It's No Leopard

We got a lovely little surprise in the mail at the end of last week--a super cute snow leopard faux fur coat from our dear friends the Chesbros. It was so sweet and so unexpected...and came in handy for our trip to the park on Monday. (Plus it might have just sealed the deal for our children's arranged marriage if they have a boy...)

Ryan and I didn't think about the fact that it was MLK Day--meaning the park was SUPER crowded with desperate moms looking for ways to wear out their kids--so we spent most of our time taking pictures of Emma Vance. (Twist our arms--right?)

When we were getting dressed to play and take our pictures, E.V. looked worried.

"Mom, I'm afraid of snow leopards. They might eat me!"

(Confused mom moment.)

"Little one, snow leopards won't eat you."

"Yeah huh. I saw it on the National Geographic Channel. And my jacket is a snow leopard!"

(Thoughtful mom moment.)

"No, little one, your jacket isn't snow leopard; it's no leopard."

Problem solved. (And, yes, I have these amusing conversations "with" Emma Vance in real life. She's quite witty, actually...ha!)

Thank you, Bran and Erin! We are so excited for you to join us on this side of parenting. :)

Chucks at Church

Ready to play with her Waumba Land friends in her pink Converse Chucks at church today! (Thank you, Ivy Stull!) 

Why I Blog

Agreed.

Several years ago, when Ryan first suggested I start a blog, I rolled my eyes at him. I'm not a "blogger." It's a little lame and self-indulgent, don't you think? Then, after finding out we were pregnant, I had the urge to start a journal so as to remember all of the special moments of our future child's life, beginning with Day One (literally). To start, I tried a "one line a day" journal, which turned out to be completely unfulfilling because, well, who EVER thought that a mere one line a day was enough to encapsulate a person's life? Then I tried a traditional journal, but handwriting my thoughts seemed to take for-ev-er. Plus I'm a total perfectionist and a pen lover, so when I'd mess up a word or rewrite a thought, it was frustrating...

So I started a blog. I never really intended on ever considering myself "a blogger," but here, a year and 200ish entries later, I'm pretty sure I don't have a choice in the matter anymore. It's become my hobby, and I have to admit that I really like doing it. If you don't blog, I give you permission to roll your eyes and consider me a bit self-indulgent for admitting that. :)

I have a lot of friends who blog, and with the New Year and new life transitions, the idea of blog-re-evalutation seems to be a reoccurring theme amongst my fellow writers. Most of the resolutions seem to include "blog less, live more," and it's made me think: Should I  be blogging less in order to be living more?

In doing my blog-related soul searching, I called my mom and asked her if she remembers the time, as a child, that I locked myself in my brother Jon's room. It's the oldest memory I have that's both a shared experience and isn't part of our family's usual rotation of stories.

I can remember it so clearly: We lived in New York, so I was maybe like two or three. My friend Hillary was over, and we wanted to hold my cat, Boo Boo. We were chasing her around the house and eventually trapped her in my brother's room. I remember everything so vividly--his orange comforter, the floors, the window...the door I slammed shut in order to corner the cat. We eventually got bored and tried to leave his room, but I had somehow managed to lock the door from the inside. Being so young, I couldn't figure out how to get out, and so I panicked. My mom and brother were on the other side of that door, trying to instruct a toddler how to unlock it. I remember being scared and confused. The end result? They actually took off the handle in order to rescue us. I have a vivid memory of this harrowing experience perhaps mostly because my mom gave us giant pixie sticks once we were freed, which was thrilling as a kid.

The whole experience, obviously, had an impact on me and has stayed with me my whole life. When I mentioned it to my mom (now 28 years later) she said, "Do I remember you being locked in Jon's room? Which time?" Huh. NOT the response I was looking for.

So, instead of concluding "yes" or "no" to whether I should "blog less to live more," my realization is this: Blogging, for me, doesn't take take me away from living life; it helps me to remember the life that I have already lived.

I blog because time is fleeting and steals our memories from us. I want to remember every little thing about Emma Vance's life, about my life, and blogging is a way to do that. Looking back even now makes me smile. She's grown up so much in just these past six months, and our lives have changed so much in the past year. I can't believe how many memories we've formed in such a short time, and how many memories have already begun to fade. Remember Emma Vance's incessant newborn hiccups? The sound they made and how bad I felt for my sweet, tiny baby? Or how she used to look so content all cozied up in her swaddling blanket, eager for a night's rest in her bassinet? What about the first time she sat up on her own--how proud she was of herself, and how surprised I was? Those moments are already part of my past, of her past, and they're becoming harder and harder to recall with each passing day. This space gives those small moments permanence, and if we're really honest with ourselves, we know deep within us that life is composed mostly of small, quickly passing moments.

I know that I could accomplish this sense of permanence in a traditional journal. And perhaps the thoughts recorded there would be more honest and more telling of who I truly am and what our lives are truly like if it were more private. To me, though, blogging has a greater benefit: Anyone who wants can follow along as well. Friends and family who are scattered around the globe, I'm glad to invite you into our little world. It's not always pretty, I won't always share the nitty gritty of the yucky things in life, and sometimes the picture taking WILL be on the obnoxious side, but if you've made the effort to actually click through and see what's up in our lives, then welcome! As an adult, and as a parent, the reality is that my time (and your time) is gobbled up with daily necessities and things that are immediate; however, connecting, sharing, and communicating with people in life is important, and this is an efficient and fun way of doing it. And, yes, I'm reading along with you as well, peering into your lives through your writing and photographs, enjoying your experiences and gaining perspective on my own along the way. So, friends, please keep posting if it suits you, and please know that I am following along, rooting for you and happy for the things God is doing in your lives.

