Now that's romantic.

A few weeks ago I was chatting with some of my Monday night coworkers about romance. The only guy on the shift is a nice enough mid twenty something male who has plenty going for him but who couldn't figure out why girls seemed to shy away from him. In his mind, he was the perfect catch. That was perhaps the issue, but that's a discussion for another blog. "I'm the last of dying breed" he said to me after describing his last romantic encounter with an ex that included a bubble bath, red roses, wine, candles... you know, the whole enchilada.

I detected a distinct hint of pride when he said this, though I think he felt it churlish to really brag. He was after all surrounded by two married stay at home moms and a high school junior who was about to break it off with her long time "bf". We were clearly not the ones he wanted to impress with this statement.

For some reason this 3 minute long conversation has kind of stuck on rewind in my brain for the last few weeks. Perhaps it is because with Valentines Day rapidly approaching, pop culture has been pretty saturated with mush. At any rate, it instigated a good deal of reflection on my part. Mostly when I was in the shower, because the water drowns out the sound of my children screaming at me.

When was the last time my husband drew me a bath or bought me roses or even lit a candle? See, the truth is, I don't particularly care for baths in our tub- the paint is all chippy and though we have plans to renovate our bathroom after we get our tax refund, life is unpredictable. And I actually don't like roses. At all. Especially red ones. I do like candles, but I prefer ones that smell like apples or pumpkin or baking cookies and my spring fever is not really conducive to that... Mike likes evergreen scented ones. Same deal applies.

I racked my brain for the last truly romantic gesture my husband did for me, but the fact of the matter is, we just don't do stereotypical romance. For some reason, whether due to the fact that we're just more creative then that, or maybe just that we're poor, we've strayed from the social norm. So when girls look at me all sympathetic-like when I confess that my husband has never in our 10+ years of knowing each other, taken me to an uber fancy shmancy restaurant with food I can't pronounce and that probably has mushrooms in it, while playing Boccelli and presenting me with expensive jewelry...

It kind of irritates me. I get all defensive. I mean, we're just not like that. So he hasn't taken me to any swanky restaurant downtown ever. When we were in college, he planned a picnic on my dorm room floor. With no fungus, thanks very much. And while I'm cool with the classical vocal standards, my man is a bit more punk and country than that. In fact, while on vacation with his family a few years back, he sang Brad Paisley's Mud on the Tires at karaoke night, dedicating it to me. Sober. It still makes me smile all stupid when I think of it. He saved an entire summer working 13 hour days with the park district (not an easy feat, mind you) to buy my beautiful engagement ring and band. Maybe I don't get diamonds for "push presents" or random anniversaries, but once he went to a silent auction for his work and the ladies all convinced him to bid on a pearl necklace for me. The proud look on his face when he came home with such a classy gift was worth every penny.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a sucker for romance. I've read every work of Austen several times through. I watch reruns of The Office just to relive the Jim and Pam saga over and over. I wait in long lines with spastic tweens come opening night of each of the Twilight releases. I bought conversation hearts even though I don't really like the taste. But for all the stock that I put in romantic words and gestures, I don't remember a single word of Mike's speech when he proposed. Not one word. I do remember however, that he asked both of my dads and my mom for permission to propose in the first place. Because he knew it meant a lot to me.

And that's really it, isn't it? He knows what is important to me and he strives for that each and every day. He loves our children without abandon, even when they screech and scream and interrupt our Valentines dinner plans. He shovels the end of our driveway because even though I probably can get out, he knows I'm too nervous to try. He doesn't pout and complain when I fall asleep early. He compliments my cooking even though we both know its far below par most nights. He tells me I'm still "hot" even though I've had two babies in two years and my belly is stretched beyond appropriate bikini use. He still kisses me to distraction and he still makes me want to be a better wife for him.

So there. I have to disagree with my coworker friend. He's not the last of a dying breed; maybe just the last of a different one. One that I don't want to be a part of anyway.

Happy Valentines day, dear readers and friends and a very happy Valentines day to you, Mike. Infinity times three.

All Before 9 am

This morning started off pretty well. I had noticed last week that staying home with my kids has this phenomenom of causing all the days to run together in one giant blurry Woodstock-worthy haze. That, coupled with the fact that I am currently working through my weekends at "The Bridge" lent to my decision that Thursday is the new Sunday where this Mom is concerned.

So I made the rule of "no real clothes"- we would wear our pjs all day long. And we'd eat a real breakfast that I actually cooked, rather than just toasted or microwaved. Just like regular folks do on a real weekend. Jonah and I had decided on scrambled eggs with cheese and toast with jelly; A gourmet chef I do not claim to be, afterall.

