Life after death


First things first. 

Will the person who has visited my blog 84 times in the past few days by Googling "Hannah Mayer Skidmarking Photos" please drop me a line just to let me know you aren't a psycho stalker killer?  Or, if you ARE a psycho stalker killer, please give me at least two weeks' notice because I'm REALLY REALLY close to finishing my book and if I die before it's finished then I swear to God I'm going to spend eternity haunting every Barnes and Noble within a 20-mile radius of your house moaning about dreams unrealized.    

See here?

I can see you. 

And I'm totally flattered but you're creeping me out more than the person who got here by Googling "Big fat smelly priest." 


Over the weekend we experienced a whirlwind of emotionally exaggerated events, which is awesome timing for my pregnancy because Wednesday I officially entered the "I will sob uncontrollably if my pancakes look at me wrong" phase.

Saturday morning we attended the funeral of Nick's best friend's Mother who lost a long and courageous battle with cancer.  We were running on Mayer time, and showed up 10 minutes late to the funeral home to an empty parking lot, minus a lone hearse getting a jump start.  Which is a little ironic if you think about it. 

Apparently we had missed the procession to the mass by about 2 minutes, so we Dukes of Hazzarded it to the church.  We parked and ran, entering a side door and immediately found ourselves the guests of honor at a wedding.  Telling the crowd to try the veal before we slowly backed out the door, we finally found the church and my 2-day crying spell was officially green-lit.

Within an hour of returning home from the funeral, Lila took her first steps.  Which my sister Beth did an AWESOME job of capturing on camera.   

To recap in case you're at work, I asked her to take some footage to get a better vantage point, and after about 20 seconds she found Lila's first steps to be boring and decided to capture some video of her own son picking lint off my stairs, missing the entire thing.  

But that's okay... think of the 20 seconds of memory I saved from having to store such inconsequential and meaningless things like first steps on my computer.  

My sister was in town because we finally decided it was time to drive the devil out of Lila and have her baptized.  You know you have procrastinated on such things when in a few weeks you could actually do a two-fer.  Which I plan on doing for potty training, by the way.  

See how much happier she is now? 

And, finally, to bring our weekend circle of life to a heartwarming close, we ended with Lila's first birthday party.  With only her grandparents, aunts and uncles there, it was a far cry from Ellie's first birthday bounce house, keg, catered, rented table, pinata, 110-person blow out extravaganza.

But I just want to go on record as saying I love her just the same.  

And yes, I just noticed that the tip of my belly is touching the counter.  

And no, that cake isn't half eaten.  It fell apart when I was dumping it in the carrier and I tried to surgically fuse it back together with frosting.

I'm starting to understand the curse of being the second born.