Yesterday, as I was thinking about this post, I pulled this quote out and thought it captured my heart for blogging so well:

Covet and cherish things small and faded, 
carry them in your pocket until they wear a hole.
It is good to do this all of your life.

Truly, friends, I desire to cherish these moments, to carry them with me all of my life, to share them with anyone who enjoys following other sojourners' travels throughout this time we have here on earth. I hope you do, too. And one day, when Emma Vance is all grown up with children of her own, when she's in moments of self-doubt, when she's at a crossroads in her life, when I'm long gone and she misses me, I hope that my words give her hope and remind her of all of the small and faded moments in her life that have made it wonderful.

One of Those Days

Today was one of Those Days. You know, the ones where nothing seems to go your way? A baby who woke up early, refused to eat all day and then slept a total of maybe two hours in naps during the last TWELVE hours; a sick dog who threw up four times in various places around the house, always seeming to miss the tile and wood floors in order to seek out carpeting; a lack of handicap spots for our early bird dinner out; a voice clamoring to just sleep the day away, an opposing voice screaming that the house is a mess--and in your mind it's a draw, so neither voice wins, resulting in a wasted-day feeling...

...and then this happened.

Thank my lucky stars Ryan was here to capture this sweet moment. After five hours of wakefulness, Emma Vance finally passed out in my arms on the way into the house from lunch, and I would've held her all day if only she would've stayed asleep and peaceful. Didn't you just LOVE the feeling of  being completely exhausted and having your mom or dad carry you to your bed as a kid? I sure did, and I think our little lady does, too. Sigh. I'm officially NOT looking forward to  when she's too big for me to carry.

Dear 20 Year Old Talie

Wow. I'm getting old, huh? :)

Dear 20 Year Old Talie,

You turn 30 today. Remember when you thought people who were in their 30s were way, way old? Well, you're still going to feel that way, even when it's your turn. You are going to breeze through your 20s in what feels like an instant, and on your 30th birthday, you'll look back at the past decade and wonder how so many years could've passed without you noticing. Thankfully you still feel about 25, so you at least have that going for you.

Here, ten years down the road, there are a few things I'd like to let you know while you still have those fleeting years ahead of you...

Rest now and be at ease. Life over the next decade is going to be a bit of a roller coaster, starting from the moment you walk through those arches. Enjoy your next few years as a college student. You won't realize it while it's happening, but being a student is easy and fun. Don't wish away those last few semesters at UGA in anticipation for adulthood; they'll be some of the free-est times in your life. Enjoy your friends' company especially, because once you graduate you'll never have them living so close again. It's a rare and wonderful thing to have so many of the people who know you best within a few steps' reach, and you'll miss that once it's over. Also, I know you can't comprehend this yet, but a lot of things don't matter on this side as much as they do on that side--what sorority you're in (NO ONE will ever ask you again after college, and you'll eventually learn that it really didn't ever matter); what your major is (you're going to end up a self-employed artist, so...yeah); whom you're dating (you'll be married right after college and will laugh at all of those past boyfriends); even your GPA, extra curriculars and achievements won't really be a topic of conversation once Athens is part of your past. I know, I know--those things seem like life or death now, but trust me when I say that their importance is fleeting. What will matter in the long run is the relationships you form.

In fact, you know all of those friends you're hanging out with now? You'll be glad to know that a lot of them are still around ten years later. Scotty's here, and (spoiler alert) she marries Tim Carley. (Yes, THE Tim Carley.) Tim works for Young Life (no surprise there), and they've got two of the world's cutest kids. Her lifelong dream of owning a minivan came true, although Aiwa Wong, unfortunately, did not stand the test of time. (Could you tell her those things for me? I think she'd be excited to hear how wonderful life turns out for her. Oh, and tell her to ignore that current urge that she has to be a teacher, okay?) She's a constant in your life, and one day you'll look back at high school and be thankful that she let you be her friend. Alli's still in your life as well. Even after almost 12 years of friendship you can hardly believe that you barely knew each other before college. (Well done in choosing her as a roommate! Although, be careful. She has a LOT of dirt on you from that time spent in Russell Hall, so watch yourself, and for God's sake, stop being a Talie Tornado!) She's a voice of reason in your life, so listen to her advice once in a while--please? Oh, and Ashley D's here, married to a witty ranch hand who becomes a professional Boy Scout that loves antiques and bakes a mean pecan pie...no kidding. (Mention it to her, will you? I bet she'll never believe you!) Natalie's about to have her THIRD kid with Britt Kitchen, and she's one of the most admirable moms, teachers and women you know to date (still). As it turns out, Beth marries Hot Robert; Abbey marries that guy from her past that she mentioned in 5o5 small group the other day; Katie J marries that friend of Ryan's from high school and Theta Chi; Sarah Hull moves to Colorado to find her soulmate...gosh, the list goes on and on. Pretty much all of your girlfriends marry awesome guys and make amazing, wonderful life decisions. Your girlfriends are solid, so don't be afraid to speak encouragement into their lives now. And, one day when being geographically separated from them makes annual or semi-annual catch-up lunches the norm, it's okay to just pick up wherever you left off last; it's just a fact of adulthood. Oh, and I have to mention--remember Joe Engert from high school? He's in your life too (along with Danielle Adams), through a few twists of fate that I'll leave as a surprise. In fact, a LOT of people you know now will become your lifelong friends, so take lots of ridiculous pictures that you can laugh at in a decade or so, okay?

