Holy Moly...

Lemme paint a little picture for you all---A certain 21 month old is sitting at the dining room table, dipping a paintbrush into her half eaten yogurt and picasso-ing all over the table top. Every now and then she delicately maneuvers the brush up to her eyelids, applying her "makeup" with precision. And her darling 4 year old sister is slowly but surely lugging all of the bedding (foam mattresses and all) from upstairs and making a "nest" in the middle of the living room floor. But you know what these two little dears AREN'T doing? They aren't pretending their sweet mother is a bucking bronco, or pulling her hair, or screaming her name. Which is why she is sitting down to blog for the first time in 3 months. And ya know what else? I'm talking about ME. Bet you didn't see that one coming...

Oh, little blog! How I've missed you! I know what yer thinking---yer thinkin' I'm a lyin' cheatin' yellow bellied lilly livered no good sonoffabeach. And I don't blame you. Cause I have been cheatin'. Cheatin' with a little thing called LIFE. And I ain't sorry! But you knew I'd come back. I always come back. I can't promise I'll stay. I can't promise to love you, and only you, for the rest of my life. But I'm here now, ain't I? So stop yer belly-achin'!

Forgive me. That was Ol' Bayou Nessa. She makes an appearance whenever I get really upset. Or play poker. And you should see when Sam and I fight. Bone chilling.

Anyway, I have about a billion things to talk to you about. Currently my list of things to document goes as follows:

My birthday
Parents visit to NYC
Final days in the big apple
Sam's new job
Our cross-country move
Palmer Family reunion in NC
Trip to Utah
Collard family reunion in UT
Trip to Idaho
Muir Woods
Getting settled in California (knows how ta party)

I'm getting the shakes just thinking about it all. And I'm certain I'm forgetting several life-altering events, because our life has been altered in pretty much every way possible. Including Sam's gender.

Just kidding. But one thing that HAS changed is that I was only 26 when I wrote my last blog post. And now I'm 27. I'm no spring chicken. Momentous, I know. But my birthday festivities were, indeed, momentous. To kick things off we met some of our very favorites (the Bischoffs) up in Connecticut for a little o' this:

Have you ever tried to draw a heart with the "paint" application? Holy crap. That's definitely not something I could have done when I was only 26.

 Forrest Gump wave.

Eve and Skylee have a special relationship. It consists of Skylee enthusiastically trying to engage Eve in everything wondrous about the world. And Eve trying to use telekinesis to bind and gag her in her stroller.

Notice the sequence of events:

We deduced it's most likely caused by a severe case of "little curl syndrome." 

Oh, Eve! You curls won't be nappy and piffy forever! 

We ended the evening with cheesecake and swimming at our hotel. 

Literally one of my very favorite days in all my 27 years. 

When we got home, Sam surprised me with tickets to see "Phantom of the Opera" on broadway. IN THE 10th ROW! And I was ugly-face crying nearly the whole time. Cause I'm super stable and not dramatic at all. Sam was especially grateful that he was able to listen to my attempts to hit the notes at the end of "Angel of Music" for the duration of the ride home. It was really the least I could do.

The weekend after my birthday my parents came to visit. 

We went to see the beloved Hoboken waterfront:

And, of course, blew their minds with a little trip into the Big City.

My mom was most excited to see one of the Trump Towers. It even made her lurch her arm around in this strange sort of spastic flapping captured here.

And then we found out it wasn't even a Trump Tower. And she was ashamed.

Columbus Circle, by Central Park.

Two of my very favorite ladies.

"Hiking" in Central Park:

 The Turkey Sub was TRILLED to have grammy and poppa at school the morning she was "honored." Her teachers presented her with a medal and read a little speech they prepared about her, choosing one word to best describe her. It was, "expressive." No surprises there. But it was the cutest, most tender little presentation I've ever witnessed. More on that later. 

We wrapped up the visit with a little jaunt to see Lady Liberty in all her glory. And I may or may not have claimed, matter of factly, that the actual statue was only 40 feet tall, much to the shock of my parents. And then I backed it up with all sorts of made of facts that I thought I had read somewhere or seen somewhere in a documentary. And then when my dad finally fact checked me and revealed the statue to be 300 feet tall, and not 40, I was discredited and shamed in front of my whole family and everyone on the pier, and all of the sudden everything I'd told my parents up to that point was brought into question.  

But I don't regret it. And I'd do it again. Because when you're hosting, you've gotta look like you know a little something about something...  

Look at these cute people! And the statue behind them! Which is not nearly as big as you'd think it is... it's only 40 feet tall... 

Just looking at these pictures is giving me a great, big (apple) sized lump in my throat. See what I did there? With the Big and the Apple? Big Apple?

Sorry. 

It was a most excellent trip. 

Moving on! 

Just kidding. Now I will make an end to my writings because I've only knocked off 2 of my list of a gajillion things to tell you about and it's getting too bleep long. But it's good to be back. Real good. Luff you.