I live in a bachelor pad

Most girls who have blogs show photos of their houses, and I think, "Gosh! That is so beautiful! I can't wait until I can have a home like that." So, I've decided to show y'all why I think that.

I live in a bachelor pad.

True story. It's a real. live. bachelor. pad.

In my living room, we have a couch that reclines - aaaand the matching love seat.

Isn't Mr. Business' undershirt hotttt?

Not only does it recline, but it has a "center console." And y'all, not just any center console. Ours has cupholders! And a speaker phone! (what??? Who even has a home phone anymore??) Wait, it gets better. It also has built-in massagers! You know, so when you come home from a rough day at work, your couch can knead out those stress spots!

Anyhow, the point of showing y'all a photo our bachelor pad is to say I'm going to turn the bachelor pad into a home! Okay, maybe not a home-home, but I'm going to organize it. (We have to keep the sofas.) I'm going to hang photos (we have three up right now). I'm going to make our mantle pretty, and decorate for Christmas. And - the best part - I'm going to blog about it! So come along for the ride - and please don't judge me on our messiness!

(In all fairness to Mr. Business, it's a great house. He bought it right after he'd turned 25 and got the furniture then too, and I know he never thought he'd be living here eight years later with a wife and a baby! And while we're looking for a new home, there isn't much on the market, so I'm making do with what we've got!)

A full week at the new jay-oh-be

So, I've officially been a stay-at-home mom for a week, and so far, so good! (There was a solid hour last Thursday I would have gone to work for McDonalds, but we won't discuss that...)

Bellie (yes, that's actually what we call Small Biz IRL, judge away) has gotten on a good schedule. The house has been vacuumed twice, and the dogs are happy to roam the townhouse during the day.

I have quickly realized that we don't have enough baby toys, if you're going to spend your days playing on the floor, pajama pants are the most comfortable clothes to wear, and Target can become on obsession!

Mike has left the house a few minutes earlier each day - and today he was out the door before 7am! He says he'll be home by 4 this afternoon to take a walk with us, but we'll see!

In other news, an old co-worker of mine had her baby last week! Reed is a precious little boy, but his mom is really sick. Erica had some serious abdominal surgeries in college, so they wanted to avoid giving her a c-section. She ended up having to have one, and lost a lot of blood. She's in the ICU at UNC Hospitals, but is getting better. If you're the praying type, please send one up for this darling family.

Ok, I hear Bellie waking up from her nap. I'll leave you with a picture from this weekend!

My Last Day of Work!

Today is my last day at work!

I am so excited - but in the spirit of being transparent - I am scared out of my mind! My entire adult life, I have worked for this association. My senior year of college, they were kind enough to take me on as an intern, and that fall, in Oct. 2007 (after months of me pestering them), they hired me as the event planner. Oddly enough, the largest "event" I had ever planned involved 25 people going out for dinner on New Year's Eve. But they took me on and trusted me to plan their convention. It was a huge undertaking, but I did it - twice the first year, and once this past year.

Then in 2008, they opened a different spot for me on the communications team, and I got to leave my super stressful events job to write, edit and make movies.

I worked here when I got engaged. I worked here when I found out I was pregnant. I worked here when I got married. (Yes, in that order.) I worked here when I had Small Biz. And now I'm leaving.

In 2007, I never thought this would be my only job. I thought I'd stay for a year and a half or two years, and move on. I thought this would be a great stepping stone. But I was able to grow here, I had great benefits, and I formed great relationships.

I really am going to miss it.

But I'm so excited. I get to go home and spend my day with this precious pumpkin and my nights with this cute guy.

Stay-at-home Mommyhood, here we come!

A sweet tooth like you wouldn't believe

I love my dogs. I really do. I'm not a "get on the floor and roll around" type of dog owner. Nor am I a "come snuggle in bed with me" type of dog owner. But I love taking them on long walks, letting them run on the beach out into the ocean, and teaching them new tricks and to be obedient.