I took out the ingredients but noticed that there was a pretty sizable stack of the previous night's dishes taking over my counter space so I went to tackle those first. Jonah requested The Artistocats as his morning-mommy-making breakfast-movie (I never said I was mom of the year- my kids will be familiar with Disney classics and I'm not ashamed to say it. At least its better then the ginormous purple dino that should remain ever nameless on this blog). I set him up with his dvd and took to the dishes to task.

That was my first mistake. My boy doesn't like to wait. Within seconds I hear a rustling in the living room. I quickly ran in and saw Megan licking a butter wrapper like it was the last popsicle in the ice cream truck in the midle of July. My son? Well this is what I found...

"Yeah butter!" Really. That's what he said to me. "Yeah butter!" Like he was butter's own personal Cheerio. (That's a Glee shout out, just in case you didn't catch it.) Ewwwww. Ew.

Then, just cause its gonna be that kind of day... as I'm placing the butter in a dish to deal with later, I hear a shatter. An enormous shatter. Like a shatter I've never ecountered before. Man do those glass pirex bowles shatter. There was glass in Wyatt's kennel, behind our trash, somehow it hopped on the counter... incredible. It was a glassplosion.

And then just a teenie tiny "Oopsies, Mommy." Yeah. Oopsies.

This is post clean up... I figured risking the safety of my family in order to take a live action shot for my blog probably wasn't kosher with the DCFS folks.

Finally, hurricane Jonah was cleaned up, the dishes were hastily finished and I was getting my ingredients together again. Eggs. "Mommy eggs." That's right, my smart boy, Eggs. Where were my eggs?

He hands me two, but there were three in the carton. Where of where did that egg get to?

I'll tell you where.

In case you don't have the decor in my home memorized (for shame!), that's my couch. With egg yolks on it.

All before 9 am.

Cereal never treated me this bad. Just saying.

Snow day

"Hey Jonah, tell your mommy that you want to shovel the driveway today."

That's how it began. Smirking as he walked out the door this morning, my husband knew he had planted the seed. The seed of hope in my almost two year old son, but also the seed of guilt in me. He was heading out to work despite the epic blizzard of the century that is supposed to hit this afternoon and I was staying home all cushy and cozy in my pjs and slippers.

I told myself it was silly to even shovel the 2.5 inches on our driveway, when in the grand scheme of things, they are calling for over a foot of snow in the next twenty four hours. I said to myself "Alice is sleeping, and you really can't leave her in the house." I thought about the insane amount of time it takes to get Jonah dressed in all his heavy layers. I thought about the fact that we only have one shovel and I would likely spend all that time out there fighting with Jonah over it.

But then another thought occurred to me. This may be a great way to tire that boy out for a nice loooong nap. Maybe just maybe the universe would align and for once when Jonah goes down for his nap, Alice won't wake up immediately. Maybe I would get a chance to shower. Really shower. Like shave my legs and get all the suds out and everything!

So with dreams of my shower to cheer me on, I gathered up the snow gear scattered throughout our little house. All in all, it took only about ten minutes, which is actually not too bad. I kept Jonah's footie pjs on, to speed things along and despite his best efforts each time I opened my bedroom door, he was not successful in waking his baby sister.

I grabbed a broom, hopeful that it might deter my son from a shovel tug-o-war and we headed out. Within seconds Jonah face planted in the snow. On purpose. He repeated this action with a giant silly grin on his face until suddenly he got to be less and less enthusiastic. Until he actually started crying. Snow is darn cold, afterall. Try as I might, I have thus far been unsucessful in communicating this to my boy.

I shoveled my little heart out, but I had only cleared our tiny porch at this point and being that I barely made it 3 minutes, I was not ready to give in so easily. I ran inside for another pair of mittens, strapped them on his red little fingers and we pressed on.

My dear child decided to take a little hike around the perimeter of the yard. I was working around our car when I heard his cries. He had somehow managed to burrow himself into the little drainage ditch at the end of our driveway. Once more, I picked him up, brushed him off and fetched yet another pair of mittens for his now purple fingers. Again, I began to shovel.

I was heading towards the end of our drive when he cried out again; this time even more pitifully then before. I rushed toward his voice only to to stopped short by the sight of my son army crawling towards my husband's boat with all the fervor and desperation of a boy lost in a desert who had spotted an oasis. "Mooooommmmy! I want the boat! Mooooommy! Boooooooat!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course. A boat is exactly the kind of thing that will save you in a situation like this.

