If you’re going to throw a party you have to invite people. Formal parties – like weddings – require honest-to-goodness paper invitations, not last-minute phone calls which are my usual MOA.

When Teacher and I were married you had to get printed invitations; making your own just wasn’t done. I am so glad the times have changed. Not only was it cheaper to make Cowboy and Princess’s wedding invitations, it was lots of fun, we got exactly what we wanted, and it was EASY!

 

First Teacher drew a set of hearts and scanned them to my computer. I cleaned up the edges, inserted them into a Word document – four per page – then printed out a template.

Then Teacher typed up all the wording in several fonts for Princess to choose from. She chose Snell Roundhand Script. Since I didn’t have it on my computer I searched and found a free download for it. I just LOVE finding free font downloads! I’m Amy Sue, and I’m a font addict…

Once Teacher had the text just right I arranged the invitations four per page and reception cards eight to a page and printed out templates of each. Now all we needed was vellum and cardstock.

 

For the invitation and reception cards Princess and I scoured several area stamping/scrapbooking and crafting stores. We found glittery vellum and sparkly cardstock, but couldn’t find anything in the right shade of purple. Finally I thought to ask my sister-in-law, Auntie Lainie, if she had any. She’s a Stampin’ Up demonstrator so I felt stupid not thinking of her sooner.

Next was a trip to Kinkos where a very helpful team member helped us print out our various pieces and parts, then cut them for us. The cutting cost more than the copying!

 
 

Not only did Auntie Lainie have the right shade of purple cardstock, she had inks to match, coordinate, and contrast with our purple. She also brought a large collection of heart/wedding stamps and punches for the ribbon. We used ink and stamps to fancy-up the sparkly reception cards.

 
 

Princess read in one of her evil bridal magazines to save money by using postcards in place of traditional reply cards. We bought pre-stamped postcards from the Post Office which was very economical because all we paid for was postage – the cards were included!

 
 

After stamping the front of the postcards we printed the back at home because the Kinkos’ lady was afraid they’d get lost inside the machine because they were smaller. Once we had the text lined up around the stamp it was a breeze to print them off.

 
 

Finally we stamped hearts on the front and back of the envelopes. Cowboy addressed them and put on wedding-ring postage stamps, Princess stuffed them, and we were done!

 

Beautiful, inexpensive, easy and fun – what more could you want?

The best thing about weddings is the cake.

Don’t get me wrong – getting dressed up is nice. Watching someone I love get married to someone they love is nice. Having a good meal and the chance to dance with Teacher is very nice.

But the best thing about weddings is the cake – especially if it’s got lots of buttercream frosting on it. Don’t give me any of that nasty fondant stuff. Yuck!

When we started planning Cowboy and Princess’s wedding I decided that one way to save money would be to bake the cake ourselves. Cake is easy, and I make a fantastic buttercream frosting.

The kids didn’t want anything fancy, just three heart-shaped cakes: a white one for Cowboy who can’t stand too much chocolate, a chocolate one for Princess who can’t get enough chocolate, and a marbled one to symbolize their joining together as one.

I planned to buy a heart-shaped cake pan and make extra 9×13 cakes to make sure we’d have enough. My decorating skills are rudimentary at best, but since neither one likes frosting all they wanted was a nice border to set off fresh flowers and the special cake topper Princess ordered.

However, Teacher had some concerns. “I just don’t think it’s wise to add any more stress to the week of the wedding.”

“But it’s crazy to spend two hundred dollars for a cake! Especially since it’ll end up in the sewer eventually anyhow!” Gross? Yup. Graphic? Yup. True? Undeniably.

“I’ll gladly pay two hundred dollars for a cake if it means less stress for you.” He hugged me. Who can argue with a man as wonderful as Teacher? Not me!

So the hunt for a cake began.

Still reluctant to spend so much on a cake, I began looking for a private baker who worked out of the home. Cowboy’s mom suggested “the Cake Lady” – they got cakes from her for all their family events. Unfortunately the Cake Lady was having surgery around the time of our wedding.

