We've got (really cute) mail!

So Courtney came over on Sunday and created one of the cutest mailboxes ever!  The truth is that I get stupid excited about putting our last name on anything.  Maybe it's because it's only been my last name since October '09.  The newness hasn't worn off yet!  Anyway, the thought of having it on the mailbox in a super cute way thrilled me.  And I wasn't about to use those sticker letters you can buy at your local Wal-Mart.  (No offense to any of you that has those. Really, they're nice.  I mean, you know, not bad at all.  Er, ummm, well, yeah)

Courtney has been making some seriously cute stuff for some seriously awesome prices and as soon as I saw her mailbox creation I knew I had to have it.  Hello, it's our name! So take a look at the picture and at Courtney's blog (The Funky Dot) to see some seriously wonderful (and NAMED!) hand-made stuff! 

And yes, our mailbox is up outside.  I however did not feel it necessary to display to the world our dead flowers (sad, i know) and bird poop-covered post.  Both of these things will be remedied this weekend.  Hopefully. 

I think we need a bigger beach...

Peeling forehead?  Check.  Flip flops covered in sand that won't wash away?  Check.  More freckles than should be allowed on one face?  Check!  Sounds like someone went to the beach.  And that someone was me!  After over a year away from the waves, I finally got to go back to the sun, sand and surf. 


Months ago I got an email from my friend and "soul mate" (right, court?) Courtney about heading to her parents' place at the beach for a weekend.  I believe the words "you can't say no" appeared more than once.  Well, then, "yes" it is!  Not that my arm had to be twisted mind you.  So last Friday Courtney, her friend Stephanie (who is now my friend; Facebook says so) and I made our way to the place where the air is most humid. 

As soon as we got to Topsail (or some variation in the same two-mile radius--the name changed often and I couldn't keep up) on Friday and took our things inside, Stephanie brought out all her little friends.  Here she is to the right, friend in hand. 

I will spare everyone the details (this is a family blog, after all) but my old arch-nemesis Vodka showed up.  He charmed me with his hidden evils, cleverly disguised in a chocolate martini, and before I knew it I was making late night calls to everyone from Steven and my sister to Stephanie's husband.  Good ol' V and I have broken up.  Again.  For good this time.  I promise!! (PS--Thank you, Courtney, for making sure I didn't die.)

The next morning (when the sun was a bit too bright and my head was pounding in my ears) we hit the beach!  We spent time walking with our feet in the water and looking for various treasures that had washed up on the shore.  I need to tell you that I did this walking without a cover-up.  That's right, ladies and gentleman, I walked around in nothing but my bathing suit.  This is a major personal vicotory for me.  Clearly we did not document this in photos (i'm certainly not there yet!) but I promise it happened. 

After the beach we hit the pool where Courtney would enjoy the water.  She's got a thing about fish and seaweed and sharks and sand fiddlers and stingrays and anything that may attack, brush up against or swim next to her in the ocean.  The pool did have one danger that the ocean didn't.  Other. People's.  Kids.  We were brave and stuck it out for as long as we could.  But once "Marco Polo" headed to the deep end, it was done. 

Later that evening, while walking along the beach (in the opposite direction as before for some variety) we saw some pretty interesting things.  Things that confirmed Courtney's fears of the deep blue (or grayish green) sea.  First there was the sting ray.  On the shore.  Yeah, out of the water!  A fisherman had accidentally caught him while clearly trying to catch, well, fish. 

Here's how I think about wild animals.  If one hurts me while I'm in its habitat, well then, that's on me.  I know sting rays are in the ocean.  I take that chance when I go in the water.  And this sting ray did not choose to be on land.  So he's forgiven his trespass into people places.  Because clearly, we can go into their homes but under no circumstances should they intentionally come into ours.  (Yeah, yeah, not logical.  Umm...don't care.)

So the stingray didn't do anything wrong.  But this next guy?!  Just who the heck does he thing he is?!  Silly shark, land is for humans!!   Ok, this is where i draw the line.  Those things have lots of teeth.  Lots.  Of.  Teeth.  (PS--he was alive and someone picked him up and threw him back in the water.)

Granted I thought it was awesome to see a shark that close and not be in an aquarium.  I'm a bit of a shark nerd, ask my husband.  My favorite movie is Jaws (the first one.  Two was good, Three was ok and Four should have never been made!), I am an avid watcher of the Discovery Channel's Shark Week, I love to visit aquariums with shark displays and I drug my husband to the Museum of Natural Sciences to see the Megaladon exhibit.  When I was a child my parents took me to Sea World where I (accurately, mind you) named all the sharks in the tank.  Like I said, nerd.  But even this dork draws the line with sharks on land.  And yeah, he's small.  But it's just for now.  They get bigger.  Lots bigger.   

