Everyone has all gone home, except for Ryan, who decided not to return to the puddle of snow that is NYC. So tonight it's me and two CDs full of photos from Christmas that Dad burned for us. There are some really great ones in there, like these:
Nate playing with this super cool puppet from his Uncle Jack.
And him discovering the big boy bike under the bookcase:
Then, later, taking it for a spin during an unprecedented White Christmas in Birmingham.
Plus catching snowflakes with Grandma and Grandpa, which was equally fun.
Dad is so good about saving all these photos and burning them for us, as well as bringing up prints (he's a popular guy at Sam's photo processing lab). This year as a gift he even gave us all thumb drives with all the photos of Christmases throught the years (and DVDs of all the Flip movies we recorded - a huge project).
I love all the photos and the stories behind them. Right now, though, I'm trying to figure out what's the best way to share my personal stories. Tweet a photo? Write a blog post? What kind of blog post?
Here's a snippet of one -- Dad reading "'Twas The Night Before Christmas' on his iPad" on Christmas Eve?
And the goofy hat that Mom got for Ryan ("to stay warm!") that we all passed around and tried on:
Even Gatsby.
Then there was Nate ringing the bell for everyone to come sing "Happy Birthday" to the Baby Jesus.
And more Gatsby.
Soon it's going to be a new year. I'm launching a new website and am wondering ... what's the next chapter of this story? How will I share it?
What do pepole want to read about? Pugs with furry hats? How do they want to read it? I want to know. And in the meantime, I'm just going to put one letter in front of the next.
We inherited Birmingham's best Santa from my friend Jennifer. For years, she threw a party at her house for her daughter and daughter's friends, during which Santa would show up and surprise all the children.
Each one had time with him, sharing their wish lists. And of course, their doting parents had time to take plenty of photos. The party was always a special day for our family from the time Nate first attended at eight months old.
(He's told us that he cherishes this photo of him and Nate from their first Christmas together.)
This year we took over the party. We booked Santa months in advance (he starts filling his calendar for Christmas parties in August). I've been cleaning and decorating and trying to get things ready for weeks.
Way more difficult than I ever imagined.
So it's well known that I love entertaining, especially cookingthrowing parties. The only thing is, I also have a crazy demanding job (that I adore) & have been sick. So it's come down to the past two weekends, and the help of some good friends, to pull it all off.
I think we did. I'm not used to having a house filled with children, so when it was all over I had that post-wedding feel, like so much had gone into it and I wasn't really sure how it turned out.
There was some frantic last minute chocolate covered Oreo making (covered in gold bling - inspired by this Couture Parties post), and Jingle Juice mixing. There were multiple trips to: Target, Publix, Ross, Pier One, TJMaxx, Costco ...
But the kids squealed when Santa walked in the door. And so did a few of the parents ...
So, here's the party. And I have to say, to share this is a big deal. I have a critical eye when it comes to, well, everything, but especially things like this. Then I have to remember I'm not an editor here and that this won't be in a magazine.
This is what life's like without a stylist. (Makes me appreciate the stylists I work with even more.)
Come on in to the Santa Party -- the dining room. Yep that's a Buddha. He chills out with the nativity set:
I set up an area in the kitchen for the kids to paint ornaments and color. (The aluminum trees have vintage ornaments from my mom and various thrifting finds.)
That held their attention for a while. Until this gentleman arrived:
And he came bearing ... presents!
He's pretty amazing, with kids of all ages.
I was actually surprised how quickly how many people didn't RSVP which made it difficult to figure out pacing the kids went through their lists and photos with Santa.
That was fine though. At the end, he read "'Twas The Night Before Christmas" and gave each child a special gift. He also told them that on Christmas Day to look aroud and enjoy their family -- that was love all around them.
When we were all done, and everyone went home, we spent some quiet time with Santa and the pugs. He was very happy to hear the story of Gatsby. Merry Christmas indeed. Love all aroud.
I'm taking a break from hanging ornaments and making cheese balls (hmm, who knew). Tomorrow we host our first ever Santa party, during which the man in the red suit will come to our house, surprising Nate and a few dozen of his closest friends. 4 year olds, a house full of vintage ornaments, and loads of sugar. Good times.
