My Best Friend's Baby Shower

Last weekend, I threw the greatest party of my life.

My best friend is having a baby.  Lots of friends are having babies right now, but this one is definitely different.  Because it's my bff, my matron of honor, my sista, my other best friend's wife, it's Nettie.  So it was go big or don't even bother.  Do it right and don't include those weird, awkward baby shower items that everyone seems to think is tradition (wrapping string around a belly and eating a cake that has baby feet, I'm looking at you.). 

In fact, back in May, on her first mother's day, I delivered a box with a sneak peek of the shower and included a list of things that would not be at this shower. 

Alcohol.

Watermelons in the shape of a baby and or stroller. 

Embarrassing games, ie anything including a diaper.



Those things are gross. 

Baby showers don't have to be gross.



The theme was ABC's, made obvious with vintage alphabet letters and signs pointing to you your next destination. 

Vintage letters from PrettyLittleStudio.

Like R is for Read-- guests were instructed to bring an unwrapped children's book and bookplates were provided to stick in the inside cover.

Bookplates made on Word and printed on sticker paper. 

Signs made out of thin canvas, letters glued on with a glue stick. 


D is for Drinks--self explanatory and really unnecessary to point out since it was in the middle of the room.  But pretty.  That's the important part. 

On the drink menu, water with mint and lemon and lemonade with berries.  I added the berries at the last minute, crushed, spilled it on the burlap, had to take everything off while cursing the gods, flipped over the burlap, and proceeded. 

Straws from saralukecreative.

G is for Guess-- since this baby is still a mystery, guests were invited to pick pink or blue and write their name on a piece of paper.  During gift unwrapping, I had the mom to be answer Old Wives Tales to predict what the sex of the baby was. 

She's having a girl.  But, I already told her that in March.

( I threw pieces of paper on the ground for each old wives tale, for pizazz)


S is for Sweets--again, not necessary, but very pretty.

And C is for Create--my favorite part of the shower.  Part baby clothing decorating and part alphabet letter painting.  The poor father to be doesn't realize he'll have to attach hooks to hang these letters soon. 

We did play some games--a name game were guests came up with a boy and girl name for each letter of the alphabet.  Prizes were given to those with the most complete sets (each sex for a letter) and the most creative name (mom to be picked).

And the dad to be answered some previously chosen questions (when do babies start to walk?  How many diapers do you go through a day?) and she had to guess how he would answer.  For the record, babies do not walk at four months. 

The menu was casual.  Tomato salad with basil, Greek Salad, fruit salad, roast beef wrapped asparagus, prosciutto and fig jam sandwiches, smoked salmon and avocado on crackers,  and a few Filipino dishes from the dad's family. 

The color scheme was turquoise and coral, with some natural colors thrown in.  My mom has a Cricut machine which was a life saver.  We were able to make the signs and garland in no time. 

And even a mobile or two.

My favorite detail was the party favor.  Every good party needs a favor.  Seriously, when did we out grow that?  This was the last detail that I came up with.  Every other favor I came across seemed silly.  Then Pinterest showed me the candle. 

And that was it.  What a better gift to give your guests?  Nettie will receive a LED candle for the hospital room, so she is reminded of all the flames that flicker for her across the state. 

We put the candles in the boxes that I was suppose to use for my wedding favors.  They've been sitting in my old room at my parents house because the thought of folding one more thing two days before my wedding would throw me into a diabolical state. 

It was a beautiful day.  I can't believe my best friends are going to become parents. 

I can't wait to hold that little joy in a few weeks. 

But mostly, I was honored to give this day to someone who has done so much for me in my lifetime.  

She's pretty amazing. 

She's going to be a great mom. 

I can't wait to see. 













Post it

I looked up from work on Friday, closed my eyes, and breathed in my favorite song playing on my phone.  Then I stopped, grabbed a few post it notes and wrote something completely beautiful about balance, life, balance, life, stuffed it in my pocket and told my boss I was punching out for the day. 

It was meant to be shared and is sitting on the dresser now. But more than that, for once in a month I wrote something and that felt really good. It felt right, it felt important, and it felt true. Reading the yellow sticky notes now may not even make sense, as that moment is gone, but that doesn't matter. I wrote.  

