Anniversary

I don't even know where to start, it has all been so amazing. Seriously, how the heck did I get paired with the exact person on earth I'm supposed to be with? It sort of blows my mind. It's just so unbelievable that that dude I married three years ago compliments me in every way, in every situation. Anyway, as far as the other night goes, I shall just start from the beginning.

Back in the day we decided that I will always be responsible for planning the odd anniversaries and he will get the evens, that way I get the "smaller" of the "bigs," like 5, 15 and 25, and he will get the "bigger" of the "bigs," 10, 20, 30, etc. etc. Anyway, being that this year we celebrated our third year of wedded bliss, it was all me, baby. 

One thing about us, we are major surprise people. Chad has a hard time telling me what we're going to be having for dinner because he wants it to be a surprise. I can't stand telling him that I may or may not have purchased shrimp at the grocery store so that he can surprise me with whatever the heck he does with it. Bottom line, we basically live and die for the moment of surprise, be it large or small. 

But here's the thing: Chad is a master.

Yes I try, but somehow he always blows me out of the water, but NOT THIS YEAR!

It was like an olympic sport for me: making phone calls here, going to check out menus there, researching yelp high, scourging food blogs low. It was nuts. NUTS, I tell you!

But what I settled on was just beyond awesome:

Dinner reservations at the Blue Bayou inside of Pirates of the Caribbean at good ole' Disneyland, where we have always wanted to serenely sit and admire the fire flies, followed by a lovely bout of wine tasting over in California Adventure.

OH YEAH, GIVE IT UP, MAN, GIVE IT UP! DRINKS ON YOU FOR NICOLE'S AWESOME IDEA!

Anyway, I felt super sly because I kept this bad boy plan under wraps BIG TIME. When I made the reservation I asked if she could email me a confirmation, and she told me that wasn't an option because Disney doesn't do that. Hmm... So after feeling slightly annoyed, I realized that this simply meant that there was no paper trail, JUST IN CASE the man wanted to go rummaging through my inbox... Which is a completely insane thought... But seriously, just in case. Proof that we are psychos over here. Anyway, after realizing that goin'-a-rummagin' would produce nothing, I felt even more awesome.

Finally, the big day came to celebrate. I kept telling him that we were going horse back riding behind the Hollywood sign {something which I would think would be so ridiculously amazing, but Chadly would hate. SOMEONE gets all hay-feverish around those beasts. Boo.}, to which he would always laugh awkwardly and then say, "No but seriously, is that what we're doing?"

EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL EVIL laugh, I had totally done it. Kept him in the dark. 

Finally, when we were pulling out of the driveway, I checked his wallet to make sure we had our passes, and then told him what was up {but not the wine tasting part, because I couldn't reveal too much too quickly!}.

After a round of high-fives and excited yelps, we were off and running! We arrived about 45 minutes early, so we got ourselves drinks at the ESPN zone where we watched the first few minutes of the Angels game. You know, there's just something about drinking a beer with your man when the kids are more than taken care of and you're wearing fabulous wedges with an awesome beyond awesome short little dress. I know, totally weird, but it's the truth! It was so darn fun and crazy of us!

So after jamming through my brewskie, we took off for the ole' Bayou. Really quick though, I felt completely freakish rockin' heels through Disneyland, so much so that we were just laughing. There I was, all made up amongst the jean-donning, Nike-wearing herds. Hilarious. But anyway, we sat down for dinner, and holy guacamole, it was so darn good. Amazing, actually. 

Of course, once we sat down we went through our nightly ritual of asking the other what the peak and pit was of their day was, but this time we did the peak and pit of our entire marriage.
Ahh, how romantic to hear the peaks, but when it came to the pits, man we couldn't take each other seriously. It was just too pleasant of a moment to sit and stew on how I suck at housecleaning! "Oh, well" to that my friend!

Anyway, after dinner we headed on over to California Adventure to commence some good ole' fashion drinking, albeit classily so. Well, guess what? Apparently the pictures online completely lie to you when they show that you'll be underneath a twinkle-lit sky swirling your glass to and froe! It was like a straight up bar with a few bottles of wine behind it, all of which would be tasted from plastic cups, which we were "free to walk around the park with," but unfortunately was closed for the night. Hmm... Not what  was expecting, so we decided to heave-ho over to the Jazz Kitchen, which is where Chad took me on my 20th birthday back in the dating days.

