Tale from the Playroom... or wherever...

Some of you faithful readers may remember when we affectionately referred to Gavin as “MiniMarshall” or just “Mini” for short before he arrived. We waited 40 weeks (exactly!) for him, but we kept his name top secret. We decided on Gavin Patrick around week 25, but no one knew until his grand (very punctual) arrival. While he arrived ON his due date (unlike most babies) and he came out with big, dark eyes and lots of dark hair, we knew he was mine. Clearly already demonstrating OCD tendencies, and a full head of hair – definitely my child - but that is where the similarities pretty much ended. He looked exactly like the husband. Soon, we would learn, his personality was right in line with his too. 

So, I know now that the term “Mini” was foreshadowing that this little boy of ours would actually be a Mini-Me for the HUSBAND. I should have known. I lug him around for 9 months and then I end up with ANOTHER version of Andy. Lucky me! Seriously though, I these two crazy boys do make me feel pretty lucky. Some of the trouble they have already been into has… concerned me… but their similarities also… well, let’s use the word concerned again. Poor Gav already has a lot to “look forward to” being our son, especially the son of class clown/king goofball/rusty the dawg fan.

Recently these two musketeers outsmarted me again at a friend's engagement party. Gavin of course wore a onesie featuring a bowtie and suspenders, because he knew it was appropriate for such an occasion. (This where I still claim him as mine.) His father wore his signature quarter-zip sweatshirt, because he apparently thinks he’s athletic or something. Anyways, back to the party. The husband had Gavin while I socialized and talked all things wedding with the bride (I will never turn down a conversation about venues, lace and flowers - as long as I live! I can't help it.) 

About a week later, I get a text from friend saying she loved the pictures of Gavin in the laundry basket. What? I know he’s been in the laundry basket, but I try not to photograph that in fears that CPS will judge. She tells me that the husband had been sending photos on Saturday night and really, I need to send them in to whoever makes those towels! Again – what? Now he is in a towel advertisement? I’ve got to get to the bottom of this. Obviously nervous, but curious, I ask the husband if he had Gavin in a basket of towels? To which he nonchalantly replies, “Oh yeah. I had to pee so I took him in the bathroom at Matt and Sarah’s and that looked like a good place to put him.” Seriously? The impromptu photo shoot took place next, and I have to agree, this would be a very sweet in the Pottery Barn catalog we all know and love perusing each month.

just another day at the office with the wood samples
and sophie the giraffe.

a boy and his boat. 

This rivals the time he took him to work for the day and I asked where he was planning on having Gavin sleep. “Do you want to bring the pack-n-play?” Silly question. Why would you bring a bed for your baby when you can just lay him on the floor under a desk?

Or, how about the guys day at the Seattle boat show? Yep, there's Gavin with the Cris Craft he is putting on his wish list for Santa this year.

The best part of these daddy-grams is that Gavin never seems phased… Pottery Barn hamper with soft, new towels in the newlyweds’ bathroom? Sure! Why wouldn’t I just perch in there and giggle? Nap on my blanket on hard carpet in some empty office while my dad works down the hall? No problem! Just come check on me eventually, ok? I actually like to sleep face down.

What’s next, Dad?

Love,

YOUR mini

where you lead, i will follow... literally.

Mini!

Shortly after my last post (I know I know – way too long ago – I AM much more consistent with much else in my life – swiffering, cleaning my jewelry, rearranging my shoes – all of life’s important things), I got the best surprise ever. I’m talking BEST surprise – like Oprah screaming “You get a car! And you get a car! And YOU get a CAR!” And, if you’ve never seen that episode of Oprah, well, I’m more than happy to let you borrow my Oprah DVDs to let you enjoy that magical moment for yourself.

