Baby You're a Firework

It all started out as a sarcastic comment made by my husband. Isn't that always how it starts out?

We were talking about how we wanted to find out this baby's gender. I knew for sure I wanted it to be something memorable. Something meaningful. Something original. "Gender reveal" parties are increasingly common, and while I think the whole "cut the cake to see if the icing is pink or blue" idea is great, it's getting a little overused.

So, we're sitting around one evening tossing around ideas. The ultrasound was scheduled for June 23, a little more than a week before July 4th weekend. Stew blurts out "maybe we should just shoot some fireworks and when they explode pink or blue, that's how we'll find out?"

Of course, my brain started spinning with creative ideas. We could invite all our family and close friends, do a July 4th theme, complete with red & blue fireworks, and BAM! (no pun intended) we have the perfect gender reveal party. I even knew the perfect date for the party. July 3rd is the anniversary of the day we started dating (way back in 1998). What better way to celebrate? After several weeks, I successfully convinced Stew (Sure we can fit 70 people in our house! 27 year old a/c system? No problem!), then began taking steps to turn his sarcastic comment into a reality.

At the ultrasound, we turned our heads as they scanned "the area," then had the doctor write down the baby's gender, print a picture of "the area," and put everything in a tightly sealed envelope. We asked Stew's best friend Eric if he would do the honor of secretly reading the envelope contents at the party and then shooting the corresponding firework. He agreed. Then we waited until the local firework stands opened up and purchased red fireworks and blue fireworks. We did a test run a few days before the party to make sure the fireworks had the right effect. We forgot to tell my elderly neighbor we were testing the fireworks. Needless to say it was pretty funny when he ran outside at 9 pm, pistol in hand, thinking the explosion was signaling the end of the world.

I won't go into detail about the million things that threatened to ruin this party (3 hour power outage the day of the party, anyone?) but I will say that thanks to the neverending stream of help from our incredible family and friends, this party turned out to be more perfect than we could ever have imagined. Baby Stewzie, you are surely loved by everyone already.

Here are just a few of the photos from the party. Photo credits: My super-talented brother Tim.

You can find him @ tjmohrphoto.com

Team Boy: (the majority)

Team Girl: (the minority)

Team undecided: We wore black in honor of the power outage.

Red fireworks or Blue fireworks?

After much anticipation and suspense, Eric lit the fuse. Aaaand...

It's a GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We were shocked! Stew was convinced it was a boy.

Big brother Austin was surprised too:

This was by far THE BEST surprise of our lives. I seriously watch this video multiple times a day and I still get chills.

Baby GIRL,

We are so excited for you to be our daughter.

Love,

Mama and Daddy

Boy or Girl?

Okay y'all, I promise I'm in the process of creating a post with actual words and pictures that'll catch you (and me?) up with everything that's been happening in Stewzie-ville lately. So much!

In the mean time, guess what? Today's the "big" ultrasound day! As in, the one where they determine this baby's gender! Just to be clear, we won't actually be finding out the gender today - we're having the ultrasound tech write it down in a very well-sealed envelope, to be opened at a later date (more on this soon). This way, we can be surprised in a setting much more pleasant than a hospital exam room. I mean, who likes hospital exam rooms? You? Well, you're weird.

So, for fun, look over at the right side of your screen. See that gender poll? Feel like making a guess? Go for it. I'm curious to see what everyone thinks. For the record, no, I have no intuition about the gender. And honestly I don't really have a preference. Just as long as it grows up, gets a job and makes enough to fund Mama & Daddy's retirement is healthy.

SnoBloggery

Stew = Spearmint (thus the green teeth)
Suzie = Black Cherry
Snoball Stand = Juju's in River Ridge



Small snoball = $1.25
Condensed milk = $.50 extra
Knowing that THREE people are enjoying a snoball in this photo = PRICELESS

Three One

Dear Stew,

Today is your 31st birthday.

Thirty-one years. You've done quite a lot in those eleven thousand, three hundred and fifteen days. Some days have been incredible. Others, not so much. Point is, you've made it through them all. And you've become you. I really, really like you.

I hope today turns out to be one of the incredible ones. I hope this year is your best one yet.