That Time We Went to Prom

This is going to sound a little bit funny, but we went to prom together a couple weekends ago. 


(And it was amazing)

K's coworker was volunteering at her son's prom and so he said we'd love to go.  That we'd never been to prom together.  And before you gush over that statement, know that he agreed to help because he loves her and wouldn't miss an opportunity to watch teenagers awkwardly dance in tuxes too big and uncomfortable shoes. 

So, we were officially chaperons.  No orientation, no rules to follow, just us and our own judgment. 


We started off the night with a cocktail. 

And were the first to get our picture taken.  Him behind me while I grabbed onto his tie and crossed it over my shoulder.  Classic prom picture.  Its the first picture to come up on the photographers Facebook album.  Those poor children.

Teens slowly trickled in.  No doubt wanting to be fashionably late.  K and I complained about a dance that starts at 9. 

The DJ denied us a look at the "no play" list.  I remembered fondly the days when Kube 93 played actual legit music.  We were shocked at some of the songs played. Too risqué when we were kids. 

It took awhile for the dance floor to fill.  I looked around and watched seventeen year olds play with their phones and talk non-stop to their friends.  They had no idea that they were having their prom in a Footloose type of setting.  The original one.  I'm sure the DJ would banned us from the facility if we had requested that song. 

Finally, it started to loosen up.  Couples danced, groups formed, and we realized that there was no way we would ever be able to stop any dirty dancing.  Or what it even looked like nowadays. 


So we danced.  We danced like no one was watching, because we were surrounded by teenagers only concerned with how they looked.  I wanted to grab and shake them, yelling, "Don't you know how great this is?  Don't you know that your only future dancing chances will be at bad weddings, stuffy clubs, and maybe, just maybe when you get to chaperon a school dance?"

They wouldn't get it though.  Much is wasted on the youth--like ironically posed pictures, twinkle lights in barns, and a date who knows how to slow dance without both hands around your waste. 

And after three Nicki Minaj songs and the Harlem Shake played in its ENTIRETY, I was happy to get in our car, flip off my flats, and head on home.  It was great to be on the outside looking in.  It was fulfilling to look at a glimpse of what we all had ten years ago, except with no sequin dresses and far more up dos, and realize how time changes you.  You go from a teenager at the peak of fitness and youth, embarrassed by your moves and horrified not to have a dance partner, to a women with years of life on her shoulders (and hips), happy to have a few moments to dance by yourself in the bathroom.  Maybe they don't appreciate prom for what it is, but I sure did.


That's probably why he signed me up afterall. 

Stride

Its been really good lately.


Transferring closer to home, opening an office downtown, we now find ourselves with more time and opportunity to explore, relax, just be. 

The weekends are spent next to an open fire, mesmerized by burning wood and skipping flames.  I drank out of my very own wine glasses next to the fire.  We lounge on our old leather chair and hang pictures from our last place.  While we work hard during the day, it doesn't seem like much once home and winding down. 

Our community is starting to envelope us.  No longer feeling like outsiders, we have our own bar, own restaurant, own back roads, and own places to identify ourselves with.  The people wave back and our Saturdays are starting to fill. 

With everything done, sometimes it feels like "what now?"

What next?

This.  This is all there is to do now.  To sit outside in the warm sun, recounting the week, saying hello to the neighbor that walks by, and savoring each sweet minute. 

Chihuly

The Saturday before my birthday, K and I spent the afternoon in the city: we visited the glass museum, sat on a park bench watching tourists, drank hard cider in the corner of a favorite bar, then grabbed dinner with good friends.  It was a perfect day.

I still dream of the swirly glass. This was of course not my first Chihuly rodeo--I fondly remember the time my parents took us to the glass museum in Tacoma and we watched them create giant displays with the flick of their wrist. I took a class my freshman year of college in the building that had the classic chandelier in its lobby.  The first time K visited Seattle, we sat a table away from Chihuly himself one late afternoon while eating pasta.  Just us and him.  I didn't approach, it was enough.