As soon as we took a seat right next to a far-too-mellow newly 21-year-old, we ordered some cocktails. My hurricane was outrageously amazing, but Chad's mint julep was straight up alcohol with a pinch of leaves. Disgusting, I say! So we left there and went back to the ESPN zone, where we discussed how Chad's future man cave will flaunt the 100+ inch screen, watched the rest of the Angels game and laughed like crazy at the sports Jeers of the Year.

 

Bottom line was this: in 60 years when we're sitting there like two old cronies, he will still make me laugh like a hyena and I will still make fun of him for watching infomercials late at night, all while shaking my cane at him from our bedroom, yelling into his man cave with the 100+ inch screen.
It will be a wonderful future for the two of us, a wonderful future.

{Ugh, the photo quality and lack-o-editing is driving me nuts, but hey, what can ya do? When a lady has two sleeping bambinos up there, time is of the essence!}

The "why's" gone out of control

Cart's has been in the "why" phase for quite a few months now, something which always cracks me up because it's just so simple and precious. Anyway, while making the thirty minute drive to my parents house the other day, it got a little bit out of control. Here is how it went:

Carts: Trash truck?

Me: I don't think we'll see the trash truck today.

Carts: No trash truck? Why?

Well, it's Saturday, I don't think the trash truck comes on Saturday.

Why?

Because the trash men need a day off too.

Why?

Because everyone needs a day off.

Why?

Because they work all week long.

Why?

Because that's what their bosses want.

Why?

Because that's how they make money.

Why?

Because that's how business works.

Why?

Because people work everyday all around the world to generate money.

Why?

Because it's a global market.

Why?

Because people in Asia wake up before people in the Middle East, who wake up before people in the Europe, who wake up before people in the United States. 

Why?

Because the world turns round and round and the sun comes up at different times, so they all start work at different times.

Why?

Because it's on an axis, so that's why all their markets depend upon one another. 

Why?

Because it's a 24 hour a day, 7 day a week type of thing.

Why?

I'm not sure, that's just the way God wants it to be.

Why?

I have no idea.

Why?

Because that's just the way it is, little man, that's just the way it is.

Alright, so maybe I got a little carried away there with the whole trying to explain to my two-year-old why we won't see the trash truck today, but hey, after that crazy conversation I couldn't help but just sit there and laugh. It's all just so funny and sweet, and always ends in,

"I'm not sure, Carts, that's just the way God wants it to be."

It sort of makes you think about the most basic things in life, and how truly, that's just the way God wants it, even though explaining global markets is far from the simple things in life.

Anyway, hilarious I tell you, hilarious.

:)

In which critiques are made

Alright, so I'm usually not one to sit here and spew pop culture knowledge since I'm more often than not behind the curve, but man, these two topics must be touched upon:

{1}

The Great Gatsby is coming out soon!

Oh my gosh, I'm so excited.

See here's the deal: I didn't even know about the making of it until I read it on someone else's blog, but now I'm creepily obsessed. The dude who is directing it is the same guy who did Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge, both of which I hated at first but now have permanently saved on my DVR and rewatch frequently. Anyway, most importantly, LEO is playing Gatsby. LEO is playing GATSBY. Oh, man. Thinking of Mr. Titanic in his dapper suits and being all introverted kind of makes me freak out a little bit. Just a little bit. Talk about GNO type of movie. Well, Chad loves that book, but something tells me he won't share in my enthusiasm when it comes to Leo's cigar smoking wealthiness. We shall see, though.

{2}

Robert Pattinson as a possible Finnick in Catching Fire.

Y'all, no.

I don't want this. Today I got one of those annoying email alerts from Fandango telling me to purchase MORE movie tickets {why do they tell me that everyday? How many movies are out there, anyway?}, but this one was different. In the subject line it read, "Robert Pattinson casted in Catching Fire?" My heart dropped immediately because the only role which I'm actively trying to research is the one of Finnick, who is supposed to be this sexy champion beast from a few Games ago. Anyway, in my head it's totally Zac Efron circa Hairspray because he's buff, athletic AND has bright BLUE EYES! Finnick has blue eyes in the book, and I don't think I can take another non-blatantly-blue-eyed actor being casted in a blue eyed part, even though I know Rob has blueys, they're just not potent enough {see: Peeta!}. I just don't want Edward's self-loathing air around Finnick! It must not be! Anyway, we shall see, we shall see.

{Edward: yes. Finnick: no.}

{Finnick: heck to the yes!}

So there I was as a crazed 14-year-old.

That will be it for awhile on this matter.

Brown and blue: did this really happen?

Y'all, I think we did it. IT. Created the impossible. The snazziest. The coolest. The rarest.

