On Babies, Beards, and Other Things

It's Sunday night, my husband and housemates are upstairs watching Braveheart, and I'm wiping tears from my face as I fold all of Rory's three month clothes and put them in a box, where they'll stay until (if) another baby girl comes along. One outfit was especially hard to store; it's just a little onesie, but somehow it just is Aurora, and I'll always associate it with her babyhood:

Really, I can't believe how it wrenches my heart to put aside her little clothes and bring out her new size...who said she could grow up so fast? But at the same time, everyday is a new delight, and we're enjoying so much the little human she's becoming. Rory has learned to express herself vocally in ways other than crying; she now "yells" at us when upset and grunts and coos when pleased. She laughs when amused (most precious thing ever!) and "talks" to all her toys. Her personality is starting to shine, and she's an amiable, content, and observant little girl. Tonight will be Rory's first night in her own room (aka her first night not spent in our room, which is surprisingly difficult for me. I give it three hours before I bring her back). I'll post cute nursery (aka office) pictures soon.
I really don't want Rory to stay a baby forever, despite her cute cuddliness, and despite the fact that I cry when she outgrows her clothes, and despite the fact that I wish she would sleep in our room forever (well, for a little while longer anyway). I'm eager eager eager to watch her grow!

This morning Blake and I did a bad/good thing: we skipped church (oh my!) and had a date morning. Normally we have date nights, but there's no great chance for that soon. So, we packed up Babycakes, dropped her off at Nana and G-Pa's place, and went out for an awesome breakfast at Brandy's. Later in the afternoon we went for a hike on Mount Elden, where I got stung by a mean, mean bee! I was thoroughly upset, and I burst into tears and threw my cell phone and water bottle. A significant happening of date morning was the making of the yearly beard contract. Blake and I have very little conflict in our relationship, but there is one issue (regretfully overlooked in premarital counseling) that continues to cause us strife. Now, I am not entirely opposed to facial hair, except on women and handsome men. It makes sense for unfortunate looking men to grow beards, but on my husband, who has such a wonderful, fascinating face, it's truly a travesty. However, Blake disagrees heartily with my sentiments. He is of the belief that the bigger the beard, the better the man (or something like that). He's grow it as long and unruly as possible, and would keep it all year round, if he weren't espoused to me. So, since I feel that because Blake loves me he should be clean shaven, and he feels that because I love him I should embrace the beard, we settle on a compromise: Blake can have a beard (with stipulations) for roughly half the year. Since fall is here and the weather is (supposedly) becoming cool, it was time to draw up this season's contract (no, we don't literally write it down, but we do shake on it). Here are the terms: Blake is permitted to grow his beard starting Monday, October 1st, granted that he shaves everyday up until then. For every day that he does not shave during that period, the beard is delayed a day. The beard must be gone no later than my birthday, March 3rd (though it can be sooner). Finally, it must not exceed a certain length and must be kept trim and neat, with no stray hairs, as to my expectations. Yes, this may seem harsh, but I assure you it is for the good of our union. The following beard (two years ago) would be in breach of contract:

In other news, Blake and I had to make an exceedingly difficult decision last week; we decided to give our doggy Vladimir back to the Arizona Boston Terrier Rescue. When we got Vlad, we signed a contract with the rescue saying that if we ever had to get rid of him, we'd return him to them. We couldn't imagine giving him up, but when Babycakes was born, we anticipated it being an issue. I won't go into all the reasons, but we knew that this would be the best thing for us and him. While I grieved all last weekend (I definitely am one of those people who give human qualities to animals, and considered Vlad to have cognitive and emotive powers that he certainly lacks), I woke up the morning of his departure with a light heart and a real sense of peace. My father in law graciously offered to drive Vladimir to Phoenix to save Blake and I from the awful experience of actually doing the hand off, and when he related it to us, it sounds like it could not have gone better. We'll miss our goofy little buddy, but we know that he'll be put in a wonderful, childless new home. Happy trails, Bucko!

Get your own Boston at www.azbtrescue.org

Finally, tonight marks one week in our new home. We're still basically living out of boxes (funny how there's less of an urgency to unpack than to pack), but we're in! Pictures to come soon...