Next I asked everyone I knew for suggestions, and even posted on FaceBook and Twitter. We got a ton of responses but before we could check them out we discovered that our reception hall would only accept cakes from licensed bakeries.

Back to step one.

By this time I was sick and tired of thinking about cake, cake, and more cake. I was beginning to wonder if we really had to have a cake. No one would notice if we didn’t, would they?

Yeah, I know. They would.

Sick of looking, I narrowed it down to two bakeries: VandeWalles – recommended by Cowboy, and Manderfields – where Teacher and I got our wedding cake. Princess called for appointments.

The cake tasting scene in The Wedding Singer is the closest I’ve gotten to a cake tasting, so I expected our appointments to include a table covered with cake samples. I was sorely disappointed.

Our first appointment was VandeWalles. The wedding cake specialist was wearing a flour-covered apron and requisite ugly hairnet. The only cake in sight was behind the glass display counters. She pulled out an order form and began filling it in: name, address, phone number, wedding date, number of servings, flavor, etc. Princess looked bewildered as she answered questions and I started squirming in my seat; we just wanted to taste cake, not place an order!

Finally, toward the end of the interview I took the bull by the horns. “We’re also meeting with Manderfields, so I’ll call you either way. Ummm… could we get a sample since we’ve never had your cake?”

“Of course!” She disappeared into the back and returned with three small heart-shaped cakes in a pastry box.

“This is white with strawberry filling, this one is chocolate with mocha filling, and this is marble with a custard filling.” Score – we have cake!

That night I carefully cut each cake into four pieces for Teacher, Cowboy, Princess and I to taste. The chocolate was too chocolate-y for Cowboy but he loved the white with strawberry. Princess and I thought the chocolate was to die for, but unfortunately they were all a little dry.

The next night was Manderfields. This time I wasn’t surprised by the form and the questions, but she still got me when the interview ended and I asked for a sample.

“We really don’t have samples, but you could order a small cake for six dollars.” Not what I wanted to hear – we really wanted to taste Manderfield’s cake to see how it compared to VandeWalles.

“Are the yellow and chocolate cupcakes out there the same as a wedding cake would be?” Always thinking, that’s me!

“Yes, they are, just smaller. I’ll grab you some.” Success!

We left with vanilla, chocolate and red velvet cupcake samples. Personally I think if red velvet was a flavor it would taste a whole lot better than red velvet cake, but I guess some people like it. There’s no accounting for taste. I also gave in to the delicious Valentine-decorated butter cookies, and a cannoli for my Valentine, Teacher.

That night I carefully cut the cupcakes into three pieces – Cowboy was at work. They were much more moist say that ten times fast than VandeWalle’s but the flavor wasn’t as special – they tasted like a cake I could make from a box. Plus they left that nasty greasy film at the top of my mouth. I hate that.

So now what? Two tastings, no really outstanding cake.

Back to the phone… Tomorrow we try Simple Simon’s.

Here’s the dilemma: if Simple Simon’s is the one we can stop looking – but we won’t get to sample any more cake!

We need new legislation, and we need it now! All wedding books, magazines, brochures, websites, and other materials need to come with warning labels: “CAUTION! May cause normally rational brides-to-be into Bridezilla”

It all started when Princess was browsing through Peggy Post’s Wedding Ettiquette book.

“According to this book, my wedding attire is ‘Most Formal’ because I’m having a long white dress with a train, veil and gloves.”

“Mmmm-hmmm…”

“Since the wedding is at night the bridesmaids should wear long dresses.”

“Well… you have to keep in mind your age and your bridesmaid’s age. I think tea length will be formal enough. You didn’t want a formal wedding anyway, did you?”

“Not really.”

Silence.

“Mommy? It says you should wear a long dress with a hat, veil or hair ornament. Gloves are optional.”

Hat, veil or hair ornament? Gloves? Are you kidding me?

“Where does it say that?!”

“Here, ‘…the mothers should wear gloves, which are kept on while they are in the receiving line. They should also wear something on their heads – a small artificial flower arrangement, a hat, a veil, or a bow.’ “

Over my dead body.

“I think she’s talking about really, really formal weddings, and with older brides and grooms.”