I've been cleaning and decorating and shopping non-stop to get ready, with a heavy dose of work and being sick in the middle of it. So for the past 48 hours, I've been raiding my closets trying to find the right serving pieces (thank God for Homegoods) and a gold tablecloth (thank you Ross), there's not a whole lot more time to fuss. Thankfully.
Nate and I decorated our family tree tonight, and we chilled out on the couch. This was the view:
Totally candid. Gatsby!
Curled up on the edge of the couch it looked like he'd always been here. Then in an unreal turn of events, his "sister" Lolita jumped up right next to him and snuggled up, just like she did with F. Scott.
(Shane and I keep saying we're going to get Gats a Red Solo cup, because F. Scott loved to play with a Solo cup our first Christmas. Also the year of a notorious Christmas party that ended up at the Nick with a Neil Diamond tribute band. Some things have changed.)
It only lasted a second, but there it was. The stockings were hung, and the pugs were snug.
We had so much fun reading everyone's suggestions. But as soon as we got home we realized that one name was obvious: Gatsby.
It's so good to hear his paws tick, tick, tick on our hardwoods. He takes a running leap and jumps right into your lap, with mucho pug kisses and snorts. He runs around with Lola and has curled up with her on the carpet. He's his own pug, but it's uncanny how much he reminds us of F. Scott.
So it's only fitting that we pay tribute. The Great, Great, Gatsy. From the book:
"He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself." - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, Ch. 3
As I write this, Lolita and Gatsby are sitting regally on the couch, one on each end, matching furry bookends. (Remind me again why I got a brown velvet couch? To accentuate the fawn pug hair?)
Here we are on our first walk in the neighborhood yesterday. Thanks for all the suggestions. Snorts!
It's been an adrenaline filled afternoon and evening as we've gotten our yet-to-be named pug back to the house. Thanks to everyone who has suggested names. (There is a front runner, but we're going to wait till we decide on it for sure before revealing.)
Pug loved riding home in my Dad's Lexus, and was amazingly at home:
a)in Nate's car seat and
b)in my lap.
He looked at all the fall colors whizzing by and was calm, except for the few moments where he seemed to realize what was going on and then licked my face.
Since getting home, he's been checking out the lay of the land. It's been so fun watching him realize that he has the run of a whole house and backyard. Something he sure deserves.
There have been some "accidents" - few stray poops here and there. It happens.
Right now he's curled up beside my chair, cooling off on our hardwoods and watching DirectTV. Yeah, not too shabby. He and Lola seem to be getting along well so far, although she's currently perched atop her velvet sofa looking a little skeptical. In time.
Much more to come. In the meantime, a video from the handoff at the shelter, when we realized that pug is quite the ham for the camera. Yeah, that will come in handy in this family ...
Dad already created a collage from our first few hours -- check it out below. Pugarazzi.
11/12 Update: Today is the day! We've gotten so many great suggestions for names -- thanks to those who have left comments. I've also added some names from friends that have made suggestions via Facebook and Twitter -- check them out below. And keep them coming!
Tomorrow is the big day: name TBD pug comes home from the shelter!
I was driving back from South Carolina today when it hit me that we're really going to have a new dog in the house. It's the first time we've brought a new dog home in six years, and our first adoption.
Everyone keeps asking what we're going to name him, and I haven't been able to come up with an answer (this happened so quickly and I've been on the road, so it was very much unlike our first two pugs).
So, I need your help in naming this sweet boy:
We like to use literary names (I know, a little pretentious, but there it is.) F. Scott's full name was "F. Scott Fitzpug" and Lola is really "Lolitapug." My first thought was "Ernest Hemingpug" put that is super long ("Ernie" could work as a nickname, but still not sold.)
So far possibilities are:
Walker Percy(pug)
Truman Capote(pug) ("Truman" for short)
And ... that's all I've been able to come up with. (Actually, my friend Carl came up with the Capote suggestion. Good one, Carl.)
