Food Truck Rodeo

The Sunday after the Blessing of the Animals, St. Francis had a parish picnic after mass.  They hired about 4 or 5 food trucks to come to the parking lot of the community center.  It was my first food truck rodeo and I was pretty excited.  We got in line right after church and waited and waited and waited.

Hmmm, I googled "waiting in long line forever" and this popped up.  Unrelated, but I like it so I will share it will ya'll.  

Anyways, at the end of the long line there was this:

It's a seafood sandwich with sriracha slaw and it was really good.  Plus also, I ate these:

The fries in my hand, not the people.  My friend, Jason, actually took a picture of me holding just the fries, and my awesome tat was in the photo!  And now it's on the St. Francis facebook page!  And hardly anyone has noticed or seen it or commented, but in my head everyone is all like "there goes the girl with the awesome tattoo" and I'm all:

But that actual scenario hasn't taken place in real life.  Give it time.

Anyways, after standing in line for the majority of the afternoon, Max was getting cranky so we made a pit stop by some dirty, filthy water because nothing remedies crankiness like a good ole frolic with some germs:

For Team Frowow, this year's Francis Fest was mostly a learning experience which armed us with a plan of attack for 2014.  Here it is:

1.  Attend 9:30 mass

2.  Go home and force naps

3.  Arrive back at church at 12:20 (10 minutes before mass ends) to get in line for the food trucks

BOOM! 

Mom of Two

NO!
Don't get excited.  I'm watching my friend's baby for the week.  And the next and then the next.
Items of note:
1.  I'm not dead
2.  Max is asleep
3.  Baby S is almost asleep
4.  Changing baby girl diapers is far more complicated than boy diapers
5.   Wait...scratch numbers 2 and 3. They are both asleep at the same time.  I'm awesome.
6.  Homemade chicken corn chowder is FINISHED.  So dinner is already ready.
7. I did a craft with Max where you stamp with the bottom of celery stalk so it looks like roses.
8.  Yes, I want a medal.
9.  Did I mention Sean and Catherine are getting married on Max's second birthday?  Yay!

Blessing of the Animals

Last week, Team Frowow loaded up our baby and his stuffed bunny and headed to church bright and early for the Blessing of the Animals.  Andres was excited because Bishop Burbridge would be in attendance and the man likes the Bishop like I like a pumpkin spice latte. That could be a gross exaggeration, but check out this picture:

See what is going on there?  Andres pretended to be photographing Max.  Who is really in the center of the frame?  Bishop Burbridge!  

 I was excited because I was sure that the blessing of the animals would be like confirmation for animals.  Wrong!  No smelly good chrism was used--just water.  Sadz.

 The blessing took place on the labyrinth outside of the community center.  When I heard our church had a labyrinth, my first thought was this:

But no.  Our church doesn't have a corn maze.  Instead, labyrinth is code for "multi-colored bricks in a maze-y pattern on the ground."  You can't really see it but, it's like this:

See the red bricks in with the brown?  Yeah.  Corn Maze>Bricks.  
Anyways, we stood around talking with some friends until the blessing began. They sang a few songs and then the bishop and priests went around flicking the animals with water, using same the broom flicky things that are used during service.

I really wanted to get a picture of our family with Bishop Burbridge because of Andres's "the bishop is the man" weirdness, but somebody got shy so we didn't.  We opted for a few family shots instead:

Squinty-eyed Heather.

 Squintier-eyed Heather.

Squintiest-eyed Heather.

All in all, it was a wonderful experience for Max and a fun way to spend the morning.  Corn maze or no corn maze, we'll return next year.

A hodgepodge

I haven't been in a bloggy mood lately.  Not because we haven't done anything to document, but because Andres hasn't uploaded pics from his phone onto our computer so...no pictures an (even more) boring blog makes.

Today I had to get routine blood work done and my vein failed.  It would not flow.  The blood did not cometh.  So, the kind nurse had to tap, poke, and rub and practically had to give me mouth to mouth.  I've never had a problem with finding a vein before, so the unexpected turn of events nearly did me in.  They threw an apple juice at both me and Max, but even still, my vein didn't "pop."  Max had speech, so I told her I'd be back later.  After speech I drove to here to hydrate on a pumpkin spice latte.

Spoiler alert:  the white girl in yoga pants is me!

The second time was successful, but not without OW! and lots of blood on the gauze afterwards.  She had to do my left arm, which is my bad arm.  It still hurts, ya'll.  And she said, "make sure you tell people you have very little veins and they turn."  What?!?  Did I really need to know that?!?  I guess so, maybe.