She continues reading.

“She says the mothers shouldn’t wear the same color as the bridesmaids or each other.”

Like this matters in the grand scheme of things?

“When Dad and I got married both of our moms and my grandmas all wore blue, and our wedding worked anyway. See…” I held up my left hand, showing off my wedding ring. “We’re still married.”

A page turns.

“The book also says that whatever you wear sets the tone for the entire wedding.”

Of course it does.

“Mmmmm…”

“What ARE you going to wear?!”

“I don’t know yet, I’ll have to go shopping. Maybe I’ll pick the ugliest Mother of the Bride dress I can find.”

Suddenly my sweet baby channeled Bridezilla.

Clearly a reaction to Peggy Post.

“I don’t want you to wear an ugly dress to my wedding! Can I go shopping with you and help you pick it out to make sure it’s OK?”

“No! I was kidding!”

“But can I at least approve of it before you buy it?”

Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?

“No! You’ll just have to trust me. Do you really think I’d wear an ugly dress any time, much less to your wedding?”

“I guess not.”

Five minutes later…

“Mommy? The book says…”

I never imagined how bittersweet it is to be a mom.

When I was just eighteen I met the love of my life, Teacher. It was obvious we were meant to be together forever. Within six months of that first “hello” we were talking marriage and four months later we were married. I felt so grown-up; eager to leave my childhood nest and start building my own nest.

Only now do I understand how bittersweet that time was for my mom.

A couple of months ago Cowboy asked Princess to marry him. The sparkly on her finger is nothing compared to the stars in her eyes when she looks at him. I anticipated a lengthy engagement since Princess hadn’t even finished her first semester at college. Knowing how eager Teacher and I were to be married, I should have known better.

Around Christmas Cowboy and Princess started giving hints that their wedding would be sooner than I expected. They went to visit apartments and started talking about budgets and insurance. I buried myself in holiday activities, deliberately ignoring the signs that were staring me in the face.

The problem with denial is that you can’t keep it up forever. Eventually the facts rear their ugly head and bite you in the butt. Princess and Cowboy chose a wedding date in March, giving us just over eight weeks to plan. Their date fell at the beginning of Princess’s Spring Break so she’d have a little time to concentrate on her new role without worrying about school.

My initial feelings were joy and anguish, excitement and dread. For the first weeks I fought panic attacks whenever I thought about the wedding. There’s so much to plan! How will we pay for it all? Have I taught Princess everything she needs to know? Is she ready to run her own household? How will I survive not seeing her and Peanut every day? What if she needs me and I’m not there?

You see, Cowboy plans to enlist in the Marines but wanted to be married first for the benefits. According to Cowboy’s recruiter they’ll probably end up on base in California. California is a very, very long way from Wisconsin. My heart breaks when I think about not being able to see Princess and Peanut every day.

Fortunately I haven’t had much time to wallow in “what may be” because there’s too much to do now. The more time I spend helping Princess and Cowboy plan their wedding the more feelings of joy and excitement overshadow sadness and worry.

It’s obvious how madly in love Princess and Cowboy are – with each other and with their little Peanut. They remind me of Teacher, myself, and College Boy about twenty-two years ago. We’re still madly in love today.

Being a mom is often bittersweet, but it takes a little bitter to fully appreciate the sweet. It’s time to concentrate on the sweet task of planning a wonderful wedding for two people who are loved very much.

Wait – don’t go! You’re in the right place. I know everything looks different but it’s still me, and my happy crazy life.

Why?

Well, I liked the theme but was getting tired of it. And I decided that since my blog encompasses all facets of my happy crazy life the design should too. Most of all it was Pietra’s fault.

Who?

Pietra of Homestead Emporium. She’s been a fellow Lily Pad Landing artisan and friend for years. I was reading her blog and loved how the simple design highlighted her photos instead of distracting from them.

Of course with me nothing is as simple as downloading a theme. I felt her theme was a little too simple for what I had in mind. I wanted a 3D look with shading around the main area, and of course I couldn’t give up purple entirely. So I went on a quest to find a new theme.

