Hot Town, Summer in the City

Going to see the monuments never gets old.
Got some solid shots here, but the next ones will be even better because YOU will be in them!

Dear Baby Girl,

After thirteen years in the DC metro, I have pretty much nailed down the DC tourist circuit—I can navigate the monuments, museums, and historical sites like no other. However, it is a rare opportunity that I get to play hostess to DC virgins. Your Great Aunt Tricia, cousin Casie and cousin Woodrow gave me such an opportunity. I made certain that Tricia and Casie hit at least one Smithsonian, all the major monuments, and of course the White House. Baby Woodrow got to see the White House, but he missed out on the others as we did not want to overwhelm him at such a young age. Perhaps he can come back and see the monuments with his first cousin thrice removed (YOU), and you can take over as tour guide.

Anyhow, whence monument-ing, and things of the like, your mother is notorious for one thing: misjudging distance. I believe that this folly originated in my collegiate years of running cross country. We ran all over the city at a rather brisk pace and thus I think everything is closer than it is. When I say something is a block away your Great Aunt Joanne will ask me, “A real block or a Taylor block?” I swear I do not do this on purpose. I am just trying to maximize sight-seeing in a short amount of time, and that requires an immense amount of walking. If such walking is not met with haste, then well… it can take a while. You, Baby Girl, will not have to worry about this as you will have a smooth ride in my jogger stroller and we shall zip around town uninhibited.

In any case, despite my likely pushing everyone to trek just a little too far, and your father pointing out my overly ambitious itinerary on numerous occasions, I think we all had a great weekend (at least, I know I did). Casie and Tricia hit up the American History Smithsonian (my favorite one) on Friday while I was at work, and we all did our monument tour at dusk on Saturday after the shower. Tricia officially took her first cab ride, her first uber ride and her first metro ride, so it was certainly a weekend of firsts. The DC cab did not disappoint as he was a complete and utter lunatic, jibber jabbing away about politics. Might as well give the Mainers the full city life experience.

On Sunday we had brunch in DC and then moseyed on over to the White House (me: “oh it’s just a couple blocks!” Joanne: “Yeah right!” Dad: “You’re insane”). The brunch was lovey and I have to hand it to Woodrow. He is one of the most well behaved, pleasant, adorable kids I have ever met (I suppose this is really handing it to his mother Emily, and not to him… I have to give the mother credit for these things as I intend to take it for myself with you). He always had a smile on his face, even throughout the baby shower, and Dad was happy to have an element of testosterone in our crew, albeit a young one. He will be less than two years older than you so if I can get Emily back down here (which I intend to) you are sure to be buddies. I also need to get Casie’s son Colby down here as he is a history buff and had his mother facetime him at all the major sights. He surely needs to see them in the flesh.

… I digress. As I was saying, it was a very fun and exciting weekend for me. I loved having everyone in town and I miss the Morri very much as I seldom get to see them these days. Everyone has their own family and living in different parts of the country makes it difficult. HOWEVER, I do intend to take you to Maine for Thanksgiving this year and we will make the rounds so you can meet everyone and I can tell you about it later because you won’t remember meeting them at two months old. It’s not a big deal. They will remember meeting you and they’ll have to remember you in the womb because it was commemorated with their first trip to DC (at least some of them anyway).

Love,

Mom

P.S. Does White House get capitalized? I wasn’t sure about that but I feel as though it is a proper noun so I capitalized it. Perhaps your grammar will have surpassed mine by the time that you read this.

Top Left: Tricia and Casey from the top of the Lincoln.
In case Great Uncle Garry doubts her, she did ascend all of the steps! No elevator!
Bottom Left and Middle: Emily and Woodrow. I LOVE the picture in the middle.
Look at him looking straight into the camera and smiling! Smarty knows how to work it.
Bottom Right: You, me, and Grandma.

The weekend activities tuckered Dad right out.
He did an excellent job as co-host, and is back in his mesh shorts.
Sigh. It was so nice to see him wear real clothes for a couple of days.
Bottom Left: Collection of baby shower cards.
Bottom Middle: Dad sucking the helium out of your balloons. Like a mature adult.
Bottom Right: Dad folding your newly acquired tiny socks. I found this funny.

