Kelle, Author at Enjoying the Small Things

Miami (also known as A Really Big Post)

June 6, 2010 By Kelle

So, while my life generally consists of a nice juggling of laundry folding, picnics in the yard and afternoons scouring cookbooks for recipes with ingredients we actually have on hand, there are times when a whole lotta fabulousness rains on us all in one weekend. Not that home making isn’t fabulous. I wouldn’t trade my days home with my girls for the world. It was my first pick for The Life I Dreamed Of. And fortunately, I won the lotto there. But, if The Life I Dreamed Of hadn’t panned out, I had The Back-up Plan. And The Back-up Plan involved some fabulous city, hailing cabs, wearing heels and pretending I was really, really important. It’s still my alter ego. And, this weekend…I dipped into it, head first.

Here’s the cool thing. While previous fabulous nights had me choosing between kids and crazy fun like there was a difinitive line separating the two, sometimes fabulousness allows us to merge the two. Sometimes, we can wear heels and feel like a rockstar while slingin’ our baby to our chest–get this: at the same time. Gasp.

So it was Friday night when I glossed my lips and slipped into my heels to join the girls for the Sex and the City movie.

And, because my girl won’t take a bottle, she got to come with. And, how cool it was to blend my polar opposites–my home-lovin’ mama heart with my inner city girl–as I jammied my girl and patted her down with some Burt’s Bees to make her smell extra delicious for all the lovins I knew she’d be getting from my friends…and popped her in the sling, nestled right next to my fabulous dress, and high-tailed it out in my sky-high heels for a night of fabulousness…baby on board.

And I spent the evening huddled in a dark theatre alternating my eyes between Carrie Bradshaw and my sleepin’ girl who was passed down the line of my friends.

…who looked really fabulous, might I add.

And here’s my great shoes, juxtapositioned nicely between the wad of toilet paper resting on the floor in my bathroom stall.

And that was only the beginning of the weekend’s fabulousness because Saturday morning, my girls and I headed out across 75 to the other side of Florida to meet Katie in Miami.

I met Katie the night she was the scheduled nurse for Lainey’s delivery. And then she just went and crawled up in my heart and never came out. She loves my girls and we love her. And she lives in a fabulous condo overlooking the Miami skyline.

We commenced our morning strolling up Lincoln Rd., stopping in little shops, sipping lattes in cafe chairs, and fanning menus to cool the sweaty babies (who we eventually let strip down to diaper/undies because it was that hot).

We savored sangria, meandered our way around the palm tree peppered streets and dove into air-conditioned coffee shops every ten minutes to cool off the babies…

Miami Beach is saturated with culture and color. As we zig-zagged the stroller through throngs of bikini-clad women and cigar peddlars and made our way past art deco hotels piping out Cuban beats and graciously cooling us pedestrians with fan misters, I tried to drink it in…the moment…the memory…the awesome truth that there are so many fabulous places in this world that allow us to suck the marrow out of life a little more and still be mamas.

That’s a bike with no seat. ???? What the? Uncomfortable.

By lunchtime when we breaked for an ice tea at an outside cafe on Ocean Dr., it was torturous hot. We were greased with sweat, blowing on the babies to keep them cool and I couldn’t even cross my legs without them slipping apart. Discomfort that requires expletives for explanation, in case you were wondering. So, Lainey and Nella and I ditched inside Sephora while Katie took a cab back to get the car. Lainey thought Sephora was heaven. I allowed her three disposable lip gloss wands and we strolled through the aisles until she pointed out the lipgloss she wanted to try. A purple Lancome. A pink Clinique. A peachy Yves Saint Laurent. You would have thought I took her to Disneyworld.