And, of course, there are some new people, too--friends you've made along the winding road of your 20s. Once college is over, you'll learn that it's hard to make new friends, and your relationships are different. Everyone acts much more grown up, doing things like wine tastings and couples' vacations--things you'll roll your eyes at now. (Enjoy late night snacks, watching "The Bachelor" with a ton of girls, and hippie concerts at The Georgia Theater while you still can!) Your adulthood friends will be mostly people from your various jobs, several from church and small groups, and a few from random encounters in your life. A lot of these people will be "friends" only during particular seasons in your life, and some will be forever. It's okay; let those relationships come and go naturally. Regardless of how long they're around, these people are important in forming you into You, and you're going to love and appreciate every one of them for that reason. Remember to thank them for that influence every once in a while.

Oh, and that guy you're dating, Ryan Shove? Well, just to clue you in, he's The One. I know you already know that deep down, and it's okay to feel that way, even so early in the relationship. Hold that knowledge close to your heart and guard it with everything you have in you. He is going to be the most important person on this earth to you for the rest of your life, and it begins right where you're currently standing. Down the road, you'll be thankful for meeting him at such a young age. You'll get to grow up alongside one another, and one day you'll realize that you're different, better people because of the journey you've been on together. Ryan is the man that God made to be your husband, the one you'll see as you walk down the aisle on a dream-like night in late November; the one who will hug you and kiss your forehead when you reach that altar lit by a hundred candles; the one to whom you will say a resounding, meaningful "I do" when asked the most important question of your earthly life. He's going to be the man who knows you more deeply than any other person in the world, the person who loves you more than you can fathom, the father of your children. He will come to know you in your fullest, and you will find comfort in that. You two are going be partners in life, balancing one another perfectly, living life more happily together than when alone. You're going to love him even MORE in ten years than you do now, as hard as that is to believe. There are going to be times when you doubt that your relationship will ever come to this, but listen to that small voice deep within you that tells you to hold on to him. When he's hundreds of miles away at school for a full year, when you feel like you're not worthy to be his, when you feel like you can't fight for him anymore, remember that it all turns out like a fairytale in the end. You will never have a honeymoon phase, because phases are fleeting. Instead you will have a happily ever after, and on that final page of the story there's a picture of you and Ryan, elderly and looking all google-y eyed at one another.

I know this is going to sound terrible to you in this moment, but one day it will make you so very happy in life: You're going to be a mom. It's okay that having a baby sounds undesirable to you; it's normal for where you are in life right now. Don't worry or panic--you have many, many years to develop and discern yourself before taking on the challenge of parenthood. However, one day God will put a desire in your heart, and then He'll put a baby in your belly. It will be a little girl, and you will name her after your grandmother. She will be the light of your life and bring you joy beyond measure. You have a lot of things to accomplish before you're ready to have this child, but know that being a mom is going to be way less scary and way more rewarding than you ever imagined. I don't even want to say much more than that, mostly because I know you won't believe me. And that's okay--for now.

Before you become a mother, you have a lot of growing up to do. Your 20s are going to be characterized by a lot of trial, error and evaluation. There's going to be a lot of self-exploration--and a lot of self-doubt. A LOT of self-doubt. Life isn't as clear cut as it seems to you now. It's not all black and white; there's a lot of gray out there. A LOT of gray. (And a lot of wonderful, vibrant color in life's experiences, making the world a beautiful place to be.) The next ten years are going to challenge you and reward you, knock you down and help you back up, bring you a lot of disappointment and a lot of joy. It's not going to be easy. In fact, it WILL be hard. Really hard. There are going to be many days where you wish that you could just go back to school, where the terms of "success" and "failure" are clearly defined. In the real world, no one has the same definition, and you'll struggle with that--especially in your career. Figuring out your life's calling not going to be a quick process. You'll go through a lot of jobs and bosses, hoping that they'll be the answer to your lifelong question ("What am I going to be?"), and I hate to tell you this, but no one and no job will ever answer that question for you. You see, eventually that question will go from "What am I going to be?" to "WHO am I going to be?" and all along the road to figuring out the "what," you'll begin to develop the "who." I wish I could go ahead and tell you now the exact answer to that question, "Who am I?," but unfortunately the only thing I can tell you is that you still won't fully know even at age 30. Perhaps this is the purpose of your 20s, to realize that the "what" is meaningless without the context of the "who," and that the "who" takes longer than a minuscule decade to be defined.

Don't get me wrong, you're also going to have SO much fun in your 20s. You're going to travel around the world, meet interesting and crazy people, discover passions and talents in yourself that you can't even comprehend yet. You're going to visit China and Africa and Eastern Europe and South America and Hawaii; see miracles and curious things and amazing sites; eat strange delicacies, run farther than you think possible, live in places you can barely imagine now. You'll spend days driving around the wild South African countryside, being inspired by people you hardly know. You'll spend evenings cozied in your big, comfy bed in suburbia with Ryan, content to imagine away the world outside. You'll spend nights out on the town, surrounded by city skylines and friends, laughing until your stomach aches. Your 20s will have a lot of high notes, and the thought of each one will bring a smile to your face and a lightness to your day.