Showered

Look at that setup! Love it.

Dear Baby Girl,

If you ever are in need of some top tier party planning talent please call Lynn. She is one of my best friends in the area, and when she offered to throw me a baby shower it sounded like the best decision I could make. She did not disappoint.

The shower took place at Screwtop Wine Bar, which is your father and my local watering hole (incredibly local, as it is exactly one block from our house). While Arlington is notorious for its extremely high restaurant turnover (due to high rent and a difficult-to-please consumer base), I suspect that Screwtop will survive. It benefits from small square footage (i.e. less rent) and excellent food and wine. When Lynn suggested we have the shower there I was 100% on board. Though I could not partake in the wine, I was happy that my guests could sip my favorite variety: sparkling pink rosé, in honor of my Baby Girl.

Grandma Tracy teamed up with Lynn to co-host, and it was flawless execution. It was organized as a brunch, and the menu included cheese and charcuterie, pulled pork nachos, a couple of salads, quiche, sandwich platters, and ultimately Georgetown cupcakes (both my and Grandma Tracy’s favorite favorite… two favorites for emphasis). Lynn got crafty with the décor (some of which will end up in your bedroom), and the whole setting really looked picturesque and slightly comical as the backdrop for the baby shower was shelves on shelves of wine.

I loved every minute of it. It was an intimate party with my most nearest and dearest best friends in the area, your Aunt Joanne (who insanely decided to go round trip from Pittsburgh to DC and back in one day), Shelly (one of Dad’s longtime friends from high school), and a faction of our extended family from the Morris side who journeyed all the way from Maine to celebrate (Dad calls them the “Morri” which he supposes is plural for Morris). It was very touching to have all of these out-of-towners make the journey south in your honor, as you are the most special thing that has ever happened to me. The Morri stayed in town the whole weekend, and we gallivanted around the metro area, which was especially exciting as it was an inaugural trip to Washington for three of the five members of our crew (and I love playing tour guide to first-timers…more on their trip later).

The meal was a casual affair, and I opened gifts intermittently while everyone ate. I’m very grateful for everything you received—both from those that were able to attend and those that could not make it—everything was perfect.  Dad showed up at the end to say hello and help transport your newly acquired gear, and most everyone came over to the house afterward to see the renovations and have a second cupcake (I myself had two…and two more the next day… and I apologize to you for the sugar overload). One of the most exciting moments of the day was showing everyone the nursery. Grandpa Steve fully achieved the wow-factor with that one. And I have to call out Audrey specifically because she was here in this house ripping out mold in 2009, she lived here for about three years, and moved in even before I did (I am not kidding). Her reaction to the transformation was priceless. She just kind of sat in your room for a while and stared. Kind of like what I do every night. Like a crazy creepy person.

Again, I couldn’t have asked for a better day, and a special thanks goes out to Grandma Tracy and Lynn for making it happen. I will be calling Lynn for your first birthday party for sure as she serves as a party planner/decorator/florist triumvirate.

Love,

Mom

Top left and right: Momma and Grandma, waiting for you get here at 28 weeks.
Middle left: Momma and Audrey
Bottom Left: Momma and Lynn

Left: Dad and I, all smiles waiting for our girl.
Top right: Momma and Natalia, who graciously picked up the Georgetown cupcakes
and sadly left for a foreign service assignment in Afghanistan a week later.
We will be sure and facetime her though once you are born!
Bottom right: Momma and Aunt Joanne, who I am SO happy made it for the shower even though
I think she is insane for doing the drive same-day!

All the Morri!
Top, from the left: Casie, Tricia, Joanne, Emily and Woodrow, Grandma Tracy and Momma!
It was hard to get a good picture of all seven of us, but I like this one because Woodrow is smiling.
You two are sure to be buddies.
Bottom right: Cousins! Emily, Casie, and Momma

Trimester the Third

Dear Baby Girl,

We have entered the oh-my-God-you-are-coming-so-soon-and-I-lie-awake-at-night-thinking-of-random-things phase. Okay, that’s a lie. I mostly lie awake in early hours of the morning thinking of random things. It is 6AM on a Sunday right now because I get up in the morning incredibly ambitious and ready to achieve lots of things and then crash about three hours later because I wear myself out. Your father says I’m like a puppy who does not know how to regulate my energy. It’s true, but normally I’m in go-mode all the time and the whole “getting tired” thing is really throwing a wrench into it. If only I allowed myself to drink coffee.