I think we got ourselves a brown haired, BLUE eyed baby girl!

Seriously, beyond awesome. 

Okay, so here's some background:

Chad has always talked about how brown hair, blue eyed mixes are his favorite of all time. The combination of the two just blows his mind! So much so that there were a few times there where I would give him a little whack and say something along the lines of, "Alright man, we all know how much you just LOVE the whole brown hair, blue eye action! We got it, I say!" 

But when it comes to the whole gene pool thing, the odds are slightly against us. Well, the bro-in-law has blue eyes, and I have two uncles who were blessed in the orb department, but with my hazels and Chadly's whole half Mexicano thing, we just didn't see that happening.

Anyway, day 1 of Kota's life, Chad was holding her in the hospital when he looked at me with crazy intensity and said, "OH MY GOSH, BABE, did we just have a brown hair, blue eyed baby?!" 

To which I just laughed and said, "Oh, mi amore, all babies have blue-ish eyes, remember Carter?"

"Oh yeah, that's right." 

But listen here: even though you really can't tell in that there picture, we only have a mere 30-ish days until she hits the six month mark and that's when it will be set in stone! Baby girl's eyes are still blue, with a super thick, light ring around her pupils! I can't believe it! Anyway, by writing this out I'm probably jinxing the whole thing, but holy moly! It must be documented.

Anyway, we shall see, but I will tell you this much: I'm pretty positive there's no humanly way Chad will be able to do anything but give in to every whim of a precious beyond precious brown hair, blue eyed little missy!

:)

Adventures in bathing suit shopping

Well, in our stupid move I packed away my fabulous bathing suit. What the hell, NICOLE? Last summer I had done the impossible: found a cute-but-not-too-crazy-revealing-bikini-because-moms-have-no-business-wearing-near-thongs-out-on-the-pool-deck, and now it is gone. GONE, amongst our couch and other doo-dads in the ole' pod. 

So to Target I went yesterday to repair my error in judgement because Chadly had gotten the jacuzzi working, and I couldn't just sit out for that good time.

Anyway, here is how it went:

First stop, Target, of course! I've shopped for bathing suits from here for a good 10 years, and guess what?! This year there's NOTHING. Nada. Zip. Maybe I'm too late for all the cute cuts? Oh man. Think about this: hideous parachute bottoms with decent tops. What the heck? That's not cool, Target! Don't tease us with tops and force us into boxer shorts on the bottom! Anyway, in the middle of my frustration I texted my sister to ask her where the heck else one would shop for a good suit.

"Tilly's? I have no idea."

{She's also a mum...I'm gathering that bathing suit shopping isn't exactly us mothers' collective favorite thing to shop for. See: baby girl clothes.}

Okay, well it's probably been a good 12 years since I've stepped foot into that place, but hey! There was one right across the parking lot, so why not? I decided to give it a whirl.

Holy moly. Can we say, "SPRING BREAK 2012" while waving our rock-on hands up in the air while we just don't care? I had clearly stepped into the land of the young, the home of the tequila shot. I'm about two kids too late on that trend.

So, onward and upward it was, I thought.

After making a straight bee-line for the door, leaving the raucous music and midriff baring teenagers behind, I took a good look around and saw my favorite: TJ Maxx.

Woohoo!

So off I went and found myself a precious beyond precious bathing suit, which is both flattering and not too over-the-top. Just my style.

Here's the moral of the story: matronly cut bottoms from Target and ridiculous fringe-baring Jenna Jameson style tops from Tilly's just ain't the thangs second time mama's want to be experimenting with, particularly with bad overhead lighting. Doesn't do a gal any favors, you see? So do your due diligence before stepping out of the house with every intent to purchase a good ole' fashioned suit, to avoid such situations and to come out on top in the world of postpartum bikini buying!

{I'm still in the process of figuring out this whole awesome Mac thing, so not pictures as of right now! Boo!}

My left arm and it's buddy

So my babe is attached my hip in the most literal sense. 

I have completely mastered the art of right-hand-only typing, loading and unloading the dishwasher with the perfect tilt and getting Carter's shirts on and off sans lefty.

And you know what? I totally love it. I know that it's not exactly the healthiest thing on earth for that whole independent child thing, but hey. What can I say? I'm self-indulgent these days.

One thing's for sure: this totally stems back to the hospital days. First of all, our hospital got rid of the nursery, so she was in our room the entire time, and I'm telling you, girlfriend knew when I was not around {they had to try three times to do her hearing test because she would immediately burst into tears as they wheeled her away}. Once we came home, it obvious that she could sense when alone, so in order for her to fall asleep {and stay that way}, there I was, always a few feet away. 