He is so his father's son.

I fetched him again, got yet another pair of mittens, which I strapped to his purple and shaking little figners, and finished the driveway wtihout incident. He forgot his need for some time on the high seas and was content to pretend to shovel with his mother for a while and as I am writing this, we are safe and warm inside, though he is refusing to let me take off his coat, boots or snow pants still.

He keeps saying "Mommy, I want to go outside."

Oh heck no. We're good till spring.

What's it like?

So I'm just gonna skip over the whole lengthy and excuse-ridden explaination of where I have been in the past year and some months. Lets just say, their names are Jonah and Alice and they are completely lovely.

That being said (very succinctly, I might add, which is new for me), since the arrival of little (and I mean little) Alice nearly three months ago, I've been asked over and over again by my mostly expecting friends "how is it with two kids?". Here is my reply...

A week or so ago, I came home from my new job as the manager on duty at a quasi swanky health club. It was late, probably about 11 pm and my husband was sitting on the couch looking decidedly exhausted but pleased with himself because both our children were asleep and the house was quiet. Our poor dogs were passed out on their pillow in the center of the living room, where I don't think the arrival of a million UPS guys could rouse them. It was dark and eerily silent, but the various baby and toddler parephenelia scattered about the room gave evidense of a typically busy day.

I went to the sink to grab a glass of water and looked down at my outfit for the first time all evening. I was dressed professionally, which as you all might remember is very uncharacteristic of me. Dark dress pants, black high heels, knee high stockings and a black turtle neck sweater.

Oh, Darnit.

The sweater was on backwards. There beneath my chin was the distinct outline of a tag.

That, my friends, is what it is like to be a mom of two. My intellectual image is ruined slightly by the nerdy tilt to my glasses form when my son decides to wear them as a belt and bends them out of shape. My shoulder is covered in puke stains because of my daughter's sensitve stomach. My maternity pants are falling off me because of the rapid weight loss due to my son's sudden appetite for whatever it is that I am eating and my daughter's eerie sense of timing. My hair hasn't been cut since 2009. Probably around the last time I blogged, actually.

But I love ever blessed second of it.

I may look a mess, but did you know that every time my son wakes from sleeping, he knocks on his door to come out, as one would knock on the door of strangers house? It's pretty much the most hilarious thing ever. And if I sigh around him, not even thinking about it, he asks me "what's the matter, momma?" I mean, really.

And Alice, she has dimples. And blue eyes. Blue!

So yeah, two under two is challenging. Very challenging. Over the mountain challenging.

But so worth it.

Finally- a Jim and Pam wedding!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4Ry90sDfnY&feature=related

Time for the little fangirl in me to shriek and scream and jump up and down and clap my hands together, ridiculously. An event five looooong "will they-won't they" seasons in the making....

Jim and Pam are getting married!!!

The classic story of boy meets girl- girl is engaged (but not setting the date) to big jerk- boy and girl become besties and everyone can see their cute as a button romantic feelings just hidden under the surface- boy confesses love to girl (GAH, that kiss, THAT KISS!)- she stays engaged-boy moves away- girl breaks off engagement- boy comes back but brings his new girl friend- girl confesses her love over a work place retreat bonfire- boy breaks it off with girlfriend- boy and girl secretly date- boy and girl get engaged at a gas station- boy and girl find out she's pregnant- boy and girl get married.

Tonight!!!

Honestly, I may be almost as excited as I was for my own wedding. Jim and Pam are hands down the sweetest, most hilariously quirky couple in pop culture today and I love love LOVE that this romance has been allowed to play out.

I've enclosed a little video montage of Jim and Pam moments, starting in season 4 when they began dating... its missing the drama, but its still so cute. (Note: please ignore the cheesy 90s balads, I didn't make this video... I just thought the clips were appropriate.)

Happy Thursday, everyone.

a look back at the last 7 months...

So I've been scrolling through my old facebook status'... I was thinking of the ginormous gaps that I've left in my blog since Jonah was born and I thought this would be an interesting way to catch you all up... they are in order from most recent to least recent...

nothin says "Happy Friday" like waking up to a baby poohsaster. At least I've learned to hand the boy a toy before removing the diaper so he doesn't play in the squishiness below and rub it all over his belly and mine like he did yesterday. For realsies.

I've decided that not much has changed since I became a mom except for a decided lack of privacy that has increased tenfold now that my son can crawl. The world is his oyster, and that includes the bathroom. Is nothing sacred anymore?