I wish I could tell you what regrets I have so that you can avoid them, but, here, where I have the opportunity to warn you of all the pitfalls that lie before you, I'm at a loss. In writing down the decisions I wish I could change, I'm realizing that I don't want to change any of them. I don't have any regrets because life has turned out wonderfully thus far, and without those seemingly regrettable decisions, life might not be so wonderful at 30. There are going to be many times that you will have that feeling in the pit of your stomach, the desperation of wishing that you could change a decision you've made, but know that in the end, they all turn out for the best. It will not feel so hopeful in the mist of those storms, but do not lose heart--hope arises at the end of each dark time in your life. I know this to be true. And I would tell you to not worry so much, but I know that you will anyway, so instead I'll tell you this: Follow your intuition and heart; they are guided by the Holy Spirit and will not fail you.

Oh, 20 year old self. I wish at times that I could go back and be you again, but then I'm keenly aware of what I'd be giving up in return and decide that I am content where I am. In ten years you'll be me, working for yourself (finally), married to the man of your dreams, mother to the most amazing little girl God could've ever given you, hopeful for a wonderful new chapter in life. You'll have a lot of life experience, but still feel like a child; a lot of wisdom, but still not know what the future holds; a lot of contentment, but still desire more out of the coming years. You will mourn the loss of your youth but rejoice at the promise of life yet to be lived.

Enjoy the next ten years,
Talie at 30


P.S. I suppose there are a few specific pieces of advice I should give you... :)

Don't buy the red couch. You won't understand me now, but remember this: DO NOT BUY IT. You will regret the choice later. Just trust me...

Please resist the urge to get bangs (both times). Or go blond. These will be very bad decisions and take a LONG time to be fixed.

When see a dog and think to yourself, "That dog looks like his name should be 'Oscar,'" adopt him on the spot; he's going to be your buddy for life, and you'll be glad to have three more weeks to love on him than I did. Oh, and when your second dog comes along, it's a "she," not a "he," an "Olive" not an "Oliver." (You'll understand it when it happens.)

Take a few dollars (skip a couple datenight t-shirt purchases or something) and invest this new-fangled thing called "Facebook" and that computer company Ryan likes, "Apple." You'll thank me later.

Yes, buy that townhouse you fall in love with after college. HOWEVER, resist the urge to say to Ryan, "Oh, we'll just sell it after a year or two. You don't want to be 30 and living in a townhouse, do you?" because you will jinx yourself in a very bad way.

And, finally, remember that you're Talie Freaking Aquilio, but you won't always be. One day you'll be Talie Freaking Shove, which is way, way better.

Ryan Shove's Child

Just like her dad...

Tonight, as Ryan was driving home from the airport after three days away, Emma Vance was going to bed. He and I talked on the phone just after I set her down in her crib, and Ryan expressed that he was sad to miss seeing her by just a few minutes. I can understand his emotions; I've barely gone a full day without seeing her sweet face, and so after three days away, it would've been so nice for him to be able to hold her before bedtime. Unfortunately that's not how things panned out, and as I got off the phone with Ryan, I realized that E.V. had been unusually quiet. Typically she cries for at least a few minutes before dozing off, so I had a moment of panic...until I checked the monitor.

There she was, diving in to her pile of toys at the end of her crib, playing quietly before bedtime. She usually just chews on whatever stuffed animal I hand her when I set her down, but tonight for the first time she attacked those toys, pulling every last one out to throw around. This went on for about 30 minutes, and then, as silently as she'd been all along, she fell asleep mid-play. Literally. It was the most pleasant bedtime process we've had thus far, and it warmed my heart to see her playing so nicely by herself. When Ryan made it home, we both went in to check on her, and although he didn't get to hold her, I think this sight was enough to fill his heart until the morning.

When I look at these two pictures, I see Ryan Shove's child; this is exactly what I imagine him like as a kid--explorative and curious, eager not to miss even one minute of potential fun, happy to be alive, exhausted from bringing so much joy into the world. I am one lucky lady.

Belly Sleeping + Transitions

How in the world can this be comfortable for you, E.V.?

Sleep, glorious sleep.

Emma Vance has been in her nursery for several weeks now, and although I miss hearing her little peeps and rustlings in the middle of the night, we're happy that that crutch of a bassinet is gone. Her crib mattress is super firm (of course), and as I mentioned earlier, E.V. had a bit of trouble getting used to sleeping without being cozied up in her soft newborn nest (our little Princess and the Pea, who, ironically, it turns out literally doesn't like peas). The issue seemed to resolve itself rather naturally, and shortly thereafter she began rolling back-to-belly, and now she sleeps that way most of the time. Occasionally she'll flop onto her side, but that's usually just a temporary pose as she eventually turns completely over. The first few times she slept at night on her belly I barely slept--half the time she wants to bury her face into the mattress! How can that be comfortable??? It's certainly not safe, and so I spent about a week gently turning her face out to where her nose was free to breathe easily, only to be thwarted by a stubborn baby who would just turn her head back every time I left the room. Now I don't worry about her; when she's uncomfortable, she is a big girl and has proven to me that she can move herself. My suffocation fears are slowly relaxing, which is a welcome change.

Also, sometime in the past week or so Emma Vance began the transition to two daily two-hour naps, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. In December she had a few one-off naps that were unusually long, but it seems that here, around six and a half months old, she's finally adopting the pre-toddler napping schedule I've been looking forward to for so long. What Baby Wise calls the "45 Minute Intruder" became our "45 Minute Roommate"--instead of the usual few days or weeks of 45 minute naps, we had THREE MONTHS of them! Eventually they became the norm, and because she was healthy and happy and predictable, I embraced her natural schedule. However, it is soooo nice to be able to start projects while she's sleeping that I know will take me longer than 45 minutes. The way it feels to me right now, two hours might as well be two weeks! The first time she naturally slept for two hours, Ryan was home, and we were both hanging out, working on our computers. Around the 45 minute mark I completed my nap time project and began surfing around...and around...and around. I kept staring at the monitor, expecting her to pop up and babble "mama" at any moment, but she just kept snoozing away. Ryan and I were beside ourselves--confused but cautiously excited. It was the most wasted hour or so of my life because I couldn't believe what was happening. Over the past several days her nap lengths have been a little unpredictable, and although I've had to help soothe her through a few transitions, it's happening, people, it's happening! Give us a few weeks and I'll officially be ready to give our "45 Minute Roommate" his eviction notice. Wish us luck!

