Wassup cuz?

The fun times just keep on rollin' at the farm. Yesterday afternoon, my Aunt Sandy, Uncle Scott and cousins Erica, Angie and their families came down to catch-up and squeeze my daughter's cheeks.

I was anxious to see how well Taylor would play with her extended cousins, as she did not have any sort of afternoon nap. Nadda. Which usually puts her mood somewhere between Psycho and Demon Baby. And after fighting little Ava over every single toy that she picked up, we took the kiddos outside, where the sunshine greatly increased her mood. And her cuteness.

My friend Steph

My high school graduating class had 41 students in it. And, hands down, my favoritest classmate from the GHHS class of 1996 was Steph. Her family moved to Holstein when we were in grade school, and we became fast friends. Which was unfortunate for each of our parents as we lived on the opposite sides of the school district. Meaning that any sleepover or playdate was followed with an hour drive to take someone home, with a half hour of that ride spent trying to calm two friends laughing manically in the backseat of the car. I'm talking full-on cheek-cramping, pee-your-pants, belly-laughs. We thought we were the funniest two people alive.

And after high school, I enrolled at Iowa and she at Iowa State. And then her parents moved away from the area, meaning that Steph spent holidays somewhere else. And in the whirlwind of college, we somehow lost touch. Sure, we got to see each other at the random classmate wedding, and we'd catch-up in the few hours we saw one another, but then we'd return to our respective towns and fall out of touch again. Tragic.

But then, through the magic of the Internet, mostly this blog, we were able to reconnect. And able to learn about each other's kids and husbands and towns and extended families, all without spending hours and hours on the phone. Because, seriously, who can spend hours on the phone anymore? I'm lucky to get 15 minutes to concentrate on a conversation, and that's only when Sesame Street or Yo Gabba Gabba is on.

And when I announced that I was coming back to the farm this week, Steph managed to rearrange her schedule and make a quick trip up from Kansas City with her kiddos. And I can't even explain how excited I was to see my old friend. And when she, Brady and Elly arrived at the farm yesterday morning, it was like we hadn't skipped a beat. Which meant that within five seconds of us reuniting, each of us had giant smiles plastered on our faces and were belly-laughing so hard we scared our own children.

And it was so wonderful to meet her kiddos. They are so sweet and have so much personality. Living proof that Steph is an awesome mom.

And to see our children together was absolutely precious.

And after lots of catching-up, lunch and some serious playtime, Steph took Brady and Elly back to Sioux City. And then, later into the day, the two of us met back up in Holstein, sans children, and we drove around our old stomping grounds, knocking on a few doors, meeting up with some more old friends, and laughing, LAUGHING, L-A-U-G-H-I-N-G until we each had tears in our eyes and some seriously sore cheeks. Thanks, Steph, for making the drive up to see me. You made my heart smile bigger than my face.

Back at the farm

Well, bloggers, WE MADE IT. Alive. With my sanity still in tact. Both flights went off without a hitch, and T was, dare I say it, a perfect angel on the plane. I didn't even have to get out the emergency brand-new baby doll in my carry-on until the last half-hour of the two-hour ride from the airport to the farm. Maybe she's born to jet-set afterall. Or maybe she's going to be equally as bad on the trip home. Either way - WE'RE HERE!

And the farm looks absolutely AMAZING! I haven't been back to Iowa in the non-winter months for a long time, and there is nothing prettier than green rolling fields and bright blue skies. NOTHING. This morning was spent introducing T to the farm, and after a few timid moments, she started running around, touching and pointing at all the new, fun things that are going to occupy our attention for the next week.

And then, of course, Taylor's Ya-Ya fed her enough sugar to last the week too. What is it with grandmothers stuffing their grandkids full of sinfully sweet treats? Is it an oath they take when their first born becomes pregnant? Thou must shove as much sugar in thou grandchildren's mouths as possible.

This is going to be a fun week.

Fingers crossed

Alright, the suitcase is packed and my carry-on is stuffed full of toys, books, diapers and lots and lots of treats in the shapes of Sesame Street characters. I wonder if when Taylor woke up this morning, she knew that today would be the day that she has the option to eat her weights worth of cookies and fruit strips. Like church only five-time longer in duration. It might be the best day of her life.

I’m ready for this plane ride. I am going to OWN this plane ride today. I’ve been in training for the past month. No, really. I’ve been TRAINING for this. Extra push-ups and squats at the gym, because I’m about to lug a hefty-sized toddler and an equal amount of treats across the country.

And I predict that at the end of the day, the hardest thing we will have gone through is having to say goodbye to Chris for a week. Because that’s gonna be really tough - I haven’t been away from my man for that long in ages, and he’s never been away from his baby girl for more than two days.

But other than some sore shoulders, missing my husband and Taylor having a tummy-ache, I predict this trip home to the farm will be AMAZING. I am so excited to show off my little T to all who will see her, and I can’t wait to spend time with my family and hometown comrades. It’s gonna be a party.