Here's what friends have suggested:
Fyodog Dogstoevsky--maybe Fee for short?
Pugga Gump. Victor Pugo. Edgar Allen Pug.
Walker Pugsy (Percy)
"Percy Pug Shelley? Ralph Waldo Emerpug? (I like Waldo) Pug Woodward to honor your newspaper roots?"
"How about Oscar Wilde or Paddy in honour of my favourite Irish Poet, Patrick Kavanagh?" (This one is from our cousin Lorraine in Ireland)
Mario Pugzo: (Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday)
"OK, OK the preschool teacher in me wants to bring this conversation to the ones that first taught us to love books; Dr. Pug-N-Seuss, Norman Pugwell, Shel SilverPug, Ezra Jack Pug, Tomi De Pug"
Mike Tyson (he was a PUGilist)
Pugyard Kipling. Or just Garp.
William ShakesPug
"Pugsley Adams - then you could find him a Wednesday to destroy trains with! Oh no - then you need a Fester"
"How about Walter Pugcrite? Rocho? St. Pugsley of Asissi? Anthony (Patron Saint of Pets)"
charles bingley-to be called bingley
Lewis Grizpug for Lewis Grizzard
Aaron Elvis Pugsley Jr (for the Elvis contingency)
Love can find you in the most unsuspecting places.
For me, it happened yesterday, on my way to work. A regular old Monday morning, I was going over details of the week's calendar, when my cell phone rang. It was my friend Anne. Weird for a Monday Morning.
"Are you feeling blessed today?" she asked.
"Um .... should I be?" I replied.
Before I knew it I was in Anne's car, speeding down (um, driving the speed limit that is) the interstate to head to a local animal shelter. They had a two-year old male pug there, up for adoption and needing a good home.
This is not what I had in mind for my Monday morning. But there I was, trying not to get my hopes up on this sunny Birmingham morning. After we lost our beloved F. Scott Fitzpug seven months ago I'd thought about opening our hearts and home to another dog, but we didn't actively pursue it. When the time was right it would happen. I knew that it would be a rescue dog.
Anne, who rescues and fosters dogs (a true champion for them) knew of my wish, and that it would also take a special dog to burrow his way into our family, which had, after all, started with me and F. Scott so long ago. She'd made a note that I might be open to another dog in her special book where she keeps track of such things.
Then she drove me to the shelter. I would be calm. I would be level headed. I knew what we could and couldn't handle, and I didn't want to get attached. I was calm as we walked up to the room of crates filled with dogs looking for their forever homes. And I met him:
He bowled me over. Literally.
They estimate "PacMan" is between two and three years old. He was abandoned, a case of cruelty and surrender. When he was brought to the shelter by a Birmingham policeman he was covered in fleas and under fed. The kind folks at the shelter gave him a lot of love, and he's gained weight and is a healthy boy (even crate trained).
I filled out an application and said a prayer that we'd make the right decision.
There is no replacing F. Scott. But I got tears in my eyes when I looked into this pug's face. He looks like F. Scott, and I like to think that our founding pug has had a hand in this from where he is on the Rainbow Bridge.
But "PacMan" is unique, with his own personality and energy (boy, does this dog energy.) Being a responsible dog owner, I wanted to make sure that he would get along with Nate and Lola pug. Here they are all meeting for the first time:
"Can we keep this dog?" Nate asked. Today we'll tell him the great news. We didn't know he was going to come into our lives right now, but "PacMan" (forever name TBD) has decided to keep us.
Thank you Anne, thank you F. Scott, and thank you to the shelter workers who kept him alive until we could meet. (I also think my grandmother, who recently passed away and loved dogs, had a hand in this. Just last week my aunt adopted an adorable dacshaund. Coincidence? Hmm.)
We hope to honor all of you in the adventure that we begin later this week, when we bring our new, sweet pug home. Pugs are an incredible part of our family, and we're thrilled to welcome another one into our house.
As our first adopted dog, I can say the process has been incredible, and I'm honored to bring this little dude home (even if it does involve picking up random poop). Snorts and kisses; let the adventure begin ...
