My permanent plus one.

If you’ve followed me for a while, you know I’m not big on excuses. I’m about to make a giant exception because I have the world’s best excuse for not blogging for the last 2+ months:

An (almost) 10 week old, 12 pound, blue-eyed, smiley, loud, boob-loving, diaper change-hating baby boy.

That’s right – I had our baby at the start of Memorial Day weekend. It was the scariest, longest and most wonderful day of my life. The phrase “Your life can change in an instant” was never more true than the moment I laid eyes on my sweet little boy. And in that moment, it was as if a switch went off, and every other priority I had took a back seat to trying to be the best possible mom to my child.

Thus, blogging (and healthy eating, sleep, some relationships, email maintenance, etc.) all took a back seat. And I’ve spent the last (almost) 10 weeks working on my new goal. Have I figured it out? Not at all. Am I doing my best? I’d like to think so. Is it easy? Absolutely not. Is it worth it? Absolutely yes.

I’ve always enjoyed the phrase “plus one.” When we were dating, I liked being my (now) husband’s “plus one” at a wedding. When pregnant, I liked jokingly telling my friends when RSVPing for BBQs or parties that I’d be Donavan “plus one” (assuming Kyle would RSVP for himself, which rarely happens :)). That phrase has a new meaning to me now. My son is my permanent plus one. Even when he’s not physically with me (something I’m still trying to get an emotional hold on!), he’s still with me. I think about him constantly. I dream about what his life will be like. I can’t go anywhere without me – he is my permanent, life-long plus one.

And I couldn’t be happier about it. So, no promises on how long I’ll keep blogging or how frequently you’ll hear from me. I have (in all honesty) more important things to do for the foreseeable future. But when you do, I hope you’ll welcome the new me – Donavan plus one. I think that, with him, I’m simply a better version of myself.

Small Pleasures, Volume 45

Today, someone wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. That’s enough to bring me back to the blogging world. (And no, I didn’t cry, but I almost did!)

Happy (early) Mother’s Day to all the amazing moms out there, especially mine. Thank you for being the best role models I could ask for. 

The yellow raincoat.

Confession: I’m mildly obsessed with my raincoat.

Is there something special about this raincoat? In my mind, absolutely. In everyone else’s? Probably not at all. But this isn’t about what everyone else thinks, it’s about what I think. So here’s what is special about it.

It’s yellow. And not just any shade of yellow – the perfect shade. It’s softer than mustard but not at all pale. It’s not neon, or marigold … it’s perfect yellow. I suppose “lemon” would be the closest shade I can use to describe it. But trust me – I spent years looking at yellow raincoats and the shade absolutely matters. Mine is perfect.

It was a gift. My uncle bought my raincoat for me on a trip to visit him in San Francisco. So, not only was it an extremely kind and generous gift, but it came from somewhere special.

It has lasted. I got this raincoat in 2009 shortly after graduating from college. You’d never know by looking at it. I swear this thing looks as good as it did the day we bought it.

I get so many compliments on it. This has really surprised me – I mean, I know I love my raincoat, but I never anticipated the comments I’d get on it. I honestly think I get one every time I wear it. Just this morning in the elevator someone remarked on it. I think the yellow perks people up when it’s a rainy day – which is precisely the reason I wanted it in the first place.

It has seen the world. Ok, maybe not the world, but my raincoat has been some pretty great places. From its original trip from San Francisco back to Pennsylvania, it has literally crossed the country – to Oregon, Georgia, back to California and New Jersey. It has crossed the pond with me too. In fact, I wore it for about nine days straight on our trip to Europe this summer. My raincoat has helped me make memories in London (twice!), Paris, Amsterdam, Scotland and Ireland.

A peek of my raincoat at a castle in Ireland.

I think this last point is the one that makes me love the coat the most. Each time I wear it, I think of one of the memories I’ve had in it. Sometimes, it’s as simple as a fleeting thought of taking it off in a cafe in Amsterdam, jet-lagged and craving strong coffee. But sometimes, it’s a real reminder – like the time I found a crumpled map of Dublin in its pocket.

Sure, at the end of the day, it’s just a coat. Are there others like it? Absolutely. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I’ll be devastated when it’s time to retire my yellow raincoat, because I’m sure I won’t be able to find anything like it. But until then, I’ll keep wearing it (luckily it fits over my baby bump!) and remembering how much I love it.

My raincoat and me (and Kyle!) at a Beach Boys concert.

Here’s to golf.