Two minutes and three used lipgloss wands later, we were, I’m sure, annoying the associates. So we left back into the heat and onto 8th and Collins where I stood on the corner, attempting to discretely nurse a sweaty Nella and keep a stroller from rolling into the street while waiting for Katie to pull up and rescue us. Some guy holding a stack of nightclub V.I.P. passes actually came up to me and said “You lookin’ for a nightclub tonight?” Dude, does it look like I’m looking for a nightclub? I’m nursing a baby and pushing a stroller. When in Rome doesn’t exactly apply to everyone.

We skipped the nightclub and instead headed back to Katie’s where the pool welcomed us and we happily dove in…

How’s that for a pool view?

And, just about the time we were going to head across the Ally back home, the sky went from this…

to this…

And driving on a narrow stretch of freeway between two alligator-laden swamps in the middle of a monsoon is not my idea of a good time…or a safe one, so we called it a night and opted for a sleepover right there on the 32nd floor, overlooking Miami.

The view from our bed last night…

…and this morning…

Good Morning, Miami!

Katie, we love you so very much. If we can borrow your happenin’ city single life from time to time, you can borrow our cozy family waffle-making, cookie-baking life anytime you want. xoxo

And the icing on the cake was arriving home today to a package from my cousin’s wife who made my girls the most beautiful matching apron dresses that they just might live in for the rest of their lives. Thank you, Madison! Her Etsy shop here.

So, the fabulous weekend may have come to an end, but joy still awaits in the morning.

Oh wait…walked by this cool store in Miami…

…which had me thinking…how ’bout one? A random commenter will win a $50 gift certificate from Belkai Designs. Winner will be announced this Tuesday. Oh, and if you feel like it, let me know where you’re from when you comment.

Stream of Consciousness, Baby.

June 2, 2010 By Kelle

I like that when I go to type the title “Stream of Consciousness,” Blogger predicts it with just the first few taps of S-t-… Apparently, it’s a frequent post. And frame of mind, might I add.

So, with that said…here we go.

You know what I love? I love getting e-mails from mamas who are pregnant and just found out their little has D.S. I love the way my heart leaps for them because I know just where they are. I love that when I hit “reply,” there is a blank screen there and that my fingers can’t type fast enough to fill it. And I want to scoop them from their place and wormhole them through the Internet into our home. I want to hug them and say, “Look. Look here. Happiness, Babe. You’re gunna be fine.” I like that.

I love days when the house is a mess and I don’t know what to make for dinner and I’m wearing yoga pants for the third day in a row and halfway through the afternoon, my friend calls and says, “Wanna come over?” and I say, simply, Yes. Yes, I want to come over. And I get out of dodge like a bat out of hell, leaving everything because sometimes, sanity comes in the form of friends and their pools and their really cute kid who loves my girl like a sister.

They swam. They swam like their lives depended on it, pruning their fingers, drenching their lashes into long drippy black strips–very Baby Mabelline.

And Anna Ruth and I lounged poolside sipping our Southern sweet teas (Anna Ruth being the true Southern Belle, you know) and playing with the Little Miss while the bigger misses jumped and splashed and carefully chose which Polly Pockets and Little Ponies would be so lucky to join them in the shallow end…

I love this friend of my girl. A full year older than Lainey, perfect for idolizing and adoring and a good one for the role because she is sweet as pie…southern peach pie, of course.

And Lainey was just a dream yet to be back when we fell in love with Miss Baylee…

And now…swoon. They’re besties…and look, us mamas even subconsciously matched their swimsuits.

And Nella was along for the ride, trailing back from the pool tucked in Baylee’s stroller with half-painted pigs hangin’ out. The essence of Chill, my little one.

We had a follow-up cardiologist appointment today…nothing D.S. related but rather just a check to see if a small, unconcerning hold had closed. She smiled through the whole thing…even earned herself a Barbie sticker on her diaper because she was that good.

