.

Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way."

I have thought this before about good teachers. One of my professors from college, Dr. Jerry Root, one of the best teachers I know, said it this way once, “To teach is to love something publicly.” I always liked that. My dad is a teacher, a math teacher, and when I was little I would go to "Take Your Daughter to Work Day." Math has never been my forte, but I remember watching my dad get so excited about what he was teaching. I would tease him for being a nerd and would roll my eyes at his endless math jokes (he literally will show you a math equation to "prove" that women are evil). But I do think that my dad's enthusiasm for numbers rubbed off on me and is why I currently enjoy the parts of my job were I make spreadsheets and get numbers to match. Now, I am not a teacher, in the sense that it is my profession, but the think this applies to parenting, as well. Miles will watch Joe and me throughout the years and whatever we love publicly; we will show him the way to love it as well. Here are some things I have watched somebody love before I have loved it myself: God, snorkeling, drawing, drinking wine, poetry, and yes, even jazz music.

"There is something beautiful about a billion stars held steady by a God who knows what He is doing. (They hang there, the stars, like notes on a page of music, free-form verse, silent mysteries swirling in the blue like jazz.) And as I lay there, it occurred to me that God is up there somewhere. Of course, I had always known He was, but this time I felt it, I realized it, the way a person realizes they are hungry or thirsty. The knowledge of God seeped out of my brain and into my heart. I imagined Him looking down on this earth, half angry because His beloved mankind had cheated on Him, had committed adultery, and yet hopelessly in love with her, drunk with love for her."

I seriously think I could write a thousand quotes from this book because I love it so much and I know it is a stretch to tie my unborn son’s name to it just because it has the word Jazz in the title but I don’t even care.

2. Back to the name Miles – and here is another stretch, but stick with me on this one. Pregnant, hormonal woman can find meaning in meatballs and begin to weep. Fact. They also can begin to weep if their husband looks at them funny but that is another story for another day. So, Miles…Well, I read that some people choose their baby name because it has some significance to their story…for example, they name their kid Austin because they met in Austin, TX. Well, a significant part of Joe and my story is that we met and began to fall in love at a distance – he living in Orlando and me in Chicago. Now, believe me, I am well aware of how this can take a sharp left turn and enter corny-ville. And I will get it out on table by saying all the cliche things my brothers would come up with to tease me about this, such as singing the lyrics, "I would walk 500 miles, and I would walk 500 more just to be the man who walks a thousand miles to fall down at your door. Da da dum, da da dum, da da dum, da da dum, dum diddlelum diddlelum..." If I lost you, those are the lyrics from "Five Hundred Miles," by The Proclaimers. You can look it up on itunes.

3. Another reason I like the name Miles - I heard it in high school and have just liked it since then. period. and that's the real reason I put it on my list, simply because I liked it and had it stored in my mind as a cool name.

4. Miles means "soldier" and "merciful" which is cool.

So that is it for now. You can bet that I will be up one night at 3 am thinking about my baby and coming up with a hundred more reasons to add significance and meaning to his entering the world. good mothers do this or at least pregant, hormonal women do this. cheers!

A mom I admire

2009-03-31T10:31:00.001-04:00

My sister-in-law, Lauren, (pictured below) and I have spent the past two evenings at Babies R Us registering for our new little ones to come. So fun! Lauren, Rebecca (our other sister-in-law), and I are all having baby boys within weeks of eachother. Crazyiness will insue in the Loveless family - doubling the grandchild count in just one month! Since Laur is a veteran mommy (her little girl, Taylor, turns 1 on Monday!) she showed me the ropes of the first time mom essentials.

It has been so fun getting to spend this time being pregnant together. And I am super excited that we will get to raise our boys together:)

Lauren is such a good mom - here are some things I've observed that I really admire about her parenting:

1. She is easygoing but prepared. She always makes sure Taylor has everything she needs. (One good tip: She keeps a bottled water in her diaper bag with the formula so making a bottle is easy in a pinch.)
2. She celebrates Tay and makes holidays, family get togethers, birthdays, seasons etc. special and meaningful. (We are having a pool party for Taylor's first birthday!)
3. She celebrates being a mom. She doesn't make it seem like a burden or harp on how hard it is.
4. She makes sure her relationship with Jon a priority. She knows that a key to being a great parent is continuing to work at having a great marriage.
5. She gets dressed in the morning. This may sound silly but sometimes it is so easy to fall into a slump of just not showering, wearing whatever and slouching around the house. This is okay sometimes but for the most part, I think it helps your additude and outlook on the day if you get ready for the day. I think this makes a difference in how you parent, as well, and also the example you set for you kids. If they see mom as an unmotivated slouch day after day, that sends a certain message. Don't get my wrong, I enjoy the occasional pajama day, just as much as the next girl, but I think this whole getting ready for the day thing is something I will put into practice during my mommy days.