So… TEN WEEKS TO GO! I remember when you were only 10 weeks old (I guess by normal age convention you have never been 10 weeks old, but you get what I’m saying), and the size of a kumquat. You’re now a whopping THIRTY weeks old and “about the size of a large cabbage” (according to my pregnancy app…which also happens to claim you are 16” long... which is the largest cabbage I have ever seen). You are kicking pretty much all day (but not to a painful degree), and your father felt you kick for the first time this weekend. It scared him a little, but he is really getting excited. He talks about you a lot, and we are so close to picking your name. We have it narrowed down to two choices that we are both very happy with. The second will likely be reserved in case you ever have a sister.

Our doctor appointments are every two weeks now, which I love because I’ve been an insane worry wart and the more frequent visits give me more comfort. The last one at 28 weeks you were measuring in the 55^th percentile, which is perfect. We had our baby shower (which I will write about shortly), and I have all kinds of great things for you! Yesterday, Dad and I went to the outlets and I went a little crazy with your wardrobe. I got mostly practical things, but please keep me away from Ralph Lauren Kids. I definitely bought some impractical outfits there. Hopefully you like wearing dresses, and can keep it together long enough for me to take a picture. We may have to do an outfit photo shoot every day of your first year of being in the world.

Again, I have to say that your nursery looks great. Everything I add to it makes it better. I just ordered a rocking chair and a pillow for it that I probably didn’tneed but really kind of do because it’s awesome. Once we figure out your name (which has to be soon) I’m going to order some lettering to hang on the wall above your crib. Today, my plan is to tackle washing this myriad of clothing I just bought, and there are a couple of dishes I want to make and freeze for your arrival. I’d like to get in the habit of freezing at least one thing every weekend until you get here, but we’ll see. Again, my ambition sometimes exceeds my level of energy.

One last thing I’ll say: the winter that you came into existence set records in terms of snow. The summer prior to you being born is now setting records in terms of temperature. I believe it got up to 102 degrees yesterday (we haven’t breached triple digits since 2012, and the all-time high is 106 degrees). What a time to be pregnant! 75% of the way there, we’ll see you soon Baby Girl!

Love,

Mom

I didn't totally think when I started taking pictures in this outfit that it would become a belly shirt,
but now I am committed, and the outfit stays.

My favorite picture of your bedroom so far,
Those pictures will likely go on the wall as that is your changing table.

Here it is, your baby bathtub!
Emily (your friend Olivia's mom) bought you an infant bathtub that fits perfectly to a tee in this sink.
You are surely going to love bath time!

All the Pregnant Ladies

From Left: Nina (who you may remember from a prior post), ME, and Molly.

Dear Baby Girl,

For some reason, 2016 is the year to have babies if you are in Investments and Capital Markets. In a predominantly male dominated profession—and on a predominantly male dominated trading floor—three of the few women are pregnant simultaneously. In fact, we are each spaced out by almost two months exactly (Nina’s mother in law made the comment that it must have been a long, hard winter). Anyway, this is great news for you, as you will have at least two playmates here. The other two girls are having boys, and growing up with boys sounds about on par with my childhood, so I’m confident you will hold your own (but if you’re concerned one of my best friends from high school just had a baby girl yesterday).

I organized this little photo shoot to try and time it so that Nina was far enough along to have a solid bump, but prior losing Molly to labor. We cut it pretty close. She’s ready to pop. Every time she’s not at her desk I think, “Oh my God. Is it go-time?” So as not to waste a single day of paid maternity leave pre-baby, we are all planning on working basically until our water breaks. We’ll see how that goes. None of us really wants that to happen at our desks. We definitely looked ridiculous all three walking together to our photo shoot. The background is the newly renovated trading floor, which isn’t quite finished, so we had a solid setting where prying eyes and judgement could be avoided.

