Lunch with Oprah

Well…not exactly. But I was in her hometown of Chicago. And I had lunch. Several times. Almost the same. 😁

The last several months have been a whirlwind. I had great intentions to write a post about our Chicago  “baby moon” trip. Time got away. Always does. Then Oliver came a tad early. And then I blinked, and 9 months later, here I am.  My once weekly blog has turned into the semi-annual blog. Almost as exciting as the Victoria’s Secret sale. 🤩

The Babymoon.  Google says it’s a relaxing and/or romantic vacation taken by parents-to-be before their baby is born. I’m not sure who came up with the idea or where it orginated, but thank you for giving me a reason to hop on a plane one last time before becoming tied down for the next 18 years of my life.

Kiddddddiiing. (Sort of). 😆

Chicago was great. In Lindsay fashion, we hit up every touristy site, museum, show, shop, and fab restaurant that we could squeeze in in like 3 or 4 days. Somehow I managed to walk an average 10 + miles a day while being 31 weeks pregnant. And while I thought I was extremely exhausted…I clearly hadn’t ever had a newborn. 😳

Unbeknownst to me, Chicago has one of the biggest St. Patty’s Day celebrations. They kick it off by dying the Chicago River green. I was told I needed to go, so I did. It was kind of like watching the Macy’s Day Parade in NYC. It was freezing, way over-crowded, and once you have seen it once, you are good for eternity. But hey…I have now done it, and the end result was definitely picture-worthy. ☑️

Fast forward a few months. Sweet Oliver is already 9 months old, and I have no idea where the time has gone.  The cliche saying “having a child is life-changing” is the most over-used yet truest statement. EVER.  2018 was the hardest yet most rewarding year to date.  I love every single bit of that 320-ounce baby boy.  Yeah. That’s 20 pounds.  But I’m tired.  Always tired. Single parents need badges of honor. Dear Swede…please don’t leave me.  Stay-at-home parents need raises.  Lifetime supply of coffee and wine would be a good start.   The thought of adding another child to the chaos makes my head spin. Dear friends with 3, 4 (and dare I say more) kiddos….you all are brave souls (with patience God has yet to grace me with).

Side Notes:

• I quickly learned that pregnancy brain doesn’t really go away.  Hello, mom brain. Mom brain is just as bad, if not worse. Everything gets blamed on the tiny human. 
• My fantasy football team failed me yet again.  Leveon Bell…you are dead to me.  I should take a moment to thank the couple of people in my league that make sure the rest of us don’t ever secure that last-place spot.  Yeah…you know who you are.   
• The list of sacrifices that most moms make for their kids is forever long.  Like never-ending. The moment I put that breast pump on my boob and saw the vacuum-like contraption nearly suction the nipple right off of my mammary glands…I questioned every decision I had ever made for the last 35 years.

Big Hugs.  Lots of Love.

Pardon My Thoughts.