Love,

Me

The Question

We were 18. Young.

But what does age have to do with it?

We'd been officially dating for 3 months. Friends for 15 years.

But what does history have to do with it?

We were headed in different directions. Me: college in Baton Rouge. Him: everywhere.

But what does location have to do with it?

We had dreams, but not plans. We had potential, but no guarantee.

But what do odds have to do with it?

We had each other. Love. Committment. Fate.

And that has everything to do with it.

It was September 27, 1998. We'd only spoken once in the past 6 weeks. The days were silent, but not empty. Not without words.

The letters. From me. From him. Every day. Sometimes 2 or 3 or 10. But every day. Light, deep, funny, painful, real. Our hearts. In those letters. I found my future in those letters. In that boy.

I was so proud of that boy. Of us. It was his graduation weekend. USAF Basic Training. We sat side by side in church on a hot Sunday morning. Giddy and holding hands. Together. Finally. Words and songs swirled all around us. We could only hear each other. Time stood still. In that moment, that room full of people and families, it was only us. He told me he never wanted us to end. I told him I wanted us forever. Asked when forever would start.

He looked into my eyes. My soul. And whispered "Can forever start now?"

Our engagement day. Before anyone else knew...

What happened in Vegas

May come as a surprise to you, but Stewzie hasn't had a legitimate vacation together in 3 years, unless you count Hurrications. For those of you playing at home (Hurrication = Hurricane Evacuation + Vacation). So, given this, as well as the fact that we both just turned THIRTY, we decided to go big. Translation: Vegas, Baby!


Here are some tidbits to give you a feel for the fabulous time we had.

Flight: Southwest. Direct flight. No baggage fees. Score! Spectacular views.

Weather: Perfect. Hot. Dry. Used excessive amounts of Conditioner and Lotion to make up for lack of humidity.

Accommodations: Wynn Las Vegas. Wow. Classy. Room almost as big as our 1st apartment. TV in bathroom. Again, Spectacular views.

Dining: Expensive! Poolside breakfast. Loved. Lunch at world's largest buffet. Okay. Not too convinced of largeness. Dinner with Old Blue Eyes @ Sinatra. Very cool.

Shows: Flight of the Conchords. Unbelievable (we're huge fans). Bodies: The Exhibition. Fascinating. Carrot Top. Huh-Larious. I'm still laughing. Snorting, in fact. Plus, he truly has magnificent hair.

Gambling: Won $36 on slots. I'm a compulsive casher-outer (i.e. anti-gambler). Not at liberty to discuss how much Stew won or lost at the poker table. You'll have to ask him yourself.

Famous People Sightings: Tony Parker (San Antonio Spurs Player). Danieal Negreanu, Phil Ivey, Chris Ferguson (Poker Players). And some unidentified (Saints Player) who Stew sat next to on the plane ride home.

Quickie Weddings in Little White Chapels: None. That I'm aware of.

Celine Dion Concerts Attented: Zero. Thank the Lord. My heart will indeed go on.


Things I wish we would have had time to see, but didn't: The white tiger that mauled Siegfried. Or was it Roy? Either way. Showgirls putting on a showgirl show of the showgirl variety. Pretty sure Stew wishes we would have had time for that too (sigh). Fremont Street. Penn and Teller. Any of the overpriced but fantastic Cirque du Soleil Shows. Donnie and Marie. Just Kidding. And Caesar. Turns out it's not the REAL Caesar's Palace. Bummer.

Photos: Here.

Next up, our family vacay to Boerne (pronunciation: Bernie), Texas to celebrate Uncle Pat & Aunt Jackie's 50th wedding anniversary...

Potty like a Rockstar

You can stop worrying. I'm alive. I've just spent the previous 10 days on VACATION.

From New Orleans to Las Vegas to New Orleans to Willis, TX to Boerne, TX to San Antonio, TX to New Braunfels, TX to Boerne, TX to New Orleans. Much flying and walking and driving was involved. And it may take me a while to come back to reality.

So, until I have enough free time to catch you all up in the form of multiple proper blog posts, I'll tide you over with this - our spare toilet paper roll at the Wynn Las Vegas. They are serious about their toilet paper.

Loretta

Internet, meet Loretta.