Okay, found Jonah's social security card this morning and then got an email confirming that he's getting an official laminated name tag for the church nursery... this is nuts. I really have a son. I know he's been around 6+ months, b...ut still... sometimes these things just hit you upside the head.

thinks its just so wonderful that her little boy looks at her like she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen no matter how terribly out of fashion and stressed out and frazzled she looks.

big weekend for the littlest Hahn: learned to crawl (watch out, he's on a roll and he loves vents!), learned to sit by himself (makes getting dressed so much easier!) and learned to drive the boat (he'll be captaining TMR booze cruises in ...no time!) all on his 6 month birthday (seriously, can you believe he's that old already?!). Pictures to follow.

thought it was Tuesday until I saw my facebook status and realized that Tuesday was yesterday. Seriously. Some people find out their relationship status on facebook, I find out what day it is. Babies totes suck out your brain, for real.

got a sleepy smile and a cuddle from my baby boy before I left for work way early this morning, and everything is right in the world. :)

just got caught singing the elephant show theme song and doing a goofy dance by the meter man through an open window. Unfortunately, Jonah was in the other room and I'm pretty sure the guy probably thought I was signing to myself, rather then m...y baby, which I swear I wasn't. Even if sometimes Jonah ignores me.

has finally shaved her legs and is celebrating by wearing a jean skirt on this beautiful summers day. It really is wonderful to be able to take a shower longer then 3 minutes every now and again.

used to think she would get excited at the end of her work day to go home to her hubbie... and she still does, but its NOTHING compared to how completely exstatic she is to go home to her little boy! Man I love that little drooley kid.

okay, kids, today was a monumental stepping stone in young Jonah's life (and thus, his mom's). We were finally able to agree on music for the car ride, and it wasn't baby einstein. Yes, my facebook friends, my son is a closet tree hugger like his momma.

is listening to her husband singing "Amazing Grace" to her little boy to drift him off to sleep. Doesn't get much sweeter then this.

riddle me this all you "back to sleep" SIDs compaigners... what on earth are you supposed to do when you son insists on rolling over to his tummy when he sleeps? He's a force to be reckoned with, this one!

is working an insane amount today so she can take the little bugger to meet his crazy family in Indy... thank heavens for Aunt Cassie and her super nephew-sitting skills! (not to mention the starbucks she promised to bring me...)

*thinks* that she may have sucessfully weaned Jonah off the pacifier and swaddleme for sleeping time, of course now she needs to sing him to sleep until her throat is hoarse and he may never appreciate music ever again... but still. I count it as a trium

is wondering if anyone has any napping tips? Jonah sleeps like a champ at night, but the concept of a nap is a bit lost on him.

promises that not all her status updates will be about Sesame Street, even though she is a mom, now, and thus a gazillion points lower on the global "hipness scale". THAT being said, my man Gordon is STILL on that show. I loved that guy! Today, there wa

just watched "Seseme Street" with Jonah and Elmo seriously got an email from Grover. About penguins, in case you were wondering.

is having a little bit of a rough start this morning since her little "Thumper" deicded to chat it up for a good hour around 3 am. Funny, that's when he was up and moving when I was pregnant with him, too...

just realized that Harry Potter and the Half blood Prince comes out NEXT MONTH! Man, having a baby around to distract me really makes time fly. I should have done this YEARS ago, when I was waiting for all those darn books to come out...

is hoping Jonah will keep napping just a bit longer, so his momma can jump in the shower.... nothing worse then an inconsolable baby when you're good and sudsy.

is digging on the fact that my son LOVES the Beach Boys. We've been jammin out this beautiful morning and he was histerical during "help me Rhonda"! Goodness being a mom is fun.

and Jonah just came back from a nice long walk on this beautiful day- the point, however, was not only to enjoy the outdoors, but also to lull him to sleep so I can work. Which he did, he fell asleep pretty much imediately upon walking out our door and t

is ready for her Mike to come home. Jonah's ready, too.

just took a cyber beating equivalent to a middle school playground smack down on the babycenter boards for defending a first time mom who asked a question about adding rice cereal to her kids bottle. Seriously? She was JUST asking! Yeesh. Not like she

is kind of dreading today... Jonah has shots at the doctor this morning (and if I make through the ordeal without crying, it will be a miracle) and then I have to head into the office this afternoon and attempt to work on my computer that seems to have be

is in the office and drinking coffee this morning... wow. feels like the old days, except I keep thinking of my little guy at his Grandma's... so a little bit different, I suppose. Happy Friday, everyone!

knew that it was a bad idea to give Jonah his night feeding so early... we just aren't ready to make that kind of step.