I’m fairly confident that such a photo opportunity as three pregnant ladies has never happened in capital markets, and Lord knows when it will happen again, so I’m glad we seized the opportunity. After a bit of photoshopping I sent a blast message to a select few in the division titled, “Something in the Water.”

Love,

Mom

Belly bump!

A Letter from Uncle Ben

(Here it is: after some convincing, a break from our regularly scheduled program to bring you a letter from your most independent uncle. His personality—which  comes out strongly in his writing—may be a reflection of how you will turn out as I had a hand in Uncle Ben’s up rearing, particularly in the pivotal teenage-early adulthood years. Take heed to what he has to say; I am so very proud of him, and his advice shows that—although it may take you a while to get there—the wisdom of the student can surpass the teacher…)

Dear infant hominid,

I am one of two uncles on your mother’s side. I currently live in Colorado and have no aspirations of ever returning to the east coast, which in turn destines us to be distant geographically speaking. That bleak outcome does not preclude me from impacting your life and is rather benign as it relates to our future relationship and especially mine and your mothers. Given that you’ve hit the proverbial ‘jack-pot’ in the parental lottery, I’m sure this minor inconvenience will not at all be detrimental in your growth and development as you strive to become an exceptional member of society. Therefore, what I will seek to provide you with is the very best of me. A man of faults I am still equipped with some useful traits and wisdom that I will endeavor to make you the beneficiary of. I will teach you how to shoot a basketball, how to shoot a gun, and eventually… how to shoot whiskey. Before we reach those milestones (and because this is my letter and I’m writing it my way) I will give you three traits of character I find most vital in becoming a decent human being: knowledge, strength, and humility.

Knowledge. I’ve found nothing else to be truer than the old adage ‘knowledge is power’. It enlightens the mind and allows us to transcend what we ever thought was possible (the combustion engine, human flight, space exploration to name a few). It is the combatant of ignorance. But what is the recipe for knowledge? In my opinion, open mindedness and objectivity. Never purport that you are the smartest person in the room (see humility below) or that you have nothing to learn from someone. Knowledge can be gained in many places, some strange and unlikely, for those who are constantly seeking it. Have an open mind to learn from every experience, every mistake, and every problem you encounter on your path to adulthood. And don’t stop there. Until you die you will never not have something to learn; always be mindful of that.

Strength. This can come in many forms but I’m mainly speaking to mental strength. You will never be judged by the number of times you’ve been pushed down (literally and metaphorically) but by the equal number of times you’ve gotten back up. Have the fortitude to understand that there is no such thing a problem without a solution. In fear of beginning to sound too cliché I will give you an example. Your other uncle (my brother) endured many hardships, growing up with failing kidneys since the day he was brought into this world. For him, every day was a perpetual test of mental strength and endurance as he never had the luxury of enjoying a “normal” childhood. When you meet him, and every single time after that, it will not be without a smile on his face. I recall joking around with him moments before he went under the knife to receive his new kidney (from your grandmother by the way). His stoicism was admirable. Even in his most trying hour he remained steadfast – I think we all can learn a valuable lesson from him. No situation is helpless; and face every mental test smiling with the knowledge that you’re strong enough to come out on the other side better off.

Humility. The universe is very big (incomprehensibly so) and you started from a single cell. As I write this in 2016 from everything we can tell we are alone in this vast cosmos. In short, life is precious. All life. It must be respected and treated as such. With every bit of success achieved in life always remember how small you are (though small organisms can achieve big things). There are many ways in which success can be measured but to me the ultimate way is to measure in the company you keep and the company that keeps you. Before you are even born you are already loved by many. As you grow and prosper do not forget all of those that helped you along the way and shaped you into the person you will eventually become.

That’s all the advice I can give you before you’re even brought into this world. You’re going to have to figure out the rest on your own, but always remember you have an incredible support network should you stray. And before I sign off I’ll give a word on each of them (at least in your immediate family on your mother’s side). Grandpa Steve – he has nine lives and he’s used up 10 of them so you’re going to have to go easy on him; Grandma Tracy (though I think we’re all hoping for ‘Mami 2’) – she’s got a heart of gold and will always be a go to for moral support; uncle Eli – he’s quick with a joke and good for a laugh but may never be entirely trusted, so proceed with caution; your mother – she’s the embodiment of all the characteristics mentioned above but she is a horrible driver, go with dad. If you want to know about me you’re just going to have to come see for yourself. I like to remain a mystery. Can’t wait to meet you.

