We've gone apple picking as a family every October since Eli was born. This was his third trip to the orchard and once again we had a fantastic time filling our bag with fresh apples, sampling a few on the way, and plotting some of the delicious goodies we'll make from our harvest (this year: apple butter, applesauce, apple crisp, and maybe some muffins? Plus plenty for snacks with almond butter). Apples just taste better when they're straight off the tree.

Every time I've started to write a post lately, it's been all over the place. I have lots of things to talk about: my looming birthday, a life-changing wardrobe organizing trick I just learned, the most epic of Pinterest fails, the internal debate that's still raging on about running a half marathon in less than a month, FEELINGS GALORE.

I try really hard not to let this turn into a mama blog, but the only thing I seem to be able to talk about right now is my wee boy. So, even though it's not a birthday milestone for him, here's a little glimpse into the life of Eli Alexander as of late.

[+] Pete and I had our first night away from Eli on the weekend. I didn't post about it beforehand because hi, come rob our house! But we were gone for a couple days, and spent a night at a hotel while Eli stayed with my parents. 24 hours away from the wee guy was rough. Most of the time, I was thinking about what Eli was doing/praying he was sleeping and not going ballistic/texting for Eli updates. It was also awesome: we had massages, went out for dinner, enjoyed breakfast in our room, went to the gym, went swimming, had drinks, and slept in. By "slept in" I mean "woke up at 6:30 and tried to go back to sleep until 9:00 and then just got up because we were too excited to see Eli." One day I will sleep in again. Just not anytime soon.

[+] Eli and I went to play soccer after work yesterday. I had big visions of us merrily kicking a soccer ball back and forth. What I didn't realize was how fast he is - it's easy to underestimate those little legs. He kept running towards the jungle gym, which was full of "big kids" doing God knows what - I presume smoking weed or eating bath salts or whatever kids are doing these days - so we didn't stay long.

[+] I'm discovering some tricks to get Mr. Fussy to eat. One, he loves ketchup. Kid will eat anything dipped in ketchup. Two, applesauce. If he's not eating his veggies I stir them into some applesauce: boom, down the hatch.

[+] Eli has finally started giving kisses. I swoon every single time.

[+] He's sprouting eight teeth at the same time: four eye teeth and four molars.

[+] Today he was looking at his Star Wars ABC book, turned to the Darth Vader page, pointed at the big D, and said, "D!" I freaked out, and went all "MY BOY'S WICKED SMAAAHT". Then he proceeded to call all the letters D. Relax, crazy mother.

There you have it: a peek at the life of a 17-month-old. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming of feelings, Pinterest mashups, and lists of gifts I would like to receive soon enough.

There are so many things about Eli right now that I don't want to ever forget. He'll be eight months old tomorrow and it's such a fun age. I feel like I say that about all the ages, but really, he keeps getting more and more awesome to be around.


Here are some of the things I want to remember:

The crazy way his hair stands up like a fluffy dandelion on top.
The way he giggles, babbles, sings and coos when he's having fun.
The way he waves his arms when he gets excited, like a bird flapping his wings.
The chubbiness of his feet and legs. Oh, those thigh rolls.


His ticklishness and the cackly giggle he does when you tickle him.
The way he thrashes his arms and legs around when you throw a blanket over him and ask, "Where's Eli?" And the huge smile you get when he finally pops out.
How he dances to any and all music. He's not picky about the genre. He just likes to bop.
The way he's just as amused with a napkin or a plastic water bottle as he is with the fanciest toys.
The way he rips apart his alphabet mat every single day.
The way he freaks out in the bathtub every evening, as if each bath is the BEST. TIME. EVER.
How he giggles at the dog whenever we come downstairs and pulls on his ears whenever he can get ahold of them.

Eli turns eight months old tomorrow. I'm happy I've been able to spend the past eight months with this little guy and am looking forward to our summer together.

To my dad...



...and my favourite dad to be...



Happy Father's Day!

We spent the day in New Brunswick hanging out with my family. We visited with Pete's parents on the way home and had a quick bite with them. Since Peter's not officially a dad yet, we kept things pretty lowkey around here, although Baby Mango (yes, it's the size of a MANGO this week whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?) wanted to get a little present for Daddy, so we picked this out:

I was six years old, sitting at the kitchen table eating Froot Loops and toast before school. My dad looked out the living room window, all nonchalant. "There's a turtle in the driveway!" he shouted. I dropped my spoon on the floor and dashed to look outside, squinting and looking for the alleged turtle.

Dad apparently thought tricking a gullible six-year-old first thing in the morning was quite the crowning achievement. "April Fool's! Fooled you!" he crowed and paraded around the living room like he was hot shit. I was so disappointed I almost cried.

Ever since that day, I've hated April 1. A day when it's OK to lie, trick people, and generally act like an asshat? It just seems wrong. I have exes who apparently live in a perpetual state of April 1.

Basically, if you participate in April Fool's Day, you're a horrible person.

Just say no and be nice today. And if someone announces today that they're pregnant or lottery winners, or that you're actually adopted, or that there's a turtle in the driveway, don't be stupid.

In other news: Happy Friday!