is finally able to get her wedding band back on after all that pregnancy-induced puffiness... the engagement ring is a work-in-progress, just yet. I'll keep you posted.

is procrastinating starting her morning... but if I wait too long, Jonah will start it for me and THAT will take all day to recover from... Good news is that its BEAUTIFUL outside!

is officially getting the curls chopped this morning. Sorry, Jonah, no more hanging on by your momma's hair! Now I know why "mommy cuts" happen... and I'm not afraid to say that's what I'm getting!

is spending all her free time coaxing smiles out of her son over and over. Its honestly the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life.

was JUST congratulating herself on finally kind of getting the hang of this whole baby thing... and then Jonah decided to prove her wrong with a nice'n fussy afternoon... and when I say fussy, I mean out of control screaming at the top of his lungs for a

read that babies should be able to fall asleep on their own without rocking or whatever... TWO HOURS later, Jonah is finally sleeping soundly. For the record, I can rock him to sleep in minutes. Ugh.

is cleaning her house with Jonah in the carrier- I'm totally afraid he's going to fall in the washing machine one of these times, but he loves it.

is going stir crazy and wishing it was a bit warmer so that she and Jonah could take a walk. I can only dance around my kitchen for so long...

is laughing at her son who is riding in his swing like he's on a rollarcoaster with his arms in the air. I'm a little jealous there isn't one of these in my size- it looks like fun!

is slowly figuring out her son- likes: Jimmy Eat World, dancing around with his mom and eating just to eat. Dislikes: his swing, circus music and socks.

is watching her son try to eat his overalls.

just really can't stop staring at her little boy. Does this ever go away? Because I'm having a difficult time getting anything done, here.

slept better last night then she did her entire pregnancy- go figure. Jonah is quite a guy.

Okay, for the record, jonah was 8lbs12oz ... Not 4oz... Give me some credit, here!

ITS A BOY! Jonah Britton Hahn 8lbs 4oz 20.5" born 4:02 pm, sorry I forgot the camera at the hospital I'll post pics soon. -Mike

The things we'll say when anonymous on cyberspace...

"Ah Harry, how often this happens, even between the best of friends... each of us believes that what he has to say is much more important then what the other might contribute."

- Dumbledore Half Blood Prince

I've been doing a fair amount of thumb-twiddling today. Our IT guy was out of the office for a large portion of my work day (I won't get into the hows and whys... suffice it to say, it's happened before) and the two computers (yes, two, I'm terribly important) that I typically work on were out of commission. Just a fluke of nature or karma or perhaps God's way of telling me to take it easy, I suppose, but its been arduous and just plain old boring, around Erin's cube this dreary fall day (Note: not that I'd know it was dreary- no windows in my cube; but every now and again I catch a glimpse of what lies beyond when I venture out to the restrooms).

So, anyways, I've been surfing the net. Typically I favor ew.com and cnn.com for my daily new fixes. A little bit serious and a little bit frivolous (very indicative, if you ask me). Anyways, I normally just skim the headlines and articles if they catch my eye and then close my browser and move on with my day. However, since I've been held up this afternoon, I've been perusing comments.

Wow.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

People are boldy vicious when they have the anonymity of the internet to hide their true identities!

I've read articles on the Letterman scandal (yeesh, that must of been akward to witness live), the 2016 olympics bid and last night's episode of Survivor. The first two, I imagine would cause a bit of controversy regardless, but a reality TV show?! Heaven's above, folks sure get a fire under their butts about those tribal councils!

Here's a few choice samples of what I found:

"umm…it’s creep, not creap. perhaps you should return to school. Or did you never go? " (Let's not even get into the grammer issues on this particular entry... All I want to say is 'Pot. Kettle.')

"letterman is simply a moronic idiotic fool! I’ve know this for years, and now the whole country knows it! Hopefully, this will lead to his downfall, so we no longer have to see or listen to this miserable pathetic stupid man!" (Further adjectives need not apply)

"All of these “christian value” motivated people so eager and delighted to judge and condemn. Forget, the obvious fact that you have no context for any of the relationships or knowledge of where he and his wife stand together, you are eager and happy to condem. So Christlike." (so many were "so eager" to throw religion in the mix... forgive me if I don't see the validity of anonymouosly arguing theology on the Entertainment Weekly comment boards...)


Yeesh...

Anyways, if every you have the chance, dear friends, check out the comment boards. It'll make you eternally grateful for the distinct lack of bitter and angsty drama in your own lives.

Unless you are one of those commenters, yourself. In which case, stay away from my comment button. My feelings get hurt easily.