Love,

Uncle Ben

(Uncle Ben's email said: "Here you go. Now you owe me a bestselling novel." We intend to write a science fiction novel together. Make sure this happens in my lifetime, Baby Girl.)

(Also, Marielle, I'm coming after a letter from you next. And as always, anyone else is welcome to write one).

America (and Baby) the Beautiful

Dear Baby Girl,

Your father and I celebrated Independence Day with a weekend at home and an empty house. Such weekends are limited these days as we get closer and closer to d-day (due date). In fact, this was officially our last Independence Day independent from your presiding rule.

The fourth of July fell on a Monday and it rained all day. We didn’t make it to the fireworks mainly because a) it was raining and b) we didn’t have a little girl to impress. But we will next year, when you will likely witness the nation’s most patriotic fireworks display from the very spot where your father and I got married. This year, we just went to the movies. BUT, so as not to balk on holiday spirit, we did see “Independence Day: Resurgence.” Not quite the same spunk as the 1990’s original (which we shall watch together as a family, in total silence), but it was entertaining nonetheless. Also, getting out of the house gave me the opportunity to showcase my outfit:

You see, the shirt is funny because it's as if YOU are saying it!
We are 27 weeks here.

Now, for life lessons… time for Momma to preach a little bit, Baby Girl. Independence Day is perhaps America’s single most important holiday, and it is very meaningful to me personally. Not because of the parties or the barbeques or the red white and blue attire (all of which are awesome, by the way), but because of what it represents. Our forefathers fought for freedom from oppression and tyranny. They fought to create their own set of rules, an independent nation, a government run by the people and for the people, and they established a new democracy such that the individual rights of each citizen would always be preserved.

This is the most important lesson I can ever teach you. Don’t ever let anyone tell you what to do or how to think. You are going to be Dad and my greatest most proud accomplishment. Your personality, values, dreams, views, opinions, and overall individualism are qualities I want you to hang on to tightly. Of course I want you to make friends, have fun, get married… all of that. But remain independent, always. It’s what this country was built on and it’s what we as Americans live for. AND it’s why we love you so much.

(Qualification: you can go ahead and let your father, me, and closest of kin tell you what to do at least for a few years… THEN, strike off young one, the world is your oyster).

Happy Fourth of July my dear! I absolutely can’t wait to meet you in person and watch you become someone truly special.

Love,

Mom

27 weeks from all angles

What's more American than banana cream pie?
Strawberry shortcake is generally the 4th of July tradition,
but I had bananas, not strawberries.

Stimmy's Departure

Dear Baby Girl,

Stimmy has left the building.

They left our family with the beautiful home that you will grow up in, and a nursery that is exactly what I pictured in my head (a difficult feat to accomplish). I will include some photos once Dad and I get all the furniture and have everything organized, but you already know what it looks like because by the time you read this it will be your house. But right now it is new, and there is certainly a “wow fact-ah.” There’s so much space that I don’t know where to go.

Grandpa Steve got all blink-y before he left. You will witness this many times in your life likely starting with your birth and then any time you hit a major milestone (i.e. walking, saying “Grandpa,” etc.). He got us both respective parting gifts (aside from the house) and left us a little message:

Red for me, pink for you.

Your baby shower is next weekend!

The “Baby Pink” comes from one of Grandpa Steve’s OCD behaviors that he developed while painting your nursery. He could not stop humming to himself “Pink!” and “Baby Gray!” and would blurt these out at random as if he had Tourette’s (even after he finished his paint job). “Pink!” turned into “Baby Pink!” and hence, the note. Another consequence of his nursery paint job: he HAD to have strawberry ice cream that night because the color pink of your bedroom reminded him of strawberry ice cream (this resulted in he and Jimmy’s countertop ice cream date).

We are very grateful for all of their hard work, and it’s very possible that the next time Grandpa Steve and Jimmy are in this house there will be another member of the family… YOU (I think that made Grandpa Steve extra blink-y).  

Love,

Mom