I would love to hear about mom's you admire and what you admire about them! Leave me some comments with your thoughts!

The Name Game

2009-03-29T14:42:00.000-04:00

Prior to going on our cruise, Joe and I had our ultrasound appointment to find out whether we were having a boy or a girl. It's a BOY! We were both shocked because SO many of our friends and family are having boys, it seemed like the coin would fall on girl for us. We are so thrilled to add another little boy to the pack!

While on the cruise, we spent one afternoon sitting on the balcony coming up with a name for our new little tike. It was so fun! We each had been compiling our own lists, so the first thing we did was combine the list to have one main list of names we both liked. Then, we separated the names into "Ones we like for First Names" and "Ones we like for Middle Names". Here is that list:

First Names:
Miles
Jude
Coner
Carter
James
Parker

Middle Names:
Elliot
Royce
Jace
Rocket (Joe's mom suggested this name and he thought "his little Wheaton wife" would never go for it...to his surprise, I told him we could add it to the middle name list)
Anders
Barrett
Plus any of the other first names could also be middle names.

Then, we did a million combinations of all the names and settled on 11 full names that we liked. After that, we each rated the names 1 through 6 (6 being the best) and then compared lists:
1. Coner Royce Loveless (Joe: 6, Catie: 1)
2. Coner Barrett Loveless (Joe: 5, Catie: 1.5)
3. Jude Barrett Loveless (Joe: 3, Catie: 2.5)
4. Parker Elliot Loveless (Joe: 4, Catie: 4.5)
5. Parker Jace Loveless (Joe: 4.9, Catie: 1)
6. Parker Barrett Loveless (Joe: 4.5, Catie: 3.5)
7. Miles Rocket Loveless (Joe: 5, Catie: 4)
8. Miles Barrett Loveless (Joe: 3, Catie: 6)
9. Miles Parker Loveless (Joe: 6, Catie: 6)
10. Carter Elliot Loveless (Joe: 2, Catie: 3)
11. Carter Barrett Loveless (Joe: 3, Catie 1)

We both gave MILES PARKER LOVELESS a 6 out of 6! We tried on the name for a few days and it stuck.

Cruise

2009-03-29T14:16:00.000-04:00

Joe and I went on our first cruise ever a few weeks ago. It's one of the great things about living in Florida - you don't have to spend money on plane tickets to get to an amazing cruise vacation, you just drive to the coast! We decided to carve out this vacation because we realized it would be our last vacation as just our little family of two. While booking the trip, I learned that most cruise lines don't let you go on the trip if you are more than 24 weeks pregnant. We literally only had one week that worked - my 20th week with our little bun! Below are a few pictures from our adventures in St. Thomas, Dominican Republic, Tortola, and the Bahamas:

Do not admit fault

2009-01-29T16:21:00.000-05:00

I was in a car accident yesterday. I have only been a few accidents in my lifetime so, intially, I wasn't exactly sure about the protocol. I awkwardly got out of my car to see if the lady in the other car was okay. She was feisty and didn't get out of her car and got on her phone right away. She looked like she knew what she was supposed to do in this situtation so I followed her lead, got back into my car, and got on the phone. I didn't know who to call, so I called my husband. He was at a retreat and didn't pick up. I didn't want to look like I didn't know what to do so I kept the phone to my ear and ruffled around looking for my insurance and registration. Luckily, my insurance card has directions on the back for what to do if you get into an accident! What a fabulous, thoughtful idea! Thank you, Esurance! Here is what it said:

1. Seek medical assistance, if necessary.
It was just a fender bender, no air bags or anything, so I didn't think this was a necessary action step. Today though, I am quite sore, and wish I got checked out. I would feel better if I just heard the baby's heartbeat, which I am sure is beating like the little speed beater it is, but when I called the doctor today to see if I could just come in to hear the baby's heartbeat they told me to go to the ER. I hate the emergency room. I know I am just being paranoid. Mothers do this. I think I will wait until my appointment next week, unless I freak out later.