Anyway, I used to roll my eyes at women like this, but alas, I have become one. It's just more thing I can tack up to the look-how-different-my-two-babies-are-from-one-another board. Carter was always relaxed just lying there on his back as I did the laundry, Kota is not. Carter would cry himself to sleep within a matter of minutes, Kota makes me feel guilty for a great deal more minutes. Maybe because Carter is a boy and subconsciously I see him as being more independent? Therefore I felt less like I needed to protect him from crying, even though I don't like the thought that I may have a double standard? I don't even know if that makes sense, since I keep envisioning Kota as this total BA doctor or lawyer someday {Hi, I'm one of those parents}.

But anyway, since the bambinos are asleep and I'm feeling list-like, here are the pros and cons to holding your baby all the time:

Pro: you get to hold a happy baby all the time.

Con: you are holding a happy baby all the time.

Pro: you're the only one who can meet baby's needs.

Con: you're the only one who can meet baby's needs.

Pro: you feel like you have a secret language with your baby.

Con: your husband is apparently left out of secret language {hello, Mother's Day guilt fest sleeping in session}.

Pro: you feel ultra bonded to baby.

Con: babysitting baby I would imagine would not be enjoyable.

Sigh. Anyway, I'm just glad that the source of her frustration was not from breast feeding after all, since after a recent post, I got an email from an awesome beyond all awesome lactation consultant! Wasn't that so sweet! She put my mind at ease, and I couldn't be more appreciative!

Woohooo! 

Eating and feeding

For some time now my life has completely consisted of food.

Food, food, food, food, food, food, food.

So much so that I'm sick of eating. Every two hours I'm literally stuffing my face with the most caloric thing I can find in the fridge so that way I will produce enough, and it's getting mighty old around these parts.

So here's the deal: breast feeding this little lady is just nuts!

It's totally different from Carter {with whom I effortlessly fed and pumped sometimes two bottles a day!}, and after talking to a few different second-time mamas, I think that's just the MO. Take the other day for example. I was standing in line at Starbucks chatting with a lady friend, and she started telling me about how she didn't think her milk was satisfying her little guy who is now 7 months old, which was funny because I had just been talking to Chad about that same conundrum. Just a few hours later while at Target, I ran into another mommy friend who told me her little bambino eats every other second and is always hungry in between feedings, much like how Kota is! What the heck?

Okay, so here is what's been going on {she says guiltily}: 

My mom watches the babes for a few hours on Mondays when I head off to work, and as of a few weeks ago, she started telling me that she thinks Kota is not satisfied. At first I thought thoughts like, "What the heck, mother? She is more than satisfied after eating a combined 10 oz.'s over a 4 hour span! She's just fussy." But then Chad started asking me if it was about that time to start formula, to which I defensively answered, "Heavens de-betsies, NO! I'm going to go until 6 months and then I'll think about doing that... I'll think about it." 

But here's the thing, I feed her ALL THE TIME. Anytime she's tired of lying on her back? Let's eat. Sick of being bounced on my knee? Let's eat. Over walking around? Let's eat. All because if I don't feed her there's no chilling out, and now that we have the two of them, that's just not an option if we want to get through the day unscathed.  So the problem is not the amount of production, it's the quality of the milk, I think. Maybe I'm just burning more calories because I'm chasing after Carts? I don't know!

Anyway, the thought that I may be acting based upon selfish feelings has occurred to me. I mean, it's not like the world is going to end if I start formula, but I'm just not READY! 

I'm being the operative word there.

We shall see.

But just for fun, let me tell you what I ate yesterday, and yes, this is for real.

7:30 am: humongous bowl of oatmeal and banana

10:30 am: McDonald's coffee, toast with a generous amount of jam, two scrambled eggs

12:00 pm: two leftover enchiladas

2:00 pm: full glass of milk with a slice of french silk pie

3:30 pm: string cheese

4:30 pm: dark chocolate Ensure protein drink

7:00 pm: Chick-Fil-A spicy chicken sandwich {crispy, mind you}

9:30 pm: small glass of milk, Half Baked bowl of ice cream

I'm literally tired of eating sweets and other rich foods. Man oh man. At least it's all going to the breast feeding cause, because if this was effecting the ole' waist band, there would be problems up in here.

Sheesh kapeesh.

Happy Mothers Day

Well, here it goes! My name is Chad and I am Nicole's husband.