Including and despite the shark sighting, it was a wondeful weekend.  Just three girls (a stingray and a shark) hanging out.  Oh and what would a vacation (even small weekend ones) be without the obligatory self-portrait?  See below :)

Is that a cow in my yard?

When Steven and I first started looking for houses we had a few items on our wish list.  Well, make that a few thousand.  But there were only a few (really, this time) that were "have-to-have" type things.  Individually we wanted things that were a bit different.  For the man of the house it was a garage.  His baby had to have a home!  Click for a reminder.  I had two main have-to-have's; an actual laundry room and a front porch big enough for at least two rocking chairs.  Check.  Check.  And Check. 

Together our main thing was to be somewhere we could have some land.  We didn't need a ranch or anything but we didn't want to reach out of our window and touch our neighbor's house.  I'm all about liking the neighbors but i don't need to hear alarms or activities in other homes.  We wanted a house in Johnston County.  In other words, The Country.  And we got just that.    

There are a few ways to know for sure that you live in The Country.  One of the first tell-tale signs is the over abundance of farms.  On the way home, I pass multiple fields, all growing something that someone or something will be eating in the months to come.  Rows as far as you can see full of everything from corn to strawberries.  

Where there are farms, there is farm equipment.  All the roads that we drive on day to day have been there for decades.  And back when they were nothing more than dirt and rock and clouds of dust, tractors roamed free.  Well, in Johnston County, they still do.  When it's plowing time, picking time, planting time or any time in between, you're going to eventually find yourself stuck behind a tractor going just over the speed of snail.  On occasion, the nice man at the wheel might pull over as far as he can and wave you around.  But mostly you're stuck.  I guess they figure they were there first.  And they'll be there last at that rate. 

From our front porch i hear church bells, crickets and the wind in the trees.  We have deer that roam through our yard at night and a giant bunny that murders flowers.  There are fireflies by the hundreds (they're kinda magical, aren't they?) and 100 times as many stars.  And, on random afternoons, when looking out in to the back yard, you just might see this...

Yeah, that's a cow.  Not sure if you can really tell from the picture but that's what it is.  The tangle of trees and other shrubbery that you see marks our property line.  There's a little wire fence that keeps the cows on their side and us on ours.  It's so little you can't even see it there.  And that cow was staring Steven down while he took this picture.  It was really funny actually.  Well, funny until a cow takes you down.  I guess that's something else you could hear about in the country. 

Oh, Baby!

Steven and I are surrounded by babies. Everyone we know has had one, is about to have one, or is seriously considering making one. Just this past weekend, we welcomed another little bundle of joy into the world. Harrison Monroe Swann was born on Saturday, June 12th at 12:18 a.m. He’s a little thing, weighing in at just over five pounds. But he’s got a head full of hair and has two parents already completely wrapped around his adorable little finger. At the bottom are a few shots of Steven and me with Lil’ Man.

It’s funny how life shifts. There was a time when the talk was boyfriends. Who are you dating? Do your parents like him? You’ve been together a few months?! That’s crazy! And then it all changed to marriage. Do you think he’ll ask you? When’s the big day? A few months from now?! That’s crazy! And now it’s all about the babies, Baby. When are you due? In a few months?! That’s crazy!

Babies are definitely on the brain. Big ones, little ones, not quite here ones. Ones that have grown into “big boys” and “big girls.” Shy ones, loud ones, perfectly perfect in every way ones. (Sorry, I slipped into a little Dr. Suess there.) I think of all the changes, of all the shifts from one life topic to the next, this is the biggest. Going from being just you to just two to adding one more is a big deal. I love watching my mommy friends. It’s amazing to see them with their children and to have been lucky enough to have known most of them from the beginning. Katie, Luke, Collin, Addie, Harrison, soon-to-be London. There's Hillary and Cole and Gracie and Maggie.  I feel like these kids are my friends. Little miniature homies that I just know I will love, love, love forever.

Can you dig it?

Last weekend Steven and I joined his side of the family in VA at Smith Moutain Lake.  His parents rented the place for week (and some change) so we and steven's brother and our sister-in-law headed on down the road and across NC's northern border.  What we found when we got there was nothing short of, well, groovy. 

It was dark when we got there last Friday night.  Anthony, Steven's older brother, met us in the driveway and the first words out of his mouth were, "did you wear your bell bottoms?"  I beg your pardon?  Usually "hey" works just fine as a greeting.  "Oh, you'll see."    As we walked up to the house the first thing we noticed was a very large picture window.  The lights were on in the house so we could clearly see Steven's parents and Anthony's wife, Jessica (yes, both Cerame boys married Jessicas) sitting in the living room.  Oh the living room.  When we stepped through the front door, we stepped back in time.  A time warp, baby, to the days of afros and peace signs.  Rusty orange carpet and gold, gold everywhere.  1975, nice to see you! 