At one hour into her morning nap...yay!

(In case you were wondering, yes, she sleeps with TWO Cookie Monsters.)

Eating Peas + Encouraging Right Handedness

eating peas and encouraging right handedness

Emma Vance had her first taste of peas today, and, well, let's just say that she wasn't too impressed. :)

We've been doing the oatmeal thing for a couple weeks now, and it's going great. We were waiting for Ryan to get back into town before starting vegetables, and her reaction was so hilarious that it was worth the wait for him to be able to participate. Let's hope that she likes other veggies better than she liked peas or we may be in trouble...

I don't think I've mentioned it before, but ever since she was born, E.V.'s had a strong inclination toward using her left hand. We noticed it right away, but since she was a newborn, we simply took note of the habit and filed it away for future consideration. Well, now that she's older and grabbing objects, she still seems to have a bit of tendency toward her left hand, especially since we began spoon feeding her solid food. It's been a hot topic of conversation over here at the Shove household, and we resolved that although we don't care deeply about whether she's left or right handed, it would make life easier if she was a righty. (Yes, I still love and adore all of my lefty friends out there.) This brought up the question: Can you make your child left or right handed?

I'm not sure what the real scientific answer is, although I suspect it's a resounding "no." However, we figured that we'd at least try to give her a fighting chance to be a righty or at least ambidextrous, so we decided to leave her alone when playing but won't allow her to feed herself with her left hand. (Since she's going to be able to help feed herself in the next few months, we decided to skip the "don't grab the spoon" thing and just work toward being able to politely and skillfully hold it.) It started out rough, mostly because I'm right handed, meaning that grabbing the spoon from me with her left hand was easiest. It's taken a lot of practice, but now I feed her with my left hand while holding her left hand down on the high chair tray. It took about three or four days for eating with her left hand down to become habit, but I'm happy to report that she's now naturally feeding herself (term used loosely!) with her right hand. If she turns out to be a righty, one day she'll thank me and appreciate the hassle I went to in order to set her up for an easier life. And, hey, in the process it seems that I may be gaining some ambidexterity myself--bonus!

"Oh, yay! It's time to eat" (unsuspecting baby)

"What the...?"

"Mom, I think that oatmeal has gone bad."

"Dear, it's not oatmeal, it's peas. Try them again; I think you'll like them."

"Okay, maybe they're not that bad..."

"'Peas?' That's a hilarious name, Mom. What's on the menu next? 'Poops?'" (She thinks she's SO funny...)

"Hold down that left hand, little lady."

"Hooray for right handedness!"

"Can I PLEASE have my oatmeal now?"

Squirrel in the House

soot-y squirrel prints

So...yeah.

Remember this morning when I said the dogs had been glued to the fireplace? Well, since we're renting and Ryan's in a cast, I called the landlord to check it out. I don't think that he fully believed me, especially since there was no rustling noises when he arrived. Ryan and the landlord talked about what to do (go on the roof to look down the chimney or just open the flue) and because the landlord seemed skeptical that there was even a problem, they decided to go the flue route. Thankfully Ryan had the good sense to open the front and back doors in advance...

...because there was a squirrel in our chimney. (Don't doubt me, people! THAT is the lesson here.)

With a giant THUD and a yelp (from the landlord, crouched on the fireplace surround), a giant, brown squirrel came tumbling down, took one bounce off of the fireplace wood and leapt across the living room, bolting to sweet freedom out of the backdoor. The whole event lasted about 2.2 seconds, but the aftermath was much longer. The dogs were barking like crazy upstairs at the commotion; the landlord immediately jumped back and took several minutes to catch his breath; Ryan and I were wide-eyed and exclamatory; the baby was screaming, scared from all of the excitement. Quick like a flash of lightning, that poor squirrel was set free, leaving only a trail of soot-y paw prints to prove the whole thing even happened because it definitely felt like I was dreaming for a minute there.

Crisis averted: The landlord's on the roof installing an anti-critter grate right now, and thankfully E.V. calmed down once we explained to her that it was just one of Santa's elves left over from Christmas. :)

Desperate Measures

Just don't let this become a habit guys, okay? I can't hear you...OKAY??? Oh, whatever. Enjoy yourselves while you can.

When your baby has been playing in her crib happily since the moment you put her down for a nap, and it's now AN HOUR AND A HALF past her usual nap time, you will do anything--anything--in order to get her to go to sleep so as to not totally throw off your entire day...

When your husband got in at 3 a.m. last night from California, almost NINE HOURS after his original flight was supposed to land, you will do anything--anything--in order to let him sleep peacefully so as to ensure that his today is better than his yesterday...

...even pit the two of them against one another, ensuring that all three of you "win."

(Add a dog who's exhausted from going crazy this morning to see what creature is stuck in your chimney, and you all are "winners." Yep, true story.)

When Doppelgängers Meet

(meant to be friends)

Don't we all secretly wonder at least once in our lives if we have an identical twin somewhere across the sea? Well, Emma Vance won't have to ever wonder because (drumroll please...) we've found her!