To make a loooooooong story short, I searched, searched, searched some more, found one I could work with, then spent months customizing it. Literally, months! I collected design bits and pieces all over the internet and put them together – kind of like Frankenstein but without the torch and pitchfork-bearing neighbors.

Why not just design my own theme?

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Soooo funny! I know enough html and css to be dangerous, but that’s it. I don’t know php, which is the language needed for a blog, so I had to find a foundation to built on.

Wanna take a tour? Follow me…

First off you’ll notice the purple theme has been replaced by white. Much easier on the eyes, and it really makes the photos pop.

Next take a look at the gorgeous header at the top. It was created by my friend Tina of Joyful Rose. I made one myself, but couldn’t get it quite the way I wanted so I handed it off to her. She did a fantastic job as usual.

You’ll notice that I kept the sidebar on the right as before. It’s better for SEO search engine optimization reasons, and leaves nice wide content area. I can’t stand blogs that are so cluttered on both sides that you can barely concentrate on what you’re trying to read.

The sidebar itself has been tweaked. One of the coolest additions is a plugin my friend Michelle of Creo Communico clued me in to. It’s called Lifestream and will display your “social media” and photos automatically. How cool is that?!

Notice the cute little pencil and comment bubble graphics? I won’t admit how many hours it took for those, but I think they’re totally worth it. There’s a couple other cute little graphics on other pages – have fun discovering them on your own!

Old:

New:

I totally love it – what do you think?

OK, I admit right off the bat that I’m a day late; College Boy’s birthday was yesterday.

I have a good reason though: I couldn’t see.

Honestly, I couldn’t see on account of my eyes were too watery.

They were watery on account of the pictures.

Let me start from the beginning…

Last night I wrote this:
Twenty two years ago College Boy entered the world, and our lives have never been the same.

Pretty good start, huh? Not terribly original, but it gets the point across.

Next I was going to write a mushy poem about how much we love College Boy, what a great son he is, how proud we are of the man and father he’s become, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Then I realized that my poem-writing skills stink and College Boy would laugh so hard he’d spew Mt. Dew out of his nose. That is not a sight anyone needs to see, especially not little Love Bug who would probably be scarred for life. I don’t need that on my conscience.

Instead I decided to post some “College Boy Growing Up” photos in honor of his birthday. I dug out College Boy’s baby book and photo album and got ready to do some serious scanning. Pay attention now – this is where the watery eyes thing comes in.

As I paged through twenty-two years of memories my eyes started watering. Awwww, he was so cute! Excessively. How did he grow up so fast? Not the pretty tears-rolling-down-the-face stuff that you see in movies, Now he’s married and lives so far away but the ugly make-your-eyes-red-and-your-nose-run mess. Waaaaaaaah!

It was not pretty. The cat took one look at me and ran for his life. I don’t blame him.

A gazillion damp and crumpled tissues later the waterworks finally stopped and I went to bed. I knew there was no way I’d be able to write another word. On account of my eyes being watery, remember?

Today my eyes aren’t watery at all so I’m going to proceed with the College Boy Growing Up photo extravaganza. Just to be on the safe side, if there’s a danger of waterworks starting up I’ll yell the code word so you can run for the hills. Just listen for the code word. Then run for the hills. The code word will be “Run for the Hills!”

Here we go – College Boy Growing Up:
Don’t bother trying to wipe the dust off your monitor, it’s on the photos. I didn’t notice it last night… darn eyes.

Less than a week old. Just 4lbs, 4oz at birth; my sweet, little baby boy.

Four years old. Loves kitties, his little sister, playing with friends. Not so fond of tidying up.
Pets weren’t allowed in our apartment but Teacher smuggled this one in for a weekend.

Seven years old. Loves the color green, Nintendo, and Pogs. Hates coloring with a passion.
Did you brush at your monitor? The dust is on the photos; you can’t reach it from where you’re sitting.

Ten years old. Loves hockey, video games, and the Packers. Thinks girls have cooties.

Thirteen years old. Still loves green, video games and hockey. Discovers that girls don’t have cooties.
Heaven help me.

Seventeen years old. Prefers black to green, loves soccer and marching band. Not fond of mornings.