About a year ago, I was gearing up to take a trip I’ve wanted to take for a long time. It wasn’t an exotic destination, it wasn’t all that far away, but it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience … and it was coming true. I was going to the Masters!

As I sit at my desk drinking tea from my Masters mug and water from a Masters tumbler and, well not wearing a Masters polo because I’m too pregnant to squeeze in to any of my old clothes, but wanting to be – I’ve reflecting on how special that trip was for me.

I’m not a skilled golfer. I don’t spend my weekends on the links, don’t frequent a driving range, and consider myself merely a fan – not even a super one. But I do have a deep respect for the game. There’s something so special to me about the still and quiet of a golf course, the sound of a club hitting a ball, the rules, the etiquette, the tradition … it’s all magical. And I can confidently say that there is nowhere in the world that those magical moments are more pronounced than at Augusta National.

I spent several days in golf heaven last year, and left with even more respect and admiration for the skill of the pros and the tradition of the game than ever. Oh, and I got to take in the charm that is only at the Masters – the absolutely stunning sights of the course, the fancy fashion, the southern charm and the absence of pretty much all technology.

Even still, while I got to experience something that so many people will never get to do, the best part was that I got to do it alongside the people who are most special to me. My dad has told me several times that walking in to Augusta National together was one of the top five moments of his life. What I think he hasn’t realized is that it was one of mine, too.

Here’s to a few days of great golf – and lots of nostalgia for me!

Cookie Monster.

It’s a really good thing for me that we’re past two major seasons – Christmas and Girl Scout cookie seasons, to be exact.

I haven’t had many pregnancy cravings, but my sweet tooth has definitely been more active than ever before, and cookies are a major downfall for me. Needless to say, they are something I’ve started to keep away from the house … and if I can make it out of the grocery store without any temptation, it’s a good day!

Kyle would definitely go as far as to say I’m a “Cookie Monster,” so I really enjoyed watching the original monster himself in this funny video today. I’d take Cookie Monster as a life coach any day!

Should have bought it when I saw it.

I knew I should have bought this dress when I was looking at it earlier this month.

If nothing else, I’ll feel good about myself knowing that Duchess Catherine and I both liked the same dress! Now how do I go about convincing her she needs an American best friend …

Small Pleasures, Volume 44

When someone you don’t know says to you, in an otherwise empty elevator, “I don’t want to creep you out …” you don’t really know what to expect. In this case, what followed was the nicest thing I could have imagined.

“You look amazing.”

After absorbing (which felt like it took 10 minutes but probably more like 2 seconds) I smiled and said, “Really? Thank you!” She responded, “You do! You just look like you have a basketball under your shirt. You’re glowing!”

And then the doors opened and she walked out.

I don’t know this person. I might never see her again (I work in a building that’s 24 stories tall). But she turned an otherwise ordinary Thursday morning in to one that was special, all because it brightened my day. And now I’m going to remember that feeling the next time I want to tell someone that they look fantastic.

See guys? It really is the little things.

I know nothing.

I exhaled, audibly, when I read this. Most of you know I have a strong love for the Today Show, so I’m biased when it comes to feelings on the anchors. But Savannah Guthrie’s take on being prepared for motherhood really resonates with me.

I know I am woefully unprepared for what the next phase of my life will look like, regardless of how many books I read, product reviews I sift through and friends I ask for advice. However, I truly believe that I will figure it out. I will learn. I will practice. I will laugh. I will cry. And I will do my absolute best to hold on to the memories of when I felt like I couldn’t do anything right. Sounds like those are some of the best memories I’ll make.

Punctuation – today’s digital accent?

Warning: nerd alert. If you want baby news, workout musings or even anything about relationships/marriage/family/friends (basically all I ever write about), you should stop reading now.

Still with me? Cool, I like you.

Anyway, I loved reading this story about punctuation in today’s digital world. It discusses how each of us has a distinct way of punctuating our messages in a world where messages are measured in brevity and attention spans are short – oh and when we aren’t actually talking to each other.

Now that I’ve read it, I’m thinking about my habits, and those of the ones I communicate with most. I’m an avid user of the dash and exclamation point, and an occasional ellipsis. But what I do still use is commas, and I have no plans of giving them up any time soon.

I’ll stop there … but not before sneaking in one ellipsis.

‘This is your captain speaking… my co-pilot’s my little girl’

I just adore this story about a father and daughter sharing a special moment together. No, this isn’t hormones talking – this is just my general love of anything having to do with dads and daughters. As a woman who has been so lucky to have a GREAT dad, I get really touched by these sorts of things!

And Dad, it’s not too late for us to do a one-time radio show …