Anyways, this week should be pretty busy.  What with grocery shopping on Wednesday and all.

To close, here is a picture of Team Frowow with friends at Francis Fest.  Note the plate of fries. The plate and my awesome tatt made the St. Francis facebook page.  So now I'm famous.

7 qt

Linking up with Jen for Quick Takes.

This week I'm going to do pregnancy memories--no, this is not an announcement or anything, just reflecting on pregnancy.

1:  Buried Crack in the Front Yard
So, at around 36ish weeks, I'm "sitting," or as some would say, "dozing" on the sofa when I awoke to see a homeless looking man sifting through the dirt around our bushes with a stick. Not just any stick: a walking stick.  At first I thought, "hmmm, maybe he's maintenance" but then he vanished as quickly as he came.  Once I was sure he was off our street, I opened the front door to find the mulch by our bushes was all stirred up.  My first thought should have been, "Ahhh, scary, he might have been looking for a key and was going to rob us, call the cops now!" BUT at the time I thought--"OMG, someone just buried their crack in our front yard!  I can't call the cops because then they will think it was MY CRACK!"  Seriously, this theory sounded solid at the time and not even a rebuttal from Andres could sway my assessment of the situation.  And it wasn't until a ridiculous amount of time had passed (like...think over a year) that I realized how absurd my crack theory sounded.  Whatevs.

2:  Bob Stroller Hopes
So, at about 27 weeks I purchased the Bob.

Best purchase ever.  Worth all the dollars.  I believe it was shortly after this photo was taken that I announced my plan to run a half marathon with Max and Bob when the former was about 4 months.  I'm an idiot.  I am not even going to go into all the details of running with huge nursing boobs. Instead, allow me to share my first words upon returning from my inaugural post-partum run:  I need a bra for my stomach.  
So you can make your own inference about the half marathon.

3:  Church ladies go like woah
Starting around November, I became famous. I entered my third trimester but looked about 52 weeks pregnant.  I.WAS.HUGE.  Just imagine the hugest pregnant woman you've ever seen, make her bigger, and you get me.  I'm not just saying this. I have verbal affirmation from several sources that I was the hugest pregnant woman ever.  Including a pharmaceutical rep I met in the elevator at my ob/gyn who looked at me and said "oh my gosh." He couldn't even control it.  He apologized profusely, but I was like, "I know.  I'm with you, man." Anyways, I was very famous at church.  My friend Jen also got famous for being friends with the enormous pregnant lady.  Four days before my due date, I served communion and a lady tried to hold my hand to help me up the stairs to the altar.  And then, she offered to help me back down.  Plus also, other people started to say, "I hope I don't see you here next week" when it was mid-November.  People, Max wasn't due until the end of January.  So yeah.  

4: The Loss of Dignity 
Here I am before going to the hospital for my c-section:

I lost all dignity in the hospital.  Please know I don't mean that the staff treated me without respect and my experience was horrible.  Quite the opposite, actually.  What I mean is that birth is a messy business that happens to involve nether regions.  There is nothing like a nurse coming into your room, changing your baby, and then walking over to change you.  Before heading back to the OR I told my doctor that I'd like to use the restroom one last time because, well, I had to go.  He said, "No, don't worry, once we're back there we will empty your bladder for you."  Exact words.  Empty your bladder for you.  What?  One can outsource the emptying of one's bladder to a third party?  Blow my mind.

5:  Drinking Poop Tea

Ok.  After abdominal surgery, things can be a bit slow moving, if you catch my drift.  Ok, ok, let's just call the tree a tree.  Abdominal surgery gives you incredible gas.  This creates pain, which can radiate into your shoulder and convince you that the hour of your death is at hand.  The sweet nurses told me they could make a special drink that could help with The Situation. It's basically tea steeped in warmed ginger ale.  Ya'll.  It was smack-yo-mama-good.  I asked for it. Lots.  LOTS.
Would you like to be put on the lactation consultant's schedule?
Yes, plus also I'd like some more tea, please.
Have you emptied your bladder today?
Yes, and can I have more tea?  It's so freaking good!
I'm just checking up on you.  How are you doing?
GIVE ME TEA! please?
Eventually you are going to need to start walking.
Can I have tea first?  TEAAAAA!  TEAAAAA!

