Everyone has a Hillbilly Bone

Last night my husband purchased his first pair of cowboy boots.  This is Christian we're talking about here.  The guy who in college wore his "uniform" of jeans and a blue oxford shirt, kept his  hair short, and knew more operas than I did as a music major.  He was so excited about the boots, which we bought at a consignment store in Bay View called Luv 'n Vintage, that he tossed his tennis shoes in a bag and wore the boots out of the store.  I don't think I've done that since I was 8 years old.  I have to admit, he looks pretty awesome in them, and they were such a good buy at $20, especially since they are all worn-in and vintage looking.

This is the second time this week that I wondered if my husband was turning into a country boy.  He bought another country song on iTunes - this one is called "Hillbilly bone" and for the man who only shops at Brooks Brothers, this song hit the nail on the head with him.  I quite like the new hobby.  If only I wasn't pregnant, maybe we'd get out and country swing one of these nights.  Hooray for going hillbilly!

AHH! A GIRL.

It's true.  We are having a baby girl in May.  I knew it the minute I saw the lack of boy genitals on the ultrasound, but I wanted to make sure even then not to get my hopes up.  I let the technician tell us and then asked him to double check, just to be certain.

The real truth is, I knew long before that.  People always ask if you have a "feeling" that it will be a girl/boy, but I haven't ever believed you could really tell just by instinct or morning sickness.  Okay, so I was a lot sicker this time, but what really allowed me to believe it was a girl was how I felt about the name and the frequent thoughts of Georgia.

I would be doing dishes and bam, I'm crying about Georgia.  It happened often, the closer I got to the ultrasound, I just didn't want to admit it, in case we had another boy.  When I asked my mom about using her name, I was surprised at how happy she was about it, just another confirmation to me.  And then there was the morning of the ultrasound.  I was listening to the TAB choir sing Rutter's "What sweeter music" and I felt so close to Georgia, again I knew it would be a girl.  When we found out later that day I told Christian I wasn't surprised, but I would have been shocked if we were having a boy.  I guess there is something to that instinct people ask about.

So, with great joy and satisfaction I am slowly embracing the world of baby girls and tights and bows and (fingers crossed), calmness.  After sitting with the Marriotts at church and holding Audrey on his lap, Christian came home and said, "If we could have a girl like Audrey, I'd be so happy!  She sat still the entire meeting!!!"  It is like getting into a hot tub when you swap wiggly Charles for docile Audrey - my whole body relaxes into my chair.  So if that is the way things roll with a girl, I am so ready.

Thank you, Julia Child

A few weeks ago Christian and I went to see Julie and Julia. We enjoyed it, or at least we enjoyed the Julia Child part of the story (A+ to Meryl Streep, C+ to Amy Adams). Anyway, a wonderful thing has happened because of that movie: Christian has found the buried desire to cook again, and I mean cook without me in the kitchen. He even does the shopping for all the ingredients and makes a noticeable dent in our grocery budget (who would have thought saffron would cost $18 for a tiny envelope of the stuff?). This lovely occurrence happens only on Sunday evenings, but I absolutely LOVE it. I am in heaven - delectable smells come from the stove as I nap, and viola! dinner is served without me lifting a finger. I have to say, I'm glad Julia Child wasn't familiar with a crock pot at the time because it seems to taste better doing it all in the oven. He is, however only on his third Sunday and hasn't quite grasped the idea that a meal is more than just a main dish.

That said, I'll be the last to complain. Who can pass up melt-in-your-mouth porterhouse steaks seared in butter with Madeira sauce drizzled over the top? That one is called "biftek sautee." Or how about pot roast cut and simmered with rice, tomatoes, saffron, onions, bacon, and a slew of other tiny but wonderful ingredients. The meat was tender and perfect. I can't believe I am actually saying this about Christian's cooking, but we all sat there smacking our lips and oohing over the flavors of "boeuf something-or-other." (boeuf a la catalane) He has come a long way from chocolate chip cookies and scrambled eggs.

Christian is actually embarrassed that this new marriage with cooking is because of that so-so movie, but I could care less where it came from, I just don't want it to stop! Here's to inspiration and cooking with butter! Thank you from the bottom of my heart, Julia Child.

Lake Time

On a little canoe outing we found a sandbar that was perfect for the kids, so we loaded up the boat with tubes, toys, and of course lounge chairs, and headed off for the afternoon. All we needed was a cooler of beer...root beer.
Across the lake was a tiny restaurant that served amazing, piping hot, fries. We didn't realize we were ordering such large amounts, so we decided to make it count for dinner. (Two food groups: fries and ketchup).

Daddy and Win getting set for tubing.

There is no wake, but Winfield insisted on going extremely slow. This was about their top speed and Win sat there with his chin in his hands like he was watching a movie. After Win got off Christian decided to take a turn alone - let's just call it the ride of his life. When our friend, Jake Morton got that boat up to screaming speed I yelled, "Don't hurt him! I need him in one piece!" It was kind of entertaining to watch Christian fly into the air, legs slapping, with a big grin on his face. Glad it wasn't me.

Paddy and Gammy

We were all so excited to have Christian's parents visit us in Milwaukee. They arrived with a whole slew of Star Wars toys, plus a few guns, which I now call the "Paddy Special." The boys were in heaven. We went sailing, out to eat, read books, and got lots of love and attention. Janet showed me the proper way to fry goat cheese while Christian vented and laughed about work with Mark. It was a wonderful time and Winfield said to me after they left, "I love Gammy, and she loves me!" (Isn't this a great picture? Just wish Charles had clothes on...)

Reading the boys one of his older stories about a crew of sailing dogs.

"Dah" = Dog

We all took our weekly walk to Klode park and down to the lake to throw rocks in the water. Paddy returned to Atlanta laden with fist-sized rocks. The boys brought rock after rock and filled Paddy's make-shift bag/sweatshirt tied in knots. He was .3 pounds shy of the 50 pound baggage limit at the airport.

Family, aka: Babysitting Crew, comes to Milwaukee

I looked through some old pictures to find these first two pictures of Christian and his siblings because it doesn't happen often that the three are together. This first one was taken in Charleston, SC before we had Jack (2002, I believe) when we were first married. You can even see Creagan as a young little doggy.

The three siblings four years later in Newport, RI when they came for Christian's graduation.

And here we are three years later in Milwaukee. What a good-looking trio.

Aunt Genny.

Chapman brought his girlfriend, Jessica to visit and experience a few "firsts" including first bratwurst, first mushrooms, first airplane flight, first ice cream truck purchase, and first time to meet all the Mitchell boys. They stepped in as the parents while here and I had my own first: first time to have a live-in nanny. Jack cried when he found out Chapman was leaving and I feel like crying now that I'm without my nannies.

The whole gang (minus Gammy who was tending to a now aged Creagan in Atlanta).

Family Time

I love this expression that Dad uses sometimes. It always makes me smile and I was glad to catch it on camera. I see Win making the same face sometimes.

Beautiful Grandma. Doesn't she age well? (I only wish that Cannon gene of going gray early had passed me by. Alas! I got the gummy smile, too).

Grandma reading Noah's Ark by Peter Spier (we love this one) to Charles.

Nana with the Milwaukee grandkids.