I think doctors and clinics and places that prick and poke and invade our space are scary for mamas. No one wants to be there and just the entrance into these places causes a little jolt…a brief sickening feeling where you wonder what if and how could and oh, I could never…but you do it. I never thought I could live the whole therapist-in-my-house-every-week-for-three-years thing either but once you cross that bridge, you realize it’s okay. You seperate the clinical from the emotional and begin to appreciate the amazing world of medical advancements. It’s a small part of the bigger picture and a part that is critical in allowing the bigger picture to be more beautiful. And, I’m so thankful for these people that know what they do to make life a little more grand for my littles…for us.

So, we smile. Even if we’re covered with stickers and electrodes.

I love returning from a crazy morning of throwing things in diaper bags, u-turning to backtrack a missed street, shlepping a carseat through a maze of medical buidling hallways, painfully discovering that the underwire on my bra has dislodged and is attempting to drill a hole through my left side while I nod my head, pretending I understand medical terms that are far above my head, and finally zipping through yellow lights to get a hungry baby home only to have to pull over in a Wendy’s parking lot to nurse her in the front seat while some guy taps on my window (there were other people around, thankfully) and asks, through the small crack I allowed him to peek through, “Are you Jennifer?”

No, dude. I’m not Jennifer. And I don’t want to know why you were supposed to meet a girl you’ve never met in a Wendy’s parking lot. I’m just sayin.

And after all that, we came home. We read books and tickled and lounged around in bed being silly and prolonging naps like good mamas sometimes do.

I like the way she stretches her arms out when she’s sidled next to me, nursing in bed.

I like the way Lainey had a mad case of the sillies at naptime today.

I love my happy place, my happy girls.

And, thank you, Daddy. Along with really good dad and super cool husband, you are finding yourself a pretty good picture-taker title too.

Memorial Day

May 31, 2010 By Kelle

It’s quiet. The hush inside the house with most of its inhabitants settling into late afternoon naps is complemented nicely with the staccato downpour of a comforting rain outside the house.

And by ‘most inhabitants,’ I mean everyone except myself and the little one who stretches happily next to me.

The girl has found her thumb. And I am quite entertained with cheering her on as she frantically fumbles her fist in front of her, rooting at her cluster of fingers until she finds it–that blessed thumb–and satisfactorily settling into a rhythmic suck.

Not that she needs the comfort. The little bean exemplifies the beauty of Chill and spent the weekend contented by nothing more than being surrounded by much love.

We welcomed friends this weekend. Good friends who came into our lives this year and have settled into new places in our hearts. And when new souls come into our lives for good reason, there’s just one place to take them to initiate new friendships…new futures.

Why, it’s the Isle of Capri, Baby. And our place delivered. Bringing us another magical day where we simply be. Existing contentedly, happily amongst sun and sand which saturated us with their presence and their reminder to drink it all in.

And that we did.

We swam. We kayaked. We sipped cold beer, dipped grouper in thick tarter sauce and slurped hot seafood chowder. We watched as littles ran from crabs and attempted to contain the gelatinous goop from jellyfish in their grasp.

We hugged hot babies that were cooled by the sea breeze and made beds for them between chairs in the shade.

We kissed the salty cheeks of sweaty toddlers and later marked the salty craters of low tide with the footprints of our friends.

We celebrated with dock dives and rollicking splashes.

…and then came the sunset. Oh, the sunset. The ceremonious end to a magical day.

The cue for last hoorahs and the grand finale of multi-hued light that slowly fades past the horizon while bodies transfigure to mystical silhouettes.

And, as darkness curtains over the beach, we head inside the tiki hut for just a little more. The last dance of the night…another dollar on the bar beam, another notch on the belt of Really Good Times.

…and the last of her sweet smiles for the night before the jammied little body, souveniered with sand, settles into her sleep hunch in the car seat next to her sister on the long ride home.

To our new beautiful friends–David & Nadya and Meg…you’ve been sworn in. You’ve shared “our place.” That’s love, you know. And to our “old” friends…thank you for joining us again for an incredible weekend…where many more memories shall bloom.

…and that’s Memorial.