Loretta is an Red Emperor Japanese Maple. She enjoys decaf coffee, long walks on the beach, and chatting with her best friend Blanche about their favorite Soap Operas.

Loretta is the newest addition to Extreme Makeover: Stewzie's Garden Edition. More info regarding said makeover, along with inspiring before and after photos will follow in a later post. But for now, back to Loretta...

Loretta's introduction to our lives was a tiny bit symbolic for me. You see, my 30th birthday is in less than 2 weeks (hint, hint). Since THE BIG THREE OH is a milestone of sorts, I wanted to do a little something for myself to mark the occasion. Something that would last longer than the usual gift. Something I could look back on years from now and say "That. THAT happened when I turned 30." A time capsule of sorts. A living memory. Planting a tree seemed fitting. It's me putting down roots. Literally and figuratively. It's something that, like me, has been maturing for a while now, but will continue to gain strength and evolve. Let's all hope.

P.S. That wooden pole standing behind Loretta, holding her up and supporting her while keeping her grounded? That's totally, 100%, symbolic of Stew (Hi Stew!) Sorry for being so sappy (no pun intended - maple tree - sap - get it?)

I did some reading up on Loretta's species, and was intrigued by the following descriptions:

...thrives in a Southern atmosphere...

...handles the hot summer sun easily but prefers shade in the afternoon...

AND

...is developing a reputation for good overall performance in difficult situations...

Loretta, I guess you and I have more in common than I ever imagined. Welcome to the family.

Die Vampire Die

*Disclaimer* If you're looking for the usual Stewzie carefree wit - proceed with caution. This post might get a bit introspective. Deep, even. But I'm probably overdue for a post that has more substance. Not that my dog wearing fake boobs doesn't qualify as substance, but you get the idea.

One more warning: Deep often equals LONG WINDED. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Last night as my pal Frances (Hi Fran!) and I took in a performance of [Title of Show] I was struck by the lyrics of a particular song.

Listen closely,
a vampire is any person or thought or feeling
that stands between you and your creative self expression,
but vampires can assume many seductive forms.

When I started writing Stewzie, my anxiety-prone mind (more on that later) immediately went into self-doubt mode. What if I share too much? What if I don't share enough? What if I should just shut out my thoughts and not write anything at all? Nobody cares what I have to say. I'm not good enough, interesting enough, creative enough, amusing enough, confident enough, witty enough, intelligent enough, committed enough, etc., etc., ETC. What if nobody reads my writing? Or worse. What if people read, but think my writing sucks? What if my mother disowns me because I just typed the word SUCKS for the entire interweb to read? And now her only daughter, pride and joy, has written a naughty word in a post that's archived forever for the whole world to see. Or double worse. What if I use the word SUCKS in a grammatically incorrect sentence? Some things are unforgivable.

At times, I can't wait to spill the juicy details of a story with all of you. Other times, it takes me weeks of worry before I can hit "Publish" and unleash the latest post. Writing is a very personal expression for me. I don't take it lightly. No matter how trivial the post. I poke fun, use a bit of too much sarcasm, express opinions, share photos, transcribe conversations. What if someone takes my words out of context? Gets offended? Or worse. Gets BORED. What if my husband gets his feelings hurt because I tell the world about his incessant SNORING? This is the live feed that plays 24/7 on my conscience.

Why is it that if some dude walked up to me on the subway platform
and said these things, I’d think he was a mentally ill a**hole,
but if the vampire inside my head says it,
It’s the voice of reason.

Until now, most of my writing has leaned toward the lighter side. Mostly entertaining, not too revealing. GUARDED. But, because I strive to become a better writer, I vow to share more. Because I want you to know the real ME, I vow to share more. Because I shouldn't be ashamed of the real me, I vow to share more. Rest assured, however, that a large majority of my posts will still discuss pointless yet riveting topics such as my hatred of Walmart and my love of all things Snoball. The bottom line is that there is more to me than humor and lame attempts at humor. Much more. I hope.

I'll likely still contemplate the what ifs. I'll likely still be cautious, scared even. But I will try my stewziest not to let myself sabotage.......myself.

Today, I'm staring my doubts in the eye and declaring "Die Vampire Die."