The Price of Business

6 markers. 1 roll of scotch tape. 1 dining room table full of marker. 2 foil-wrapped caramels. 18 saltine crackers. The headband off your head. 1 in-operable Blackberry. 1 load of laundry. A milk and juice soaked Onesie, AND a herniated disk from being 9 months pregnant and repeatedly picking up a 25 pounder yelling "up! no down! up!", while leaning for optimal cell phone reception. THAT. That my friends is the apparent price of doing business with me at 6:30 PM when my husband is at the Celtics game.

On the phone while dropping blanky.



Where'd those wrappers come from?


I am not sure there really is such a thing as an after-hours call, but when I told the partner there were 2.5 hours out of 24 that were really not a great time for me and he chose (after much polite protest and gentle encouraging otherwise) 30 minutes smack in the middle of that time, well, I can't say he wasn't warned. And I can't say, I was quite prepared for what ensued. I thought I could entertain Elliot with special paper pens & crayons. I set her up at the table (where she has previously played quiet and contently for 10-40 minutes at a time) right next to me and my computer and cell phone. She tore threw the paper, unraveled the entire scotch tape roll and marked up the place all during the 7 minutes waiting for the phone call to begin. Clearly I could not sit next to her, so I lugged my stuff to the kitchen counter, leaving her strapped in her chair. My call came in. 9 minutes late now and Elliot is already done with all the special activities I planned for her. She starts yelling to get down. I have to comply to keep her quiet and hear my client. She drags her chair to the kitchen counter. Climbs up and is banging on my computer with me. I take back the mouse and am "calmly" trying to explain to Mr. Partner what all these spreadsheets mean to him. Out of the corner of my eye, Elliot has a mustache. It is chocolate. Unraveled and being stuffed in her face from a Christmas basket leftover on the counter. OK, I think. So a little chocolate caramel before bed was not in the cards. At least she is quiet. The second piece I practically unwrapped for her. She wants down. She wants up. She wants my headband. She wants the phone from my ear. I am 6 spreadsheets in with only 4 to go. Elliot has not interrupted in at least 2 of them ... oh! because she found another phone and a bag full of saltines. She is a very busy girl and is looking forward to our next call and all she can pull off then. Oh, and I am pretty sure this one was only about 12 minutes. All photos were taken after the call (I am not THAT good, or irresponsible to take them during), though she was not sure we were off it yet.

Happy 70th Papa!

Ben's dad John, Elliot's "Papa", just turned 70. We celebrated in a lovely private room in one of Boston's oldest restaurants haunted (maybe quite literally) by some of Boston's historic royalty, like JFK. Though not required by the restaurant, we made it our own black tie affair - which is no small feat for a party of 10 with 2 pregnant ladies and 3 patrons under 8 years old.

It was touch and go if Elliot was even going to come to dinner with us. Since the night before, we took her out to eat with us, and without warning, no coughing this time, and no other signs of illness, she threw up all over us, the table and herself. And not just a dainty little bit. I am pretty sure we are banned from Not Your Average Joe's date-night Fridays for ever more and probably indirectly reminded some patrons to use birth control that night as we ran out of there like a scene in a horror movie. Poor Elliot! She recovered at home, but we feared a repeat performance at Locke-Ober (who recommended the private room in part bc they don't take kindly to babies!).

Turns out she was a super star diner. Enjoying her (dad's) JFK Lobster Stew, all the bread basket she could eat, mashed potatoes and french fries. Special thanks to Alex & Zoe & the ghosts down the hall for keeping her entertained most of the night.


The Kids in the Hall


Elliot explaining to Ammi what happened at dinner last night...

Posing with the posse.

The Ladies


The Gents.

The flaming dessert of fire! It kinda fascinated and scared the kids.


Elliot & Ben leaving into the night.

Tricycle Time!

Elliot loves her new tricycle and I love that I can steer it for her. Once there was a break in the snow, we took it for a spin. Pedaling is not yet a strong suit of hers (again the push bar steering thing is awesome!), but she loves being on it. We went for a mile long ride in her pink coat and sunglasses and she kept her gloves on and her feet on the pedals the whole way. Is she really only 18 months? Whatta trooper!



After the trike ride, it was time to get down to DJ business. Who has been singing B I N G O with her? We have never seen the moves she pulled out when this song came on. Oh, and I realize (and maybe you wouldn't if I did not point it out), she is still not capable of dressing herself. So don't ask what she is wearing.


Finally, she remains obsessed with her robe, and we remain obsessed with photos of her in it. Busy day at the spa for her?

Happy 2008!

Once again Mindy and Chris graciously hosted a rockin New Year's eve dinner. Last year, they did it out of pity on us with the "newborn" ... this year they hosted out of pity for us with the baby and the mama who can't stay awake past 9. We cleared out early, leaving them to celebrate New Years at the proper time.

The girls, however, did not seem to care that the "New Years" celebration was at 7:42 pm. They led us to the porch with pots and pans to bang. Happy New Year! This celebration was preceded by a delightful kareoke concert with Elliot on the keyboard and Charlie at the mike.