All that said, my yellow lab is about to make me LOSE MY MIND. TC has ALWAYS had a penchant for eating. As a puppy, we had to hide food from her after she started taking DT's food by doing this:

We quickly realized she'd never be allowed to have table food, or else TC would be crazy obese and a horrible begger.

But then she got tall enough to reach the countertop. First it was rice krispy treats.

Then, two unbaked chocolate chess pies (raw eggs, cocoa and all!)

A raw sweet potato.

A raw hamburger patty.

A dozen pumpkin chocolate chip muffins and 2 loaves of the bread, warm out of the oven.

Then, this weekend, she discovered Small Biz's formula. Saturday afternoon, I was upstairs vacuuming, and came down to the kitchen to find this:

I was mad, but not too mad. The container was almost empty - there was probably enough powder left for 2-3 bottles.

So Sunday morning on our way to church, we stopped and bought another container. We probably made three bottles out of it between Sunday morning and last night. But after our morning walk today, we could not find TC. I finally went to the kitchen to make bottles for daycare, and then I couldn't find the formula.

The damn dog ate ANOTHER container FULL of formula! I found her in our guest room hiding under the bed, formula can between her front paws.

Who does that? Who eats a container full of formula? What's the weirdest thing your pet has eaten? What do you do to discourage that behavior? I am at such a loss!

I always wanted to be called Ezra

How did y'all decide what your parents would be called as grandparents? I was the first grandchild born (on both sides of my family), so I got to name all four grandparents. I'm sure my parents encouraged me, but in the end, I named Mema and Beba, Nannie and Papa. I remember when I was little asking my parents what they wanted to be named, and they always said, "We'll let the kids name us!" But then, that changed...for my dad at least.

I wrote this as an essay when I studied abroad in South Africa in 2006. It's just so funny to me, I wanted to share it again. I'm not editing it much from how it was then...an essay for a creative writing class I took. Hope y'all enjoy!

Wednesday we buried my grandmother.  Thursday I packed for the longest and farthest trip of my 21 year life span.  Thursday night I squeezed into my parents waterbed, making my 6 year-old brother jealous.   

That may sound weird, but it happens in my house.  My last night at home before going to college, when my heart has been broken, and nights when I have nightmares have always been spent nestled in bed with Mom and Dad.  This milestone was no different.

With my parents at the airport the next morning at 4am. Whew, I  hate looking at old heavy pics of myself!

We lay in bed talking about the past month and a half that I’d been home for Christmas break. We talked about the week we’d just had, and how we wished Nannie would be waving me goodbye at the airport in just a few hours. We laughed that despite the ten vacuum-packed bags I’d used to put my belongings into two massive suitcases, I would still need some of my favorite things shipped to me. They questioned my sanity and asked if I was sure I wanted to leave.

Around 2 a.m., silly from lack of sleep, I commented to anyone who was still awake that we were like three people so poor we had to share a room in a boarding house. 

Mom chuckled and added, “No, we’re so poor we have to share a BED in a boarding house.”
    
I rolled over to face her and trying to keep a straight face said, “Hi, I’m Febo.  What’s your name?”
    
“I’m Natalie,” she quickly replied.
    
“Mo-om, someone named Natalie can’t live in a boarding house.  It’s too proper of a name!”
    
“No, it’s okay.  I’m from Missouri,” she wittily replied.
    
Looking past her into the dark, I pointed to my dad and asked, “What do you suppose his name is?”
    
“Hmmm, Hank maybe?” she questioned.
    
“Oh no!  Hank’s my hound dog.  He’s sleeping over there in the corner,” I told her.  “I bet his name is Jeb.”
    
Just then my dad, who we thought had fallen asleep hours previously, rolled over.  In a long, exaggerated southern drawl, he said, “I’ve always wanted to be called Ezra,” before rolling away from us.
    
I don’t think my mom and I have ever laughed so hard, or for so long.  The waterbed rocked so hard, as our bodies reverberated with laughter that I was almost thrown off the side.  Again she asked, “Are you sure you want to get on that plane in 3 hours?”
    