Twenty two years old. Loves his wife and daughter more than anything. Still not fond of mornings.
Has apparently developed a fear of haircuts.

Happy Birthday College Boy!

We are incredibly proud of the man you’ve become. You’re a wonderful father and husband, and we can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. We love you so very, very much.

My baby. My boy. My son.

What are you still doing here? Run for the hills like you’ve never run before!

This year I was looking forward to the Midwest Clinic more than usual because Teacher promised to take me to Frontera Grill – a restaurant owned by Rick Bayless, a Mexican food god.

We were hoping to go Thursday night, but when we talked to the concierge we discovered that Frontera doesn’t take reservations, and the wait was three hours.

Three hours is a long time to wait when you’re hungry.

Next to Frontera is one of Rick’s other restaurants, Topolobampo. Topo does take reservations but was all booked up for Thursday. Friday there were openings at 7:30 and 9:00, but almost as soon as the concierge had told us that, the 7:30 reservation was snapped up by someone else.

“We’ll take the 9:00 one!” Teacher quickly told the concierge. I was both excited and nervous, hoping Topo wouldn’t be as expensive as it sounded.

Topolobampo and Frontera Grill share one entrance, with a hostess counter and waiting area in Frontera. Off to one side of the waiting area is a display of Frontera food products, T-shirts, and Rick Bayless cookbooks for sale. Teacher looked over the goodies while I just sat and inhaled: the aroma of freshly baked corn tortillas and Mexican spices wafting through the air was simply incredible. My mouth started watering and my stomach growled – loudly. Luckily no-one else was near enough to hear it, or I would have died of embarrassment.

When our table was ready we followed the Maître d’ to our table. He reminded me of Alfred from the 1960’s Batman series: white-haired, tall, thin, and extremely dignified.

If you’re too young to remember the 1960s Batman, this is Alfred.

We followed “Alfred” from from the colorful and festive Frontera to the restrained elegance of Topolobampo. I concentrated on not tripping on my own feet or gaping at the surroundings like a backwoods Wisconsin hick. I’ve been in nice restaurants before, but Topolobampo is the nicest I’ve been in – so far.

Entering Topo was like walking through a wall of cotton – sound died behind you as you passed between the wall-to-ceiling shelves that divided the hallway from the dining room. White-clothed tables filled with well-dressed diners stood in two columns near the walls and glowing candles were everywhere. We were seated at a table very near the kitchen – close enough that I could peek into the kitchen through the gap in the curtains.

As we were nibbling cucumbers and jicama with guacamole and sipping our margaritas, Teacher suddenly leaned over to me and said in a low voice “Is that him over there?” he asked, indicating the corner booth on his right.

“Him who?” I don’t always catch on quickly – especially when I’m focused on guacamole and tequila.

“Him – Rick Bayless”

I looked closely at the man in the booth… thin, light brown hair, beard, glasses, wearing a baseball shirt. He was listening intently to the person across from him.

“I don’t know… maybe…” it was hard to tell. I kept watching furtively over Teacher’s shoulder. Suddenly the man laughed and looking at the familiar smile I knew without a doubt.

“Yes! It’s him!” I hissed. Teacher turned his head to peek over his right shoulder. It WAS Rick Bayless! We were star struck.

I wanted to rush over to the table and beg for a photo of him and Teacher together, but he seemed to be with his family and I didn’t want to intrude. Besides that, no-one else else in the restaurant seemed to notice he was there, and I had been raised to never make a scene in public. I settled for keeping a close eye on the corner table, waiting and watching. If another fan made the first move I was ready to spring out of my chair and be second in line for whatever they were getting!

“Look at that – he’s signing a book for someone” Teacher pointed out. Ah-ha – someone else knew that Rick Bayless was in the house. And… my mind connected the dots… if he’s signing a book for someone else maybe he’d sign one for us too!

“I wonder if he’d sign a book for you?” I suggested to Teacher.

He shook his head, “I couldn’t ask him to do that” he said.