2. Report the accident to the police.
I have to admit, I did not want to do this. And I skipped this action step too because I figured the accident-pro in the other car would call them. Which she did. But the real reason I didn't want to do this is because I just went through an ordeal with the police wrongfully suspending my license because they said I didn't pay a ticket that I, in fact, did pay but I still had to go to court and pay fines! So, I am not happy with the police and I knew, since I rear-ended the car in front of me, that the old copper would just give me a ticket. (Which he did). Thanks for showing up 40 minutes after the accident, sitting in your car for 45 minutes and then slapping me with a $135 ticket. You've been so helpful, Mr. Officer.

3. Do not admit fault.
I think its hilarious that my insurance card actually has this written on the back of it! If I had written a card giving myself directions as a child, I would include this on it too. I can hear my mother yelling at us, "Okay, one of you left a the popcicle wrappers on the floor by the tv and I want to know who!" Never admit fault - one of the younger brothers will take the blame!

There were other helpful directions like how to report a claim and such, but I can't think of anything funny or entertaining to write under those, so I think I will stop here. All and all, it wasn't the worst thing in the world, just mildly annoying and I will be without a car for a few days. But thankfully, thats what we have insurance for.

12 Weeks Coming

2009-01-18T15:35:00.000-05:00

This blog post is a long time coming...well, actually 12-weeks to be exact. Joe and I are 12 weeks pregnant tomorrow:)

It is funny how things don't really go as you imagine them. I had imagined, prior to being pregnant, that I would write every day, everything I was feeling, capturing every moment. But alas, prior to being pregnant, I didn't factor in that I would be sick as a dog, barely feeling up to showering or holding a conversation beyond moaning on the couch. So, this blog space has gone untended.

But thank you, to those of you who gently encouraged me to get to writing. Thank you for wanting to hear. I think I am ready to write now. Let me start from the beginning.

Joe and I were trying for about 4 months to get pregnant but stopped because I went to the doctor and was told that I needed to have surgery due to some intestinal problems. Drats. The doctor said his office would call to schedule the surgery. But the scheduling process took forever because I played phone tag with his receptionist for several weeks. Well, in the meantime, there was one time when I guess you could say we weren't so "careful", if you catch my drift. One time! But I didn't think anything of it because the other months we had tried diligently to no avail.

Well, I was at work. It was a Monday. I was in the middle of talking to a co-worker when I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. I thought, weird, but nothing else. Then it happened again. Hmmm. Since we weren't trying anymore, I stopped tracking my period and wasn't sure when I was due. I had an inkling the week before that I should have gotten it by then, but took a pregnancy test and it had come back negative. But now, there were sudden, weird urges to puke. I called Joe at lunch and told him I was going to pick up another test. Since we've been married, there have been several times when I thought for sure I was pregnant and can't even tell you how many tests I've wasted. Needless to say, Joe didn't take inquiry very seriously.

I waited until I got home to take the test mostly because I didn't really think I was pregnant. Joe was already home and asked me if I took the test. I said I just got too busy at work the rest of the day. He laughed and bet me $20 I wasn't pregnant. I didn't take the bet because I didn't really think I was either. My words exactly, "Babe, I know I'm not pregnant, I just want to be sure." We are having this hilarious exchange yelling through the door of the bathroom as I was taking the test.

I open the door of the bathroom as I see the test start to take effect - and those of you who have taken a pregnancy test will know what I am talking about when i say that I was so used to seeing it come back negative, I glanced down and saw the "minus" or "-" start to fill in I just figured it was negative. So I swung the door of the bathroom open to tell Joe and I glanced down one more time...and saw the "plus" sign start to fill in. Again, my words exactly, "Babe, I think this is the symbol...I think this is the pregnancy symbol!" Joe comes running over as we fumble to open the instructions and try to compare our test to the drawing. Suspended breath. "Take another test," Joe says with a half frightened/half unbelieving smile. Well, i didn't think I was going to have to take another one and I used up all my pee on the first test! So for the next 5 minutes, Joe sat on the couch while I paced back and forth drinking a glass of water.