Similar to that momentous Oprah show, this surprise ranks right up there with someone telling you, oh I don’t know, you’re getting a Chanel handbag for free. I’ve never heard of that happening – even on Oprah. Do you get the level of pure ecstatic unspeakable JOY I’m talking about now? Like so exciting you can’t even STAND it?! Good. Now I can tell you the secret that’s not so secret anymore. This fashionista is having a baby! That’s right! A WHOLE OTHER TINY PRESON TO STYLE AND DRESS. With a WHOLE ROOM TO DESIGN. (Amongst other things, of course.) To top it off, this mini adorable wildchild human growing right now is a little BOY! A MiniMarshall, as I have taken to calling him. Will he be a mini-husband?! Probably. The good news is, he’s going to start his life off a lot better dressed.

So that is the best surprise ever that changed my life right when we were ringing in my new favorite year known as 2013. Here are a few fun tidbits of life with MiniMarshall thus far:

•      As you may or may not know, the husband is an emotional (but darling) wreck who has cried maybe more than his hormone-raged wife these last 5 months. He normally pairs his tears with a drink of choice – his friend Jamieson has helped him out a few times, and not 1 but 2 martinis were needed when we learned Mini was a BOY!
• ·     Hormones are kind of the best thing ever, because they get you out of everything. Tired? Hormones. Hungry? Hormones. Just feel like yelling at the husband? Hormones for sure! Can’t seem to make it from the couch to the kitchen to get your 9^th glass of fizzy water (which will never ever come close to replacing wine) and so you shed a tear or 2 to get “someone” to do it for you? Shoot, the hormones strike again!
• ·    I knew Mini was a boy. I am putting it in writing so maybe some day when his mother is rich and famous he will stumble across this lame blog and… I will feel validated that I was right! I knew it was a boy, so therefore I deserve a crown for already having that “motherly instinct” everyone keeps talking about. Crown aside (make sure it has diamonds and looks like Princess Kate’s), I really didn’t have the instinct, but I had this thing called an ultrasound. I’m not saying I SAW the boy parts. Any goofball could do that - I was the loser who couldn’t even see his feet. (Seriously, the kid has huge feet and I just pretended to see them until we left and I could figure it out myself. They were kicked back and resting – so obvious! What fetus wouldn’t be chilling out like that?) When we had an ultrasound early on, I knew this was a boy. Why? Because he was fist pumping! He had moves JUST like the husband’s. I don’t lie about Mini. He was in the womb, dancing around like a NUTCASE. And that’s when I knew.
• ·    I confirmed Mini was a boy several few weeks later, at the next ultrasound – again, I didn’t see the magical boy area, but this time, he was standing on his head the whole time. This further confirmed the craziness that is my future son. He was just the size of a bell paper, but he already had a much larger attitude.  The poor ultrasound technician was just trying to do her job, confirming he had normal baby stuff, like arms and legs. Of course, my child (in this case, the husband’s Mini for sure), had to be on his head. The entire time. Laying on his left arm.  Hiding it from us. Much to the tech’s dismay, we could not get o-stubborn-one to move around. This led me to believe for about 30 minutes that Mini did not have a left arm! This also led me to believe he was a boy, because no girl would be so uncooperative on a deadline. Finally, the tech finds the arm, hand, thumb and everything and she is so relieved (as am I – duh!). She proceeds with the appointment, and right when we are wrapping up, he starts WAVING his left hand around. I felt like he was saying, “Hey, freaks! Here’s my arm! Don’t know what you were looking for, bozos.”
• ·  Sure enough, an hour later, we were served a dessert covered in blueberries and my suspicions were confirmed… BOY. We were going to have a dancing, fistpumping, upside down, naughty, wild little boy! So, I gobbled down the dessert and like any good fashionista (oh and um parent) I went on a 3 day bender shopping spree.

I will share the tricks and trades of producing a fabulous and functional baby wardrobe in another entry, but here are some of my favorite pieces to wet your appetite. There are sure to be more, because I literally buy something 1-7 times per week. I’m not even going to get into how close my new office is to the best ever babies section at Nordstrom. Between that and the refrigerator and bathroom being just steps away, work is totally this mama-to-be’s paradise.

To say the least, Broke-O for Coco is getting broke-o from a whole new sector of shopping. Have you seen the strollers out there these days?! And did you know Burberry has baby line? Just sayin.

Signing off,

Broke-O and… MiniMarshall