The magical fruit

We have a new obsession in the Amys house. It’s called Papas & Beer, a locally owned Cali-Mex restaurant that recently opened a new place about five minutes from our front door. And apparently we’re not the only people that have this affliction, as there is a mandatory 20-minute wait every time we go. Which says a lot in a food-snob environment such as Asheville. It’s THAT good.

And I have to be honest that the number-one fan of the cuisine in our family is baby T. On our first visit, when the waiter brought over our chips and bean dip, Taylor immediately plunged her tortilla chip in to the dip, sucked it off and went back for more. It was love at first sight. And then she spooned-down her entire serving of refried beans, leaving most of her rice and entire quesadilla untouched. We were left speechless. As was the waiter and several other diners surrounding us. We had never seen anyone so excited about beans before. And then Chris and I had to do paper-rock-scissors to determine who was on diaper duty the next morning.

And the bean-love wasn’t a one time thing, as now every time we go there we have to prepare everyone in a five-foot radius that they’re about to see something spectacular. Step right up and see how fast this kid can eat beans. Prepare to be amazed.

Birthday Love

Yesterday morning we attended our second birthday party for the week, this time with Chris joining the fun. My old Kimmel-colleague and good friend, Meredith Love, and her husband, John, threw their son, Quinn, a killer third-birthday bash, complete with face painting, mini-disc golf and lots and lots of toddler toys.

And other than a few itty-bitty babies, Taylor was one of the younger kiddos there. And it was fun watching her interact with all of these new friends, especially the BOYS. The hyperactive little guys that wouldn’t hesitate to pull away her hula-hoop or wiffle ball or whatever else she was attached to for that five seconds. And only once did she stick out her bottom lip, tear up and scream, Hey, Buddy! I WAS TOUCHING THAT! And that’s when I gave her a juice box, and the world became a better place. Because who needs to touch a red wagon when you can have apple-carrot juice with a straw and Big Bird on the box?

There was one precious little girl there, Ella, who was about a year older than T, and the two of them became fast friends. They shared rides on the swing and trips down the slide. They ate lunch next to each other, and our new friend even let Taylor sneak a few grapes off her plate. Because, Hey, that’s what friends do. They share. And all was good until Taylor swiped Ella’s half-eaten cupcake right off her plate and shoved the ENTIRE morsel in her mouth. My girl couldn’t even breath she had so much cake in her mouth. And then Ella was all, What? Grapes are one thing, but FROSTING. Friends don’t share frosting. Thus the tragic end of that alliance.

Needless to say, it was about a million times more action than Taylor usually sees on Saturday mornings. And with her goody-bag clutched to her chest, my party animal was passed out before we got out of the driveway.

One a days

Taylor has always been a good napper. She has to be. She’s MY DAUGHTER. And I come from a long line of habitual afternoon snoozers. If you’re around my family and extended Graffeo family in the hours after lunch, don’t be offended if everyone retreats to their own spaces and becomes unconscious for an hour or so. We’re actually really, really good at napping. We are the Michael Phelps of napping. And that’s why we vacation together so well.

And obviously the fact that my daughter religiously napped twice a day, everyday, for one to two hours each snooze made me extremely happy. Read - ECSTATIC. Not only was she down long enough for me to get my housework done, but I was also allowing myself such daily luxuries as blow-drying my hair, eating while sitting down, reading books and, yes, NAPPING. Like I said, I love to sleep.

So I know it feels like I’m totally bragging. And I guess I am, and that’s why I feel like I have to tell you guys EVERYTHING. Like sometimes, when she had already slept for over two hours in one nap, I’d get bored and WAKE HER UP. Right. I can totally hear all of you mothers of non-nappers rolling your eyes at me. But don’t worry, karma is in your court as nothing is more of a gamble than waking my daughter up out of her slumber. NOTHING.

But then a couple of days ago she refused to go down for her morning nap. And by refused, I mean howled in her crib for over 20 minutes until I finally plucked her out and watched her spitefully throw every single toy out of her toy box. And after we ate lunch I put her in her crib, and this time she laid down, slept for a couple hours, woke up and went on her merry way. One nap.

And then it happens again the next day and the day after that. And after today’s solo nap I’m convinced that this is the new law of the land. And that I’m only gonna get one time-block a day to get everything done. Which means that we’re back to having dusty baseboards, and I'm wearing a ponytail, stuffing lunch in my face and emptying out the dishwasher at the same time.

And, yes, while I’m still very fortunate to get THAT amount of time, I still have to deal with after-nap-Taylor everyday. Which is like trying to predict the Asheville weather, because she can either be totally stoked to be up, ready to eat her snack and play with Ruby, or she can make life pretty miserable under the Amys roof. But, luckily for us, today it was the previous.