I think it must be the mohawk, because ever since she was a newborn I've thought Emma Vance resembled a Kewpie doll. We bought her this one for Christmas, and when it arrived, it was way bigger than I imagined, reminding me even more of our own little Kewpie. Now E.V. has a friend to play with all of her days...twinsies!

"Hey, Mom, is that an Emma Vance doll?"

Twins share everything, including fingers to suck on apparently.

This is NOT a Drill!

Ewww! I did NOT sign up for this...

Okay, okay--we are going to be OKAY. Nobody panic. Don't throw up, self. Don't. Throw. Up. You can handle this; it's just snot. (Where IS that dang bulb thing when I need it?) Emma Vance...EMMA VANCE! Do NOT touch your nose right now. No, don't roll over either. Stay put, please. Please? Dangit. Ugh. Just breathe...

Happy Wednesday from the Shove household!

Bath Time is the Best Time

Splish, splash, E.V.'s taking a bath!

Bath time has been one of Emma Vance's favorite daily baby chores since she was a newborn. Now that she's sitting up and playing like a big girl, bath time has become a whole new game, full of toys to grab and water to splash. She likes to put her hands and face under the waterfall spout at the beginning of each bath, and at the end, when she sees me reaching for her towel, she always pleads to me with puppy dog eyes to stay a little longer...which often times I oblige.

Here's a little bit of how bath time went tonight:
WARNING: Brief baby nudity involved. Parental guidance suggested. :)

Quite a difference from the video we took of E.V.'s first bath six months ago, huh? Looks like we'll be signing this one up for swim lessons early in life...

"Do I have to get out now? Can't we play just a little bit longer, Mom?"

New Year's Resolutions: Ryan's a Cheater!

Cheater, cheater! Fried-food eater!

One of our favorite resolutions for 2013 has been to give up fried food (and maybe caffeine).

I love New Year's resolutions and actually have a pretty good track record over the past few years of keeping them, surprisingly.

In 2010, I vowed not to buy paper towels anymore, and besides maybe two self-purchased packs and a couple rolls randomly given to us by other people, we've been doing this little bit for the environment for over three years now. (If you've ever been to my house, then you know what a "grandma rag" is, that we own a million of them and that they easily substitute for paper towels.)

In 2011, we gave up non-natural cleaners, which was perhaps the easiest of my resolutions. I haven't bought anything "toxic" in two years (save for buying bleach--because sometimes you just NEED to kill a germ or two), although it might be considered cheating that we occasionally use a cleaning service which uses whatever products they bring with them. In fact, we even gave up store-bought laundry detergent for a while (soooo easy to make), but I fell short on that endeavor, especially when Dreft came into the picture last year. Now it's a once-in-a-while kinda' thing.

In 2012, I vowed to buy organic groceries (except for a few key items and when entertaining), and we're still Whole Foods fanatics a year later. In fact, I look back at all of the stuff I used to buy at the normal grocery store and consider "healthy" and laugh because now I'd consider it junk food. We're not perfect, but we're marching forward with mostly organic groceries in our home and proud of it.

In 2013, we have (as we do each year) lots of resolutions, but I usually pick one or two to really hone in on, and this year it's fried food (and maybe caffeine). Ryan's favorite food is "fried stuff with cheese," and since he travels a lot (and is naturally thin), he eats a lot of it. I enjoy skinny-style fries, tortilla chips (mmm) and mozzarella sticks myself, and deep down I know that I shouldn't. I do have to admit that it probably is an easier resolution for me than him, if for nothing else than the mere fact that traveling causes him to eat out way more than I do. I don't own a fryer nor do I intend to ever own one, and I couldn't even begin to think about pan frying anything at home. (Remember how I'm the "bad cook?" A large part of that is because I can't bring myself to do things like use oil or fatty ingredients for non-party foods.) Plus, I don't have a daily hankering for chicken fingers like that boy does, so...

Which brings me to the "maybe caffeine" portion of the resolution. Several years ago, Ryan randomly decided to drop his Arnold Palmer drink obsession and go caffeine free. I decided to join him. I lasted a few months, then slowly slipped back into my Coke habit (capital "C," of course) after thinking foolishly that I could "just have one or two." Drinking socially became drinking excessively-socially and then eventually drinking alone. :) Ryan, on the other hand, lasted years without sweet tea. So many years that I can't even count. (Three? Four? I really can't even remember.) I typically give up caffeine at least once a year, for Lent or because I'm pregnant or whatever, but I'm definitely off the wagon (on the wagon?) now. Or, rather, I was because I randomly stopped drinking caffeine a week ago, went through withdrawal and can't figure out if I want to commit to kicking the habit for good or not. Ryan has (uncharacteristically) been drinking caffeine with me over the past few months, and since my caffeine obsession is as bad as his fried foods obsession, he suggested it would even the playing field if we gave up both. I'm still contemplating what to do...

"Even the playing field? What 'playing field?'" you may be wondering. Well, because health-based resolutions are hard to stay committed to, this year we decided to make it interesting. I came up with a high-stakes game to keep us accountable. The cold, hard truth is that we will eat fried food again. To say that we will NEVER EVER eat another fry isn't realistic. It just isn't. On the other hand, I don't want occasionally indulging to turn into backsliding and a failed resolution. As a solution, I came up with the concept of "Cheat Jars."

