Monthly Archives: December 2009

hot new slippers are warmtastic

hand sewn quilt by ma deb for ma joyce

the ma's

get excited and grind things


mebane bffs

purty ma

ain't no partay like a mebane partay

oh hi


11 weeks

11 weeks

We’re fairly sure at this point most everyone has heard the news…there’s a little Elder growing in Sarah’s belly! As of Christmas day we are 11 weeks along and Sarah already has a happy little bump to show off. Baby Elder is due in mid July, a fabulous month already full of important birthdays including Grandma Joyce, Uncle John, Aunt Martha, several of our Mebane pals, Will Ferrell and the Dalai Lama. This kid is destined for greatness! July also means that Sarah won’t have to be huge and waddly in the hottest time of the year, and little Elder’s birthday parties will sport all sorts of summery stunts like slip ‘n slide!

Yes we’re finally pregnant. Not that we tried for a super long time (it took all of six weeks to get this Fertile Myrtle knocked up), no-no, the word finally plays more to the fact that some folks in our immediate families have likely been hoping for an NC Elder youngin’ since we said I do and that’s fine by us because that means this little Elder will get oodles of love and attention and if he/she is anything like Sarah he/she won’t mind one bit. (PS As we’re sure many of you are wondering, we do plan to find out the sex, mostly because writing he/she is annoying.)

The night of November 6th Sarah had a vivid dream in which she recieved a positive result from a pregnancy test, so when she awoke the next morning she jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. That sucker beamed a baby blue plus sign within seconds and it was all she could do not to squeal. Time to tell Pete, but first a quick hangover check for Friday night involved more than one drink with the boys. Feeling ok? Yes? WOOOO! Jumped into the bed and held up the little stick. Once he focused his eyes and grasped the significance it was all smiles and hugs. Later that evening was when Pete’s grandfather passed, so needless to say it was an emotional weekend.

Since then things have progressed swimmingly. There’s been not a bit of morning sickness, only a new level of fatigue that Sarah has never before experienced and an early emotional breakdown that involved a sweet potato’s collision with the wall and no less than 30 minutes of sobbing, peeler in hand. We’ve had two appointments including one little ultrasound during which we saw the little bean and his/her beating heart! What a crazy thing to have a life inside you. It pulls on so many feelings and emotions, not all of which are glowing and joyous; we’d be lying through our teeth if we said there was never a moment of holy shit what are we doing? But those thoughts are rare and more than outnumbered by the giddy rush of just how amazingly awesome this adventure is and will be.

This past Sunday we decorated our tree. And our dogs.

After our week long escapade to the sunny south for Thanksgiving vacation, we’re really looking forward to Christmas at home, and the wet wintry weather was a perfect excuse to stay indoors and get cozy with the lovely NC fraser fir that Sarah’s ma brought us from the mountains. Our standard tree decorating package consists of lights and ornaments. The lights have in the past been your typical tiny white twinklers, but this year we took a leap in the other direction and threw on a couple strands of multi-colored big bopper bulbs. It’s totally retro and totally awesome. The ornament collection is made up of yearly gifts from Sarah’s Nana, a few annual purchases from our early Christmases and some random hand-me-downs from our families. Theme or color palette? Heck no. We don’t play that game. And I’m pretty sure we’ll never join the fake tree club. Unless of course they make a documentary about how NC fraser firs are the downfall of society, the single greatest cause of global warming or a contributor to the obesity epidemic. We could be swayed.

About the dogs. Apparently Graycie and Jake were none to happy with their holiday habits which they chose to express in a creative and surprising outburst while we were out running errands and seeing a movie. Pause for background information…

Weimaraners are notorious sufferers of separation anxiety which they generally declare with destruction that ranges from scratching at doors to chewing through wood furniture. Knowing this lead us to crate train our babies for the first 7 years of their lives. When we left the house, they went to their beds. Once and only once in the early years did we make the mistake of leaving them out (and it truly was a mistake as we each thought the other had put them up) and we returned to a few chewed shirts and a pen that been eaten to the point of explosion all over our duvet cover. But as they got older and calmer we experimented with brief moments of cratelessness, and we soon had packed the crates away as they were very well behaved even for several hours. That is, until Sunday…

Upon returning home Sarah immediately noticed a strong odor of maple syrup and thought not much of it as we did have pancakes for breakfast. We came through the hall door and the first sign of trouble was a chewed up purple plastic bowl. But where did said bowl come from? Those bowls are kept up high in a cabinet. Did they somehow get into the dishwasher? Step by step, as we entered the dining room the disaster unfolded before our eyes and within seconds the puzzle was solved. Our precious little pups had taken it upon themselves to drag from our pantry basket a cacauphony of treats including two packets of quaker oatmeal, three mini cliff bars and 18, we shit you not, fruit and nut granola bars. Wrappers were strewn across the floor, tiny pieces of purple plastic adorned the rug and flakes of oatmeal were found as far as the bedroom. In the moment it was incredibly aggravating, and after scolding the pups we spent the next hour completely ignoring them which Graycie was acutely aware of and so proceeded to follow Sarah’s every step looking up at her and wagging her tail like mommy pleeeeeease love me! But in hindsight (and after discovering that a certain someone may have grabbed a granola bar and may not have pushed the pantry basket all the way back and so maybe, just maybe it was a little too easy for the dogs to treat themselves) we can laugh about it. The dogs have since thrown up a bit and had some interesting movements, but neither are super sick, the granola bars have been replaced, and we’ll consider not forcing the pups into ridiculous costumes for our entertainment anytime soon.

Only 9 days ’till Christmas!

Bleeding Orange and Blue

It’s hard to believe that just one short week ago we were back in Gainesville among thousands of our fellow Gators smiling, laughing, celebrating the ass-kicking we were delivering to FSU and looking ahead to the possibility of a third national title in 4 years. Now here we are, the Sunday after a grueling defeat during which we watched what was surely a pack of junior varsity high school stand-in’s because the fine skill our boys had brought to the field every Saturday in the regular season was a fading memory against Alabama yesterday.

Yes that’s right, last night was the uber important SEC championship game and the gators lost. No, not just lost, we crumbled and stumbled and fell apart as our ass was handed to us in every aspect of the game by the same Alabama Crimson Tide that barely beat the 7-5 Tennesse Vols and struggled just last week against the 7-5 Auburn Tigers. Gators across the nation were stunned and our many, many haters (because when you’re generally awesome and amazing for a long time you’re bound to be despised by every fan of every crappy team in the NCAA) united in a force of interweb mocking, most notably on Facebook where they proceeded to post dig after dig at Tebow for crying on the field and let loose an all out blitz of comments tearing us apart. Ahhhh the joys of college football fandom. Pete of course could not stand idly by as his “friends” partook in this assailment and has spent much of the morning in a battle of wit and smack talk. Exhibit A (please note that this was as of, oh about 10 minutes ago, and has since gone on):

Needless to say, it is damn hard to be a Gator fan, but the rush and excitement of the good times are more than worth the disappointment and heartbreak of the bad. We had a fantastic season, we’ll go to a bowl game, and next year we’ll cheer and cringe and smile and shudder as we watch Brantley and the many other young players struggle to find their way and grow into another solid, dominating UF team. Because weeeee are a part of the Gator Nation. Gators of the world unite!