 Actual image of Heather Frowow demanding tea

Well, fast forward to 7 weeks later and I'm still not over the tea.  NOT.OVER.IT.  My friend, Susan, who is a nurse came over to visit Max and I'm all, "OMG, I had the best tea at the hospital.  Do you serve your patients tea with ginger ale?  OMG, it's totes amazeballs."  And she's like, "Yeah, it's a tea with a laxative effect." Sooo...
Would you like to be put on the lactation consultant's schedule?
Yes, plus also I'd like some more laxatives, please.
Have you emptied your bladder today?
Yes, and can I have more laxatives?  They're so freaking good!
I'm just checking up on you.  How are you doing?
GIVE ME LAXATIVES! please?
Eventually you are going to need to start walking.
Can I have laxatives first?  LAXATIVESSSS!  LAXATIVESSS!

I'm so embarrassed, but if there is a next time I'll know to keep my requests to a minimum or have Andres make it on the sly.

6:  Weight Gain and Tears
At around 23ish weeks I apparently had gained an enormous amount of weight compared to your average preggo.  To the world I looked like this:

But to Dr. A I looked like this:

And he told me so.  Well, he wasn't like "you look like a beached whale."  It was more like "Stop eating.  Weight gain doesn't come from nowhere."  Jerk.  I cried all the the way to Earthfare, where I literally bought $80 worth of this:

What was I thinking?  Now I'm older.  Wiser.  I should have gone straight to chic-fil-a for this:

Live and learn.

7:  Carnage at Starbucks
At 38 weeks I found out Max was transverse and Dr. G told me that if he was still sideways at my next appointment I would have a c-section sometime that week.  I was so excited at the potential to have an early eviction that I brought my hospital bag with me to my next appointment because I was going to be like heisgoingtocomeoutrightnownowNOWoriwillcutyoupeople.  
Yeah.  Didn't happen.  He was head down, BUT, I maintain until the day I die that I felt his head float back up to my right side at precisely the intersection of Duraleigh and Ebenezer on the way home.  Just 5 minutes after my appointment.  I was so bummed.  Starbucks was the only answer.  So, I'm leaving Starbucks with my PSL and this lady looks at me with wide eyes and says, "Oh, honey, you look so uncomfortable!"  Without warning, I did this:

Only I did NOT look like Tierra.  I googled "crazy woman crying" and none of the images were emotional enough.  Then, I thought I'd google "Tierra crying" because I knew she could deliver the crazy I was after and she did not disappoint, no sir.  
Anyways, the poor woman apologized perfusely and BUT THEN some old lady came up to to me and was like, "When are you due?!?"  in such an accusatory tone that it was like, "you are clearly over a year pregnant, what are you thinking gestating that poor baby so long, you delinquent mother!?!"  At least that's what my pregnant lady ears heard.  I sobbed my way to the car, back to my house, and into my husbands pajama pants. 

And that's what it was like to be Heather Frowow Pregnant.

Kids in Mass

People were also bringing babies to Jesus to have him touch them.  When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them.  But Jesus called the children to him and said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.~~Luke 18:15-17

Let's talk about kids in mass.  Before I start, let me tell you my background.  I was raised in the Baptist church and children didn't start attending the main service until about age 5.  Babies thru preschool attended what was called "extended session," which is an extension of Sunday school.  As a result, if I were to bring Max into the service at my parents' church, every little noise would sound like a hurricane in the midst of such quiet.  So, we send him to extended session when we visit.  I don't think there is anything wrong with this, as it is just the culture of the church.  Catholic masses are exactly the opposite.  There is no "extended session" which lasts the duration of the service, thus if you are a human, your body is in the mass.  All those childrens results in a pleasant "hum" which masks outbursts of noise, for the most part.  I happen to LOVE having Max with us in mass.  I love that most people look back and smile at us when he makes noise.  I love that one time when Andres took him out of church, a man sitting close by said to me, "You didn't need to take him out.  He belongs here."  I love that when Max claps and loudly shouts "Yay!" after the choir sings, the music minister walks over to us and says, "That's so awesome!"  However, not everyone enjoys all the chitlins.  I have been present many times when a friend/acquaintance will say something to the effect of "I can't concentrate in mass because of the children."  This statement almost exclusively comes from those without children.  So, my first point is this:

1.  Your day is coming and you will eat your words.  I know because I was once among you.

But, wait!  I have more points!  MORE!  YAYYYYY!

Here is a purely practical point:

2.  If you attend a Catholic mass, you pretty much know what you are getting into, thus you cannot complain.  You know that there is no Sunday School and that as a result, families worship together.  If you seriously can't enjoy church because of noisy children, I suggest attending mass on a weekday or switching denominations.  Complaining about kids in mass is like complaining that McDonalds sells french fries:  you know what you are getting into.  So close your hole.  