We each have our own Cheat Jar, and each month I put our allowances, in ten dollar bills, in our respective jars. Each time someone cheats, they have to put $10 in the other person's jar, and then at the end of the month we disburse the money. We had to come up with some game rules, which are as follows:

1. You can only cheat as many times as there are 10s in your monthly allowance, even if you've "earned" money from the other person's cheating.
2. The cost is $10 per cheat MEAL, not per cheat item (e.g. chicken fingers and fries eaten in one sitting costs you $10, not $20). This was Ryan's demand in order to play along. :)
3. We're going on the honor system, so no cheating the Cheat Jars.
4. No amnesty. Bad day? Special occasion? Nothing else to eat? Sorry, chips and dip are still going to cost you $10.

I've been excited about this challenge since the few weeks leading up to the new year, and now, one week in, I'm feeling like this is an attainable resolution. In fact, I hadn't even stopped by the bank to get our January 10s out until today. It must've been intuition that I ran that errand this afternoon, though, because Ryan came home exhausted and craving wings (bad day + national championship game). I agreed to go to Wild Wing Cafe, reminding him of the cost of what he was about to do. It didn't matter, though, and I think he'd say it was worth it. I, on the other hand, had grilled chicken wings and celery. Mmmm. (Said no one ever. Just kidding--it was yummy.)

Let the records show that Ryan was the first to cheat in 2013, and now that we've broken ground, I can now officially say, "Game on!"

Wish us luck!

Old Man Shove, Castaway Style

Yeahduh I signed that cast!

It's been a crazy, crazy day for the Shoves, starting bright and early with Ryan's first post-op appointment this morning. Ryan, always the optimist, had hopes that the doctor would miraculously declare him healed, put him into a boot, and give him permission to bear weight on his foot starting this afternoon. THIS afternoon. Ten days post surgery. Oh, how I love the blissful positivity that Ryan can muster up in even the darkest of hours!

I suppose I should back up a bit to catch everyone up on the past ten days. Ryan had his surgery, which went well but revealed that Ryan has old man tendons (no exaggeration). The next two days consisted mostly of him resting. He had a nerve block from his calf to his toes that should've worn out in 12 to 24 hours, but in a surprisingly wonderful occurrence, it lasted about 36 hours. So, once the nausea and grogginess wore off, he and his numb foot were happy as larks to laze around, playing video games and talking guns with his brother. When he began to feel some tingling, he took a little pain medication, which worked well but made him a little loopy, and he only needed it for a day or two. For the past week or so he's been just taking ibuprofen occasionally when he's been on his "feet" all day (i.e. crutching around) to relieve any aches and pains.

He's been managing quite well, albeit a little frustrated that he can't be independent. We've set up a makeshift L-shaped sectional composed of our couch and an armless upholstered chair where he can elevate his leg while watching television, playing "Call of Duty," working on his computer and taking phone calls. His Command Central is conveniently located halfway between the guest bath and the kitchen, although somehow the distance to the bathroom seems more manageable to him than the equidistant length to the kitchen. (Hmmm. I MIGHT have been bamboozled into getting his food for him more often than necessary.) The stairs have been the biggest challenge for him, and so we've tried to minimize his ups and downs each day. I've begged him to simply sit down backwards and scoot himself up one step at a time because I get terrified he's going to fall each time he heads upstairs, but he's a "man," and men don't scoot apparently.

The biggest challenge for me has been balancing having to care for two babies. His intense traveling schedule means that I'm fully equipped and capable of caring for Emma Vance by myself without much hassle, but with the addition of another human being unable to fully care for themselves (especially one that can talk and thus one that can comment on the way things are done), I've been struggling a bit. Ryan hates not being able to help around the house, and it's odd to say, but it's almost worse to have him here and unable to pitch in than it is to do it all myself when he's gone. It's totally just a psychological thing, but it's taxing. I've tried to figure out ways that Ryan can help for both our benefits, and the best I've come up with is to put a wakeful baby in bed with him, surrounded by a Boppy, diapers, wipes, a bottle, a bib and lots and lots of toys. I can run about an hour's worth of errands before one of them has a total melt down and needs me. :)

Anyway, back to Ryan. On Thursday night, I was helping Ryan get ready for a quick night's trip to Athens (Go Dawgs!) for an early morning shoot on Friday. He was packed and ready to go, but complaining that his Ace bandage, which was holding his splint to his foot, was too loose. I rewrapped the bandage, all the while Ryan urging me to make it tighter and tighter. I was skeptical and told him so, but who am I that my husband should listen to me, right? Well, that night he had a bit of nerve pain that awoke him. He adjusted his bandage and it eventually went away...until Friday night. Uh-oh. Friday around 4 p.m. he started complaining that his heel was burning and that occasionally and randomly it felt like a hot poker was being jammed into the tip of his heel. I called the PA, who basically said to just deal with it, that pain meds would take 30 minutes to take effect and might not be worth it. As the evening progressed so did his pain, and by 7 p.m. he was literally yelling out from the nerve pain.  He took a pain pill, but even an hour later it didn't seem to help. Finally I called the on-call doctor, who recommended loosening the bandage. Voila! Turns out my intuition that a too-tight bandage would be a bad idea was correct, and it had been the culprit the whole time. At least it's over with!

So, about today...Ryan's appointment was disappointing in that his wildest dreams did NOT come true. In fact, a bit of the opposite happened. Instead of moving toward a boot and no crutches, he got a real cast and two more weeks on crutches. Not what he was hoping for, and because the word "cast" has NEVER been mentioned to us, it was both disappointing and surprising, which is often a bad combination. The cast is cool, though. He chose black, but I would've paid the nurse $100 to not give him an option and automatically make it hot pink. :) I've never had a cast (neither has he), so it's a new experience for the Shove household. He has to wear it for exactly 11 days before having it removed and reevaluating, so now we're counting down to January 18th. Patience, Ryan, patience.