The museum twists and turns like the strong arms who form the glass.  Some rooms dark except for the back lighting shining through.  Others bright and airy.  It spills out into the garden, the Space Needle proud and tall behind.  Everywhere you look, patrons are snapping pictures, hoping to capture the experience with their lens.  I tried.  It doesn't compare.  Even the coffee book we bought afterwards isn't just right.  You'll have to see it with your own, talented eyes.

All throughout, boards tell the story of what inspired every piece.  You are reminded of the past shows--San Francisco, Venice, Japan, Singapore, and stop and think about how lucky you are to experience it right here.   Not to mention he is from here.

K mentions to me that this is something he would have never seen if he hadn't met me.  I tell him you are very welcome.

Happy glass hunting.

28th

Last night, we topped off a pretty remarkable weekend with a beach fire.  The first beach fire of the season, the first since we moved in.  I knew that he was tired and didn't want to go anywhere at dusk on a Sunday night.  But, he didn't hesitate to say yes and within twenty minutes we were sitting on the rocky beach, drinking cheap beer, and listening to the last of the birds turn in for the night.  I ended the year the same way I started it: smoke in my hair, happy, and full of life.


I woke up this morning wanting to do two things: write and be outside all day.  It is Earth Day, you know, and boy the Earth is out in its birthday suit today.

A year makes all the difference.  Last's birthday was special, filled to the brim with friends and family, adventures, and homemade cake.  A Monday birthday promises other things and today I find myself in a big empty house, the company this year the dog.  And that's okay because it gives me time to slow down, reflect, dig in the dirt, and sit in the sun.



I am very blessed and also very grateful.  In my 27th year, I became a better wife, nurse, daughter, and friend.  I made mistakes and had days not worth repeating, but overall had a quality year.  This year will most likely be the same, as most days are the same for all of us.  But, I'm confident that next April 22nd, I'll be typing away, satisfied with the progress I've made, and better by the new things I've discovered in the year.




(Last year's list)

1. Dogs who make a full recovery.

2.  A day when the windows are open until it gets dark.

3.  Sitting at the corner bar at Seatown, drinking hard apple ciders and sharing shrimp cocktail with my husband.

4.  Legs still strong to carry me up mountains.

5.  Glittery water outside my bedroom window.

6.  Friends who are making babies and all of the possibilities that baby will bring.

7.  Herbs in windowsills.

8.  Sunday brunch at Mo's.

9.  Kayak rental gift cards.

10.  Parents who support me, love me, and hide Easter eggs around the yard for the dogs.

11.  Instagram.  It made the list last year.  Pictures are worth more than characters.

12.  Seagulls guarding bridges.

13.  That its just the two of us right now.

14.  Flowers from Central Market.

15. Sports documentaries.

16.  Neighbors who bring in our trash can.

17.  How much he has accomplished in a year, away from everything he knew.

18.   The side of Washington that he has shown me.

19.  Lilac bushes outside bathroom windows.

20.  This. And how I'm not perfect at it and the computer doesn't always work, but the chance to write and share never goes away.

21.  The trees, the water, the dirt--how each smell flashes my life before my eyes.

22.  Our new pace.  Everything is far now, so we have to plan and prioritize.

23.  The flowers that keep popping up outside.  We don't know what's coming next.

24.  5:00pm.  I'm home from work, the sun is strong, and he is on his way.

25.  Birthday dinners at Alderbrook.

26.  Overcast Seattle days.

27.  A brother who is babysitting the rambunctious yellow dog so I can type and hike.

28. And beach fires.

If you need me, I'll be outside.

I Heart Macklemore

You're probably yay or nay on this subject, but I absolutely love the guy.  But then again, I feel like its a legitimate love.  I was cruising to work one morning, listening to 107.7 (I missed that station almost as much as I missed the water), and Thrift Shop came on, and then they said that he was from here and that was it.


By golly gee, it's all about the videos though.  The love of the city shines throughout each one.  How can you not love it, not even a little bit, if you're from here?  It's about time someone was proud.

Thrift Shop aside (oh please, it's still good) I was hooked as soon as I saw the following video.  The fifth grader in me, who use to spend hours memorizing the 1995 roster, who wrote in when they were going to GASP trade Joey Cora, who had a crush on A Rod before he became an asshole and dreamt of double dates with him, Edgar Martinez and his wife, well she loves this song very very much.

Your city's got you.