First I would like to tell everyone a little about my wonderful wife from an outsiders point of few. She is the best mom in the world. Between running the kids to the pool, her mom's house (babysitting), and working herself she still seems to be the most beautiful wife a guy could ask for!

This Mother's day I thought instead of getting her a card, I should write a blog post on her blog! This way instead of her just reading the card to herself, I can share my love for her to the world.

Carter says "I love my mom" :)

Miss Dakota Lee is happy eyed and loving every inch of Nicole. 

Ok, so what I want to say is simple:

  

Nicole, I love you. 

You are my best friend. 

Everyday I find someway to fall in love with you more and more. 

You give me motivation, love, and your heart. 

I have stolen you from the world and I apologize.

3 years down and a lifetime waiting.

There is no one else I would rather spend my life with.

Happy Mothers Day.

P.S. This laptop I am writing all of this on is yours.

Walking

Back in the ole' first-pregnancy days, I walked like a fiend. Every single day I hit the pavement and developed some damn fine muscle tone-age in those legs of mine, if I do say so myself. But guess what? Since I would have rather set myself on fire than take a lovely stroll when I was pregnant with Kota, that tone-age has gone a-hidin', forcing me to drag Chad along with me on these walks and let me tell you, I quite enjoy it. 

Random, eh?

Well I just thought about it because he's so hilarious when it comes to these here walks. I'll say,

"ALRIGHT babe! Ready for our walk?!"

{Much like the most annoyingly perky person you know},

to which he'll give me this look.

The look. 

The look that says,

Come on babe...Nooooo....Noooo don't make me!

To which I always respond,
"Come on! You love these things! We are going! Here are your shoes! Let's GO!"

And then we'll get out in the sunshine and WITHOUT FAIL, he will look at me and say,

"You know, I really like these walks. They're always so nice."

Yes, I know babe. They're always so nice because you get my motivational chatter along the way which always  returns to the same three questions:

1. So, where do you want to go on our next major vacation?

2. So, are you still loving work, and what's the newest?

and, 

3. When Kota starts dating, are we going to ask Carter to give us an entire background check on each potential suitor?

All of which I know the answers to, but hey! It's just how we do. Every single time :)

Us right now

Sheesh kapeesh...Can we say "hiatus?"

Man, oh man. It's been quite a wild ride around here as of late, and I'm even typing this as Chad is wrestling Carter into a late afternoon nap and Kota is stirring in her car seat, bound to wake up from the sounds of me typing. 

Anyway, here's the deal with us C's:

- We just left our precious, beautiful, fabulous, wonderful little penthouse {2nd floor, hey hey!} apartment in Irvine for bigger and better things: crashing at the in-laws until we find a little piece of real estate we can actually own. So yes, living with a set of the parentals isn't exactly the sexiest thing on earth, but we're glad for the option {...and the fact that we don't have to pay the now OUTRAGEOUSLY high Orange County rent since jumping into another lease would make no sense. Hello, overrated apartment complexes built in none other than the roaring 20's with leaky roofs and popcorn ceilings! No thank you.}

- Chad has a blessed 3 weeks left until the semester is OVER! {Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia! - Sound of Music style.} This fact is always much welcomed, and lets just keep our fingers and toes crossed that all goes swimmingly during these last few classes.

- I realized that I rely on our families quite a lot. Not that this thought was ever lost on me before, but adding Kota into the mix has really shown me that it's actually quite a fabulous thing to have family members close by.

- Moving is such a damn hassle. Seriously, outrageous. Next time we move {well, the move after leaving these here rooms in the Cisneros home}, we are just going to straight up hire some professionals. Maybe I'll box a few things up on my own...Maybe...But one things for darn sure: there will be NO loading any sort of vehicle with our belongings from THIS lady. Nuh-uh. Never again.

- I'm considering going to work and utilizing the skills I actually went to school for. Now that I've had the two bambinos and I know that if I leave them for a bit the world won't fall apart, I'm quite curious. Chad and I have been talking about it, and thanks to those wonderful family members, it actually might be something that may happen. We shall see. Anyway, wouldn't that be awesome in the ole' pocketbook arena? Can we say "European vacations?" {Twice a year?...Okay, that's just me being crazy, but that would be amaze. Who wants to convince Chad with me?}

Anyway, I need to unpack the boxes taking up floor space in our wing of the house and continue to repeat to myself these words exactly:

Just until we make the purchase, just until we make the purchase, just until we make the purchase...

Talk to you soon!