Let me say that there was nothign wrong with this house.  The size and layout were perfect for the vacationers that we were and its dock was close to the house and great for sitting and swimming off of.   There were enough bathrooms and bedrooms and places to sit at dinner.  It was all just a bit (HA!) dated.  And it was a constant source of giggles for the two days we were together.  Need a visual?  Check out the picture to the right.  That's the totally far out light fixture in the bathroom.  And I know you can't really tell but those pictures above the mirror?  They're cross-stitched.  Just like most of the other decorations in the house. 

Steven and I stayed in a room with mustard yellow carpet and the beams on the living room ceiling were made of styrofoam.  They were perfectly accented by the large (and i mean large) golden lamp and the fish tank with no fish.  Yeah, its little pump was on.  Nope, not one fish to be found.  Maybe they got out and went down to take a peak at the wallpaper in the basement bathroom.  From a distance it looked like toille.  Up close, naked ladies with strategically placed hair, apples and shrubbery.  Clearly, that room is for adults only.  Bow-chicka-wow-wow! 

We had a great time in VA--even it it was VA circa 1970-something.  We spent lots of time down by the water, soaking up the rays (or having my mutant white skin reject it ferociously) and thinking of all the ways we were redecorate.  It was a great time and we'd love to go back.  Can you dig? 

The Big Clean

I’m not a nasty person. I’m really not. I like the house clean—not just neat but clean. I like my things in order. Before I leave work in the afternoon I straighten the stuff on my desk so that I don’t freak out the next day. Things have places and I like for them to be there whenever possible. (All my Mommy friends are laughing at this right now. I know, I know, talk to you in a few years when the kids arrive. I gotcha.) I’m a bit of a “Neat Freak” one might say. I get—slightly—bent out of shape when things get really messy. I—might—throw mini tantrums when dishes pile up or clothes don’t make it to the hamper. I—could—have a panic attack if that pair of shoes/glass/empty bottle/blanket/pillow/magazine/etc. stays there one more minute!! It’s part of who I am.


So please someone tell me why it is that my car looks like it belongs to Pig Pen’s long lost sister?! And it’s not only how it looks. The other morning I got into the car and was accosted by a foulness that I don’t remember smelling before. Panic. That smell! It’s in my car! It’s in the carpet! It’s in the seats! Ew—is it getting on me?! Breathe through my mouth, breathe through my mouth!  Ew, it's in my mouth!  Breathe through my nose, breathe through my nose... 

Action had to be taken. Quickly. I talked to Steven and asked if we could clean my carpets in the car. Sure. Oh good! I can’t deal with this smell. You know what we really need to do… Uh oh, what? Take the carpet completely out and power wash it. I beg your pardon? Yeah nothing gets to be too simple in the Land of Cerame. Rent a steam cleaner (or borrow one)? Nope. Take out the seats and rip the carpet out completely? Abso-freakin-lutely! I was hesitant. I was nervous. I said, “no way, Jose.”

Never before have I questioned a suggestion that Steven has made about a car. Never. Well you know what they say about first times all that. This was not happening. What if it got distorted and didn’t fit in there right when we were done?! Jess, this car is almost 10 years old. There is no way that carpet is going to lose its shape. There’s no simpler way to do this? Of course there is. But this is the best way. Of course it is. And it’s cheaper. Sold.

So Steven took the carpet out.  To the right is a picture of what we saw when he did.   Do I have to tell you again that I'm not nasty?  The stains were awful.  The worst part is that I have no idea where they came from!  I don't remember spilling Coke (or some variation) in the back seat and on the floor.  I don't sit in the backseat!  This is not my fault!  How long had that been there?  Blech. 

After we removed everything we sprayed it down with cleaner (Maybe i got a little over-zealous and sprayed so much that the power of the power washer was unable to completely rid the matts of all the suds. But just maybe.)  and then hung them by the clips at the car wash.  See below. 

Steven gagged a little at the smell that came off the carpet.  The water that ran from it was a murky brown.  Again, not nasty, People!   Well, I'm not but that crap was.  Oh gross, I just noticed that his feet more than likely came in contact with that water!  Eh, after hockey skates, the funk could not have bothered him much. 

We let the carpet dry in the sun and then i doused it with enough Febreeze to choke a small child.  (note: no children or animals were in danger during the cleaning of this vehicle.)  Steven put everything back together (my hero) and now it looks the best it has since I got it!  It's not perfect--a few faint stains remain--but it's a world of improvement.  Now if there was only something we could do about it's seeminly permanent gray tint.  Wash it, you say?  Whatever...