Teacher never ask for things for himself, but I knew how much a signed copy of Rick Bayless’s cookbook would mean to him. The next time our server stopped by I smiled up at him, “Would Mr. Bayless autograph one of the cookbooks that are up front for me?” I asked. I seriously considered fluttering my eyelashes for good measure but decided it would be overkill.

“I ask my manager.” he accented and ducked into the kitchen.

Time passed and I watched our server pass in and out of the kitchen without a glance at our table. I was beginning to wonder if my request had been blown off when a woman in a black pantsuit stopped at our table. “I understand you’d like an autographed book?” she asked.

I nodded as she went on, “All the cookbooks up front are already signed, but I can ask him to personalize it for you. What’s your name, and which book would you like?”

I was so excited I could hardly form a coherent sentence. “We’d like ‘Mexico One Plate at a Time’ please. I’m Amy, but could you have Mr. Bayless make it out to my husband? It’s a Christmas present… shhh, don’t tell!” I joked, covering Teacher’s ears. Teacher made an innocent face as the manager laughed and walked toward the front of the restaurant.

I kept sneaking peeks at Rick. “I wish I could get a picture”

“Do you have your camera?” Teacher asked. When I nodded he held out his hand.

Feeling like a kid about to steal from the cookie jar I sneaked my camera out of my purse under cover of the tablecloth. Checking to make sure the flash was off I handed it to Teacher under the table. We held our breath as he put the camera on his lap, angled it at the corner table, and pressed the button. He hurriedly made sure the photo worked out and had just handed the camera back to me when our server came by to refill our water glasses. Close call, but we had the goods!

I admit it’s not the greatest photo ever, but considering the circumstances I think it’s pretty fantastic. Here’s proof that we were within spitting distance of Rick Bayless!

As our heart rate returned to normal I noticed the manager approaching Rick’s table with a book. Look hon, he’s signing your book now! Rude or not, I couldn’t take my eyes off Rick as he signed Teacher’s book.

Shortly after we had finished dessert the manager brought the signed book to me with a smile. “Thank you so much!” I gushed at her, opening the book to see the autograph. “It’s perfect!”

I’ve given Teacher many Christmas presents over the years, but this is definitely one of the most special. Not because of the great meals he’s made from it, or even just because of the autograph, but because of the special memories that go along with it. Merry Christmas, my Love!

This is the first year the Midwest Clinic was held at McCormack Place. Before this it was held at the Hilton, which provided a festive atmosphere, but was too small and cramped for the conference. McCormack Place was more sterile, but had plenty of room for everything the Clinic offered.

This is the tallest escalator I’ve ever been on; two full stories. I wanted to go up and down a couple of times but there wasn’t time in between sessions.

One of the best things about the Midwest Clinic is the exhibit area. Every year I look forward to picking up freebies, collecting complimentary military band CDs and shopping!

When you enter the exhibit area your senses are assaulted by a dizzying display of colors, sounds and smells. The entire area is jam-packed with vendor booths designed to attract your attention, and hopefully your money too. The scent of fresh-baked pizza and cookie samples provided by fund-raising companies teases your nose and invites sampling. That’s my sweetie, front and center with the green bag on his back. Hey, wait for me!

Yesterday this guy was dressed head-to toe in a green velour elf costume, complete with jingle bells on his hat and the tips of his pointy elf shoes. I was disappointed to see that today’s costume was just a hat and vest. Either way that booth attracted lots of attention!

The hubbub of hundreds of voices blend with the cacophony of sound coming from the instruments in the instrument manufacturer’s booths.

Students are especially eager to “strut their stuff” on the display instruments. Teachers will check out the range of an instrument but students show off their most complicated drum riff or the highest note they can squeeze out of a trumpet. There’s my honey again!

If you’re easily distracted like I am you’ll find yourself wandering from booth to booth without any idea of what you’ve seen before and what you haven’t. I was totally distracted by this line of cymbals. I love percussion, but best of all they’re shiny! I suffer from an acute case of “ADOS: Attention Deficit… Oh Shiny!” Lucky for me Teacher is used to me getting sidetracked, and made sure we saw everything anyway.

I had to take a picture of the internet cafe – all those people lined up in pairs facing the same way staring at computer monitors was hilarious.