The up side to being crutch-y for another few weeks? Handicap parking pass! (Yesssss!) Plus, there's the whole filling-of-the-unfulfilled-childhood-desire-to-have-all-your-classmates-sign-your-cast thing. It's never too late, folks. Remember that!

Olive is FIVE!

Olive Belle Shove turns five today!

Today is Olive's fifth birthday, and it seems that she knows it. All day she's been demanding extra attention, extra rubs, extra snuggles...and because today is HER day, she gets whatever she wants (including doggy ice cream to celebrate).

We adore both our dogs equally and uniquely. Olive is passionate and mature, a fierce protector of Emma Vance and gluttonous when it comes to being loved. She doesn't give her trust openly--it must be earned, but once it's earned, it's forever. I have adored every day of the past five years and feel like we have our own secret nonverbal language, one that no one else will ever understand. I find comfort in hearing her little puppy wheezes and snores in the middle of the night and look forward to many more years with her at our sides. Happy birthday to the best (female) dog a girl could ask for!

Small Resolutions

Emma Vance had her first solid food today!

With a new year comes new resolutions, and here in the Shove household we take that charge very seriously. Since this is Emma Vance's first chance to experience a new year, we decided to help her make her first resolutions ever, and although they may be tiny, to her they're a big deal. Here's what E.V. hopes to accomplish in 2013:

1. Eat solid food.
2. Crawl forward.
3. Walk like a big girl.
4. Learn some new words other than "mama" and "dada."
5. Throw a killer first birthday party.

Since she's a natural go-getter (ha!), she decided to tackle her first resolution on the very first day of the year, and I'm happy to report it was a major success. Before starting, Ryan and I debated bib v. no-bib (since we bought her a ton of feeding stuff for Christmas), and after the experience we had, I'm glad to say we went with "bib." She loved it so much she couldn't get enough of the oatmeal, even for her first feeding. The pediatrician's recommendation was a few tablespoons the first time eating anything solid, working up within a week or so to a quarter cup. Yeah, right! Little Miss gobbled up her oatmeal excitedly, plowing through a quarter cup easily. The other recommendation the doctor made was to try giving her solid food once a day until she got the hang of it, but since her first feeding was such a success, we jumped ahead to morning and evening feedings immediately. It's a lot messier of a process than I imagined (and today was the first time I've appreciated our in-kitchen washer/dryer), but we're working on it. :) Looks like dinnertime will now immediately be followed by bath time...

Now we're looking forward to tackling her other resolutions in 2013!

Following her parents' 2012 resolution to eat organic groceries!

She didn't waste one second!

She REALLY wanted to feed herself, but it was already too disastrously messy to indulge her!

All done and all covered in oatmeal...

...and excited for her next feeding!

New Year's Resolutions 2013

I have mixed emotions about the New Year.

On one hand, I must confess that I'm a total New Year's Eve Scrooge. I always have been, and I can explain why: It's a holiday that's all about hopeful build-ups and inevitable let-downs. You get all dressed up (love an excuse to do so), hang out with friends (fun), then wait until midnight (yawn, I'm old), countdown (and hope your DVR is "live," not behind by a few minutes), kiss your husband (for the fifth time that day), and then...it's over. O-V-E-R. In the blink of an eye. Go home, folks. Nothing magical to see here--just empty champagne bottles and confetti on the floor. It's such a sad thought to me.

In fact, my happiest New Year's Eves have been spent casually hanging out with dear friends in various living rooms around the city, and although this year I had it in my mind that we were not going to be bums and actually go out, Ryan's injury earned HIM the title of New Year's Eve Scrooge 2013. So that's what we did this year: We stayed home, elevated Ryan's leg and just enjoyed hanging out with E.V. and the dogs. It was actually quite cozy and wonderful, and as Ryan Seacrest counted us down in Times Square, I felt happy to be at home, cuddled up with my little family.

On the other hand, I love January 1st--the feeling of the world hitting the proverbial "restart" button, the hope that buzzes in the air and in conversations, the introspection and motivation it brings those who are desperate for a new beginning...ahhh. It's like a breath of fresh air to my soul!

Not surprisingly, I LOVE New Year's resolutions, and this year in particular I'm eager to start working on mine. Thankfully several years of really aiming to stick to my resolutions has given me a realistic outlook on January 1st: I see it as the starting line to my main resolutions AND the starting line to my "think about how this year will be different and make smaller resolutions" process. As I sit down to make my list of how 2013 will be both better and different than 2012, I feel hopeful. I'm jotting down things as simple as "do one load of laundry a day" alongside things as paramount as "pay off ALL debt." There's something encouraging about physically listing the most tangibly accomplishable goals in life right alongside the most terrifyingly daunting ones that brings me peace. It reminds me that I can accomplish anything I put my mind to and that God has a handle on everything in my life, big and small.

As of now I have a full page of goals for 2013, and Ryan's agreed to fill his page by the end of January as well. I think that this year I'm going to type up our lists to hang on the fridge because there's nothing like a constant reminder to keep you on track. As I sit here, reading and re-reading my page, my heart is racing. I'm eager to put myself and 2013 to the test, to see in exactly one year from now how much life has changed and how much I've accomplished. I'm thankful for this new beginning, for the chance to start fresh and be a better version of myself when next New Year's Eve rolls around. Maybe we won't even be such NYE Scrooges by that time... ;)