When the weather is as beautiful as it is today in Birmingham. I think about walking with my dogs. It's also prompted by working on archiving digital photos, like these taken in August 2009, for a Southern Living story that ran last winter.
The pugs were such champs, despite that it was in the mid-90s in Birmingham. They did take upon take in the name of showing *exercise,* even though a pugs' exercise is from the couch to the food bowl.
We had fun. We always did, even when having to ham it up for the camera.
I sure miss F. Scott on days like this. But these photos help me remember him, help me lean into the cooling temperatures of the fall, and the changes that come.
We had The Talk today. Nate was helping feed Lola, and he said:
"We have to put some in F. Scott's bowl."
Pause.
We weren't sure quite how to broach the subject. His teacher said that we should bring it up with him and tell him directly, but I wanted to wait until he brought it up. After all, he's observant, but he didn't say anything until today, a week later.
I told him that we had to talk (therefore being the first woman in his life to ever have to say that phrase -- sorry little dude). Then I asked if he remembered how F. Scott had been sick and that we'd visited him in the dog hospital. No response.
I went on to say that F. Scott had been very sick, and that the vet gave him medicine, but he didn't get better. Nothing.
Me: "So F. Scott's with God now."
Nate: "Who is God?"
Uh oh.
Um, "God made all of us and watches over us. He's in heaven and all around us."
Nate: "Where's heaven?" Then, immediately after, "Can I help Daddy paint outside?"
Conversations about the afterlife with a 4-year old.
I am going to involve him in planting this beautiful hydrangea from our vet, Dr. Daniels.
Thanks to the rains of the past week, the plants are really growing. Although I'm not so sure the answers to his questions, I am glad to see new life take root.
Here are a few photos of the yard taking shape. Shane painted the trim around the front door today. Much better than white.
I wanted to sleep a lot, and I did. Till I woke up at 2 in the morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I cried, aka the "ugly cry." I ate two Publix black and white cookies. I reached for some healthier distractions and found a few, all of which I recommend for anyone going through a) loss b)c onfusion c)quarter or mid-life crisis. Those categories pretty much cover it all, right?
I watered my new plants, which was a surprisingly therapeutic activity (especially when done with a glass of wine in hand). Following the guidelines of The Grumpy Gardener, my Gardens colleague Steve who is in charge of my yard makeover, I stood out in the yard and gave each plant a slow, long shower. There are a lot of plants so this takes a good while, but I don't mind the smell of mulch and the routine.
Walled myself off at Hoover's Ross Bridge Spa, where I turned off my cell phone, sat in the steam room, and had life's stressed scrubbed off of me. Call me high-maintenance (and trust me, you wouldn't be the first) but hot water and good product soothes the soul.
Attended the first ever Ignite Birmingham, in which a bunch of speakers had five minutes to talk
about anything they're passionate about. Lots of my friends spoke, like Shaun Chavis who did a rockin' talk on "Finding Your Inner Foodie." Arts, media, science -- the talks ran the gamut, and it was pretty brave of those folks to get up and participate. I want to speak next time. (Wade Kwon has a great recap, complete with Tweets from the evening here .)
Shane, Nate, and I created this "ugly bug" as part of a classroom assignment. Granted, we probably took the project to ridiculous lengths, with me doing the concepting and styling, Nate painting and gluing, and Shane coordinating the mechanicals. But that's what we do, and it made us laugh, and that was good.
Graham Nelson Minnesota baby extraordinaire and son of Alisa!
Nat Reads Natalie writes about books, movies, and life in Birmingham.
Nikko's Blog Nikko is an American ex-pat living in Madrid. I met her through Cliff.
Hugh's News Blog of an exceptionally talented Dad, grandpa and Yankees fan. In-depth commentary on said Yankees, grandson and state of the world in general.
Moms Rising This site advocates for moms to decide how they want to raise their kids -- whether it be to work outside the home or to be a SAHM. Most of all, it's about fair, equitable conditions in which one becomes a mom and the chance to raise healthy kids.
Mojo Mom A site that helps moms reflect on the fact that they are actually people, not just baby-making beings.