 Ack!  This pic is probably so wrong.  But, what are the chances of talking about fries and Catholicism and then finding this image?  I had to use.

Now, let's talk about the Bible verses I posted above.  To recap, Luke 18 narrates a scene where mothers are bringing their babies and children to Jesus.  If you are like me, you imagine that scene talking place in an idyllic countryside with quiet, peaceful children to match the surroundings.  But, really think here.  Babies and children.  Lots of them.  And the disciples rebuked the mothers.  Why?  Because of germs?  NO!  Because the whole scene was probably utter chaos.  And what does Jesus do?  Does he say, "quiet down, one at a time, let's form a single file line?"  No.  He says that the kingdom of Heaven belongs to the little children.  Then, he presses the envelope further by saying that if we hinder a child, we ourselves will never enter the kingdom of Heaven.  Now, do I think that means that it's ok to let a child run screaming up and down the aisles at Mass?  Of course not.  But I do think this:

3.  If my ability to experience Christ in the Mass is hindered by a little child, I need to examine my heart, rather than mentally chastise the parent.  If my desire is to experience Christ in complete silence, then I should question my ability to experience Christ in my daily life.  Because daily life isn't quiet.  I need to cultivate a spirit which allows Christ to speak through the noise, messiness, and imperfections of daily living, which includes the hour at mass when I'm sitting behind a babbling, squirmy child. So rather than allow my thoughts to turn to annoyance, I should turn my thoughts into a prayer, asking God to help me experience him and be aware of his presence in the noisy, messy aspects of my life.  Maybe I could even make that my "intention" for the Mass.  Just a suggestion.  

Plus also, check out these verses:

I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.~~Luke 15:7

Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and on the sea, and all that is in them, singing...~~Revelation 5:13a

Then I heard what sounded like the roar of a great multitude in heaven shouting...~~Revelation 19:1a

So, my fourth and final point is this:

4.  Think mass is noisy?  Heaven will be noisier.  So you might as well get used to it.

Seven Quick Takes

Here are our seven weekly quick takes.  This week has been crazy in the weather department. Yes, I'll open right up by talking about the weather because I'm 95% geriatric, 3% pre-pubescent girl, and 2% in my thirties.

ONE

We started the week in shorts and short sleeves and I'm ending it in my jeggings, boots, and a cardigan.  Did we skip fall and go straight to winter?  Come on, North Carolina!  I'm already upset with you because you skip spring and go right into summer, but to leave out fall?  It's enough to make me want to move to Florida where at least I know what I'm getting into, so I won't have any Autumnal Expectations.  But, if we moved to Florida, we'd have to live in Miami because Andres is Colombian and it's Latin Law that you have to live in Miami.  Dre lived in Miami after college.  He had to.  It's the law.  I am not Colombian, or Argentinian, or Peruvian, Honduran, Cuban, Panamanian, what have you.  So I would 100% NOT fit into the Spanish speaking side of the culture and would also 100% be there for the ceviche.  Wow.  This digressed off the digression.  Moving on.

TWO

See?  Short sleeves and shorts.  But the point of this quick take is, how cute he is doing sticker work?  He takes the stickers from my hand, puts them on his little chubster arm, and then they make it to the paper.  Adorable.

THREE

My mom sent Max a Leap Frog Learning dvd in the mail last week.  It's called Letter Factory and it's really good!  It teaches the letters and their sounds to music and we watch it about every other day.  I'm really happy to hear Max imitate the sounds during the songs.  He especially enjoys imitating the "n" sound.  He also enjoys pressing all the buttons on the dvd player, as seen above.

THREE 

See?  See the weather I was talking about?  Long sleeves, pants, and a jacket!  A bonus is that we were the only ones at the playground this day because this mama ain't afraid of no cold drizzle.  That's not me trying to be all "what the hizzle?", that's literally "cold drizzle" as in "frigid moisture falling from the sky."  Just so you know.

FOUR

That would be Max walking up the stairs and preparing to slide down the slide all by himself.  He did not need to hold my hand on the stairs.  He did not need my help in scooting close enough to the edge of the slide so that he could go down.  And with that he's one step closer to college.  My big boy.

FIVE

Did anyone see the Elizabeth Smart 20/20 (or maybe it was Dateline?) last Friday night?  No? You were out having a social life instead of sitting on the couch with a bowl of ice cream and your husband and Meredith Vieira?  Losers.  Anyways, as a result I'm really curious about Mormonism now.  Not, like, looking to convert, but "wow, this is interesting to learn about" kind of curious.  So, I checked out about 5 books on Mormonism and the FLDS from the library. Had my mom been a radical unschooler, my knowledge would now consist of the following three things:

1.  Mormonism

2.  The Irish Potato Famine

3. How to make brownies

So thank goodness for public school.