“No,” I said.  “I’m not sure I want to, but I’m gonna do it.”

And that’s how I left home.  Exhausted, emotionally drained, and with perhaps the best memory I have with my parents.

Since then, the name Ezra has stuck with my dad. All of my friends started calling him Ezra, my mom even calls him Ez from time to time. And now, when we're talking to Small Biz, we refer to him as Ezra.

My Best Friend's Funeral

There. I said it: my best friend's funeral.

Most people post about weddings. I would LOVE to write a post about my best friend's wedding. But I can't.

She's dead.

She died.

That sounds so final doesn't it? I could say she passed away, which is also true. But that's what old people do. Old people pass away. Young people die. It's harsh, but it's real.

Most of the time I think Kim's on vacation. Like a vacation no one was looking forward to. In my head she's studying abroad - it sucks for us because we'll miss her, but I know she's enjoying it. Maybe that's how she felt when Chrissy and I left her in the same semester to study in England and South Africa. But it's not the same.

She's really gone. She's not coming back.

I'm sad. I miss her terribly. I keep thinking it was a dream. And in my dreams, I keep thinking she's here. Two nights ago (in my dream), I went with her to an appointment at UNC-Chapel Hill where the doctor's had a new miracle drug. They were able to cure her of breast cancer. I woke up excited - Kim was whole! Then I realized she is whole, she's just not whole on Earth.

At first I was mad - partly at her, partly at myself. Why did she leave us? Couldn't she have fought harder? Couldn't we have fought harder for her? Why did her doctors let this happen? Why didn't I take more pictures?

Then I realized I was thinking too much about myself. This wasn't about me. This was about Kim. And she was ready.

On Good Friday, one of her good friends hosted a fundraiser cookout at her parents house. We raised almost $6,000 to help Kim and her family with medical expenses. Kim had been at the hospital for the week leading up to the party, and was released that morning - just in time to come! It was raining, so she sat inside in a comfy chair and held court. She got to see all of her favorite people and their families - which is something she had told us all she wanted to happen.

On Saturday, Mr. Business, Small Biz and I took her some S'meeps for Easter and visited for a while. She danced around her parents living room with Small Biz - her goddaughter. I so wish now I'd gotten a picture...and stayed longer.

On Wednesday, she sent out a few tweets. My favorite was this one:

 

 It's such a simple tweet. But it's so true. And I'm so, so, so very grateful to have it, because on Wednesday night, she passed away.

And I've heard people talk about funerals and call them a "celebration" of life. In the past, I've always thought that was spin. But on Saturday, April 30, we celebrated the hell out of Kim's life. Her parent's asked everyone to wear sundresses, which was very fitting since I NEVER saw Kim wear black.

The always amazing, but even-more-so-in-the-time-of-need Chrissy managed to get a marching band to come. Seriously, 18 people from our high school's marching band learned Weezer's Island in the Sun the night before, and processed out of the church playing it.

After the funeral, a huge group went to K38 in Wilmington,where I believe we held up a front room for hours and hours. Chrissy's friends from college all came in, friends from high school we hadn't seen in YEARS were there. We all passed pictures around, caught up on each other's lives, and laughed. It was sad. It was healing. It reminded me how lucky I am to have such a strong support group - in the good times and the bad.

And when we were done, I realized how lucky I am that my friend isn't in pain anymore. She's whole. And I have been left with fabulous memories.

 I choose to remember this.

New Blog Design!

Hi everyone!

I feel like Spring is finally here! I know it's officially been Spring for quite a while, but I feel like it's just now consistently warm. Anyhow, in honor of consistently beautiful days, I have a new blog design! Yes, you read that correctly, I actually spent time making my blog pretty! I'm hopeful it makes me blog more...

So, if you're reading this in your Reader, click on over and check it out! It's a very simple design - in my wedding colors, of course! And if you're in the market for an inexpensive, pretty and non-fussy blog makeover, check out the wonderful Lindsey at Sweet Simplicity Designs.