This was my favorite booth! The artwork of Karen Cannon is so impressive. Not only is she talented, her paintings capture the essence of kids and music in a whimsical, humorous way. We ended up getting note cards – no pun intended – for in the big kids’ stockings. Shhh, don’t tell – they still believe in Santa Claus.

This adorable gingerbread house stood in the middle of the floor on the way out of the exhibit hall. Unlike the Hilton which is lavishly decorated for Christmas every year, McCormack Place had very few Christmas decorations, so the gingerbread house was even more special.

Who goes to a conference the week before Christmas when they haven’t started shopping and don’t have a single Christmas cookie made? Teacher and I, of course. Last year we didn’t attend the Midwest Clinic because it was so close to Princess’s due date so we were really looking forward to attending this year, even if it meant we’d be scrambling to get ready for Christmas afterward.

I knew it was going to be a great trip when I got dressed that morning – the pants I had planned to wear didn’t fit because they were too big! Woo hoo! I had to dig down to the bottom of the stuffed-so-full-I-had-to-sit-on-it-to-close-it suitcase to get my black dress pants, but I didn’t care; my other pants were too big!

After getting the big kids off to school and settling Grandma with the little boys we hit the road. The weather was dreary, but I was armed with NPR on the radio, a Caramel Macchiato in my hand, People and Cosmo on my lap, and my honey beside me. What more could a girl want?

The scenery is pretty monotonous, but I like seeing the wind farm – those windmills are ginormous!

Did you know that it’s really hard to sew a button on the pants you’re wearing while bumping along the highway? It’s even harder getting an in-focus photo of that button while bumping along the highway.

Right when the skyline came into view it started snowing, huge fat flakes just drifting down. You can’t see them in the photo, but I swear they’re there – cross my heart.

I always say a little prayer when we enter the city – Chicago drivers are crazy! Teacher’s a great driver; it’s the other cars I don’t trust.

After several close calls and almost running a red light we arrived at the Palmer House and entered another world; one where uniformed staff are ready and willing to tend to your every need. We pulled up to the curb where a team of valets is ready to pounce. Teacher had barely stopped the car before two valets sprang into action. One put our luggage on a cart while another took charge of our van. It all went so quickly I didn’t think to snap any photos. Ten minutes later we were in our room, calling down for our bags to be brought up to us. Speaking of our room…

Here it is – pretty posh, isn’t it?

The view leaves something to be desired though.

With my zoom I can see the gym. I could even watch people working out, if there was anyone there.

We barely had time to hang up our clothes before it was time to catch the shuttle to McCormack Place. The shuttle stop was under the El tracks – no matter how many times I visit Chicago I never get tired of watching the El clatter by.

Next stop – The Midwest Clinic!

Once upon a time a modern fairy tale began when a handsome and more-than-slightly smart-alecky College Boy married a beautiful and very smart Irish Girl. They were very happy together, but something was missing.

“We need an apartment.” Irish Girl told College Boy. Wisely, College Boy agreed, so the happy couple searched high and low until they found a cozy little apartment that was perfect for them. But something was still missing.

“We need things for our apartment – lots of things.” College Boy told Irish Girl. Looking at the empty rooms, Irish Girl agreed. Little by little they filled the cozy apartment with many wonderful things. But something was still missing.

“We need a kitten,” College Boy told Irish Girl, “And I know the perfect one!” College Boy took Irish Girl to meet the tiny kitten, and when he was old enough Loki moved into the cozy apartment. But still, something was missing.

Irish Girl because she was very smart knew what was missing. “We need a baby!” she told College Boy. College Boy was surprised, but he couldn’t disagree. Before long a sweet little Love Bug joined the happy family in their cozy apartment.

Little by little Love Bug grew and grew, and before long she learned how to sleep at night and play during the day although she doesn’t always choose to do so. She used her baby smiles, coos and giggles to wind her parents around her little finger. When she’s a little bit older she’ll lead her parents on a Quest to visit the King and Queen aka Teacher and me, and will most certainly rule the castle during her visit.

We can’t wait!