SIX

Ok.  This one is going to be serious.  Sometimes I feel really guilty that Max is behind in his speech.  When I go down this trail I start thinking maybe I didn't talk to him enough, or talk to him in the right way.  Or maybe I talked too much so that he didn't have to?  Or that maybe I gave into too many of his grunts and points when he was little and wasn't supposed to be saying words anyway that he never bothered to learn and use language because I let him get away with pointing.  To help at home, I make him use a word or a sound instead of just signing, whining, or pointing when he wants something.  Yesterday, when a friend was over, I tried to make him say "juice" or "want" or "me" instead of just pointing and whining for juice.  He wouldn't do it.  I gave in, because I don't want Max to feel frustration, especially over food/mealtimes.  But he didn't even attempt a sound other than a whine, and I felt like such a failure as a mom.  Please understand that I am not disappointed in Max in any way. I am so happy with the way God made him.  I am not frustrated with him over this, I am not sad because of anything he does or does not do.  If Max never spoke a single word in his life, I could not imagine being any less proud of him or in love with him than I am now.  He is my perfect little boy and my miracle that I waited so long for.  What I'm trying to say is that I just sometimes feel mom guilt over this, and it's a deeper guilt than the usual everyday mom guilt.

SEVEN

Whew.  That felt really good to get off my chest and into the blog world full of random strangers. :)  Happy Weekend!

  

Zis ees life

My floor looks like this after every meal:

 Max is happy because he's not the one who has to clean it up 3 times a day (yet):

 How ya doin' down there, mom?  Don't forget the globs of sauce on the chair legs.  Also, I'm working on a poop:

And then it's time to clean his face.  Look closely.  The sauce is all over the forehead and all up in his hairline.  3 times a day.

I try to ignore the mess, but the truth is that if I don't, bugs will come.  For the food.

So this.  This is what I do all day.

Five Favorites: Reality TV Edition

Linking up for 5 favorites.
Monday night is always Girls Night.  It's a fact.  It's always on the schedule.  "Hi, Andres, how was your day, I love you Max, kiss, kiss, peace out to this Mama!"  Girl's Night started when Max was in utero and even pre-in-utero, and includes me and friends from church who are girls. Duh.  Why Monday night?  Because Monday is the Night of The Bachelor!  Not, like, single girls trying to find a living breathing bachelor standing the flesh right in front of their person kind of bachelor.  This kind of Bachelor:

This is good TV, ya'll.  It is always a train wreck and I'm TOTALLY on board!  In no particular order, here are my Five Favorite seasons:

ONE

Ben's season.  Who can forget Courtney?  Above is what she looked like saying "kill shot."  If I was on TV, I would definitely want to be screen captured using my hands as guns.  Just sayin.

Ok, to be honest I didn't REALLY REALLY love this season compared to later ones.  BUT, read all the quotes above and know that I listened to all those sayings while nursing Max for 3 hours straight.  Seriously, this season is memorable because Max was about 1 month old and SCREAMED from about 6 in the evening to 11 at night.  Unless he was nursing.  So, my friends J and S came over and brought me dinner while I sat cross legged on the couch with a boppy, nursing cover, and my child, and stayed that way for the entire show.  In addition to the quotes above, here are some other memorable ones:

Is he still nursing????--J

He's been going a long time.  Is that normal?--S

Uhhh, is anyone going to eat those 3 biscuits?--Me

TWO

Brad and Emily.  Sweet, beautiful Emily.  I don't really have a lot to say here, because this season is mainly included because without this season, we never would have had this:

THREE

Emily's season!  This was drama at it's best!  I have a few things to say about this season.

1.  

2.  

Best moment ever.

3. 

FOUR

If not for Brad Womack, we would never have had an Emily season, which also means we would never have had this:

See how it's all connected?  I LOVED this season.  And I LOVE Catherine.  I love Catherine with Sean.  But, let's be honest.  The best part of the season was this:

and this

Fake hypothermia.

and this

NOT a real fall!  This is what I look like when I'm resting.

There were some scary moments on the show like, right here:

Take cover!  Everybody scatter!

But, had Ashley not been there, we would never have been able to watch this:

BEST.SEASON.EVER.

FIVE

Ok.  Desiree's season was a dud.  It doesn't belong here.  BUT, it did bring us this gem:

I'm not always on TV, but when I am, I wear hideous vests.