I don't know what was going through my wonderful husband's mind, but the next words out of his mouth were, "Man, I hope it's triplets." (It's not! Thank the Lord!) He then proceeds to start chanting, "Triplets, triplets, triplets!" I shake my head at him and try to pee again. No can do. So we decide to go to dinner and pick up more tests on the way home. But first, Joe has the presence of mind to snap these pictures.

We ended up buying a super pack of tests - the really nice, digital kind. They all came back "pregnant." :)

Short Update

2008-11-09T13:59:00.000-05:00

I haven't posted in a while so I figured I should hop on here and give it a whirl.

The past couple of weeks have been fun - My brother, Sean, and his wife, Sarah, came to stay with us for a week. Here is a rundown of some of the highlights:

1. Playing poker and making mojitos!

2. Disney - Epcot's Food and Wine Festival

3. Hanging out drinking coffee in the mornings together

4. St. Augustine's for the day - shopped the town and went to the beach

5. Going to a good jazz club for drinks

I will post some pictures in a bit. But all in all, it was a good time:)

More to come...

Some of my Favs

2008-09-26T15:26:00.000-04:00

Our good friend and trusty neighbor, Travis Hull, is working on his photography portfolio and did this fun photo shoot with the hubs and I. Here are some of my favs:

Some Projects

2008-09-20T16:28:00.000-04:00

Part of the fun of making things is to share them, sell them, or give them away. Since I am still in the discovery stage of all my projects (aka discovering if I can do them) and I don't quite feel its the quite the time to sell them or give them away...I figured it would keep me motivated to share with you some of the projects I have been working on:

This is a little wooden sign I painted. It says, "Just married" and has a cute little couple on it. I don't know why I made it because I've been married for two years, but maybe some newly engaged couple will enjoy this little sign one day.

This is just fabric. But it is important because it is my FIRST EVER fabric purchase. I have not sewn since 8th grade home economics but want to make this beauty into a table cloth, perhaps.

These are a couple cute little hair clips for babies or little girls. I made them because I saw a sweet clip my neice had in her hair. Her mom said it was really expensive and I thought I could make it. So these are my attempts.

More clips!!

This is my first ever watercolor painting!!! I painted it on vacation with my mother-in-law. I don't really know what to do with it now...

This is an unfinished picture box (see my first finished on in the picture below). It is a thick piece of pine that my step father helped cut and sand. Then I stained it this green color. I am fixing to paint a phrase across it and put a back on the hole in the middle to make it into a picture frame. I have not yet decided on a phrase to paint. I like these:

"I'll love you, dear, I'll love you till China and Africa meet and the river jumps over the mountains and the salmon sing in the street. - W.H. Auden"

"I'll carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you so my dear...) - e.e. cummings

"I was born to catch dragons in their dens and pick flowers. To tell tales and laugh away the morning. To drift and dream like a lazy stream and walk barefoot across sunshine days. - James Kavanaugh

"Hope is the thing with feathers that perches on the soul and sings the tune with ever knowing the words and never stops at all. - Emily Dickenson

Please tell me which one you like the best....I'd love feed back or if you have on that you think would be great.

This is the first picture box I tried. It says, "There is never quite so lovely a view as when perched in a tree next to you." It is actually a phrase I made up because the picture in the frame is of my two dear friends, Emily and Abby, and was taken in our favorite tree on front campus at Wheaton College.

SO, there you have it. Those are some of my projects. It is good for me to see that the progress I am making and that I am actually creating. I went to Anthropologie today and was so inspired to keep going. So now I must!

Fun with the neice

2008-09-17T21:04:00.001-04:00

These are from when joe and i babysat the other night. It is one of my favorite things to hang out with Taylor and my sister-in-law, Lauren! joe and I are trying to get pregnant so we can get Tay some little cousins!!!

Tid Bits

2008-09-17T21:04:00.000-04:00

Joe and i are snuggled up on the couch right now. He is sick (and so adorable)...i love taking care of him when he is a poor sick baby.

It feels like Fall to me in this moment. It might be because we are both wearing sweatshirts, candles are lit, and its really cool in the house. I love Fall.

Here are some things I am excited about in the upcoming days:

1. Tomorrow joe is having a creative team meeting at our house to talk about planning the Christmas services at the church...I am making Christmas cookies to get everyone in the spirit!

2. We have our first softball game on Friday night - we just bought new gloves and we are so excited!