iGot iPhone

Sorry for the painfully lame title, but I joined the ranks of most and got an iPhone a few weeks ago.

Here's a useful tip - don't go to Best Buy on a Sunday when you've had one too many cocktails the night before. There's nothing like spending 90 minutes with a 20 year old Best Buy Phone Specialist when your head is pounding and you just want to lay down.

Well, now I know what all of the fuss is about. I seriously dig this little devise but do not want to come attached to it (read: iPhones are not to be used during meetings, dinners or drinks). 

Since then, I've been spending a bit too much time on Society 6 (a spot to buy prints, apparel and more from real artists) and I'm loving these cases (but not the price tag): 

Let's All Go and Have Breakfast

DG Aztec No.1

Fischer Fox

I've downloaded a few normal apps including Words with Friends (I'm terrible),
Instagram, Pinterest and Pandora - but I'd love to know - what are you "must have apps"? Randomly fun? Randomly useful? 

Giada.

Earlier this month my girlfriends and I went to the Riverside Theater to see Giada De Laurentiis (that beautiful Italian woman with a large head on the Food Network).

I love Giada for her clean, impeccable style. Her food is accessible and real. It's healthy but the girl likes to indulge. You (that would be you, Ticketmaster) had me at "ticket comes with a signed cookbook."

Although I dig Giada, her show isn't too personal, so I settled in for a night of food tips, how-to-be-more-Giaday tips and of course, some friendship-love time with my ladies.

Giada was great. The interviewer was so-so. She wouldn't let the conversation run naturally. One minute they were discussing her personal chef gig for Ron Howard and the next question would focus around her love of chocolate ('Scuse me, I'd like to hear some embarrassing celebrity stories please!).

Lack of interview skills aside, I walked away with a few nuggets of wisdom - most of them non-food related:

• Her cookbooks are snapshots into her life. In the beginning of her career, it was just her and her husband (her Anthropologie designer husband). She had the luxury of time to shop at specialty stores and cook elaborate dinners. Now, after a long work day, she's whipping up quick meals her whole family will enjoy.
  
  I know I'm not alone when I say that I related to this - big time. Although, at this point, Ingrid pretty much eats anything. As I listened to her discuss the differences pre and post baby - I longed for those days of creating elaborate dinners. To cook loudly in the kitchen. Run to the store if I forgot anything. And linger at the farmer's market instead of just barreling through and hoping for the best.
  
  That said, I'm incredibly excited to invite Ingrid into the kitchen and can't wait to teach her the joys of cooking and baking. I'm also not excited about the finicky toddler years (does every kid go through this?).This inspired me to cook a real meal on Saturday. A real meal that wasn't a pain, but did require time and effort - Ricotta Gnocchi (yum!) and Orange-Glazed Pork (great if you have purees on hand - if not, not worth the extra effort).
• I was using extra virgin olive oil incorrectly. Turns out, you're not supposed to heat extra virgin olive oil. Like ever. I knew about saving the "good stuff" for salads and dressings - but you're not actually supposed to heat it. Huh. So, I bought good ol' regular olive oil for cooking (and keep it away from the light and heat!). See, some tips were food related.
• Getting out of your bubble is a good thing. In an indirect way, most of the conversation centered around the successes of stretching yourself and get comfortable with getting uncomfortable. Small stretch: ordering something you normally wouldn't off of the menu. Big stretch: Moving to Paris for culinary school. She recalled her major turning point was attending culinary school in Paris. Being under the watchful eye of her Italian family, she was able to explore the city and really "make it" on her own.
  
  Like everyone else, I have a few items on my mental bucket list that I'd really like to check off - or better yet, experience. They include: becoming a yoga instructor, moving out of Wisconsin, owning some sort of coffee shop/art studio/yoga class space, travel (and then travel some more) and finally - to be a barista.
• She is also the voice of "Paulette," a character on the animated children's show Handy Manny. Hey, it's on her Wikipedia page - so, that's something. 

But seriously, it was a good first-hand account and reminder to get out of the cozy, comfortable bubble - whether it be with your family, location, career or your staple grocery list. I'm not going to make any dramatic declarations and promise something insane - but I do hope to keep working toward some of these "must-do" items.

Because if a beautiful, talented, well-connected Italian woman can be a celebrity chef - I'm betting that I can one day work at Starbucks.  

Accountable.

These mantras make me smirk and I'd like to think they help to give me the motivation to run. The only real mantra that's ever worked for me has been: 

Just Put On Your Shoes and Get Out the Door. 

At 5 (err...6) in the morning, running doesn't sound like fun to me. Sleeping, coffee and donuts sound like fun. But can I just put on shoes and get out the door? Sure. And by the time this happens, running sounds fine and donuts have lost there appeal. And by the time I'm back from a run, donuts sound...ok, donuts still sound good. So what. 

For months, I've struggled with getting into a solid routine and have been putzy with my runs. Why is it so hard to remember that "post workout buzz" when you muster up the mental energy to decide to workout? Why does Storage Wars always win (ugh, I'm so ready for them to replace Dave! Anyone?). 

These sporadic workouts - and the recent discovery of donuts - are making my stack of too-tight jeans start to accumulate dust. I'm so over it.  

Then, a few weeks ago Dan started to run. Granted, we can't run together, but we have a nice little schedule worked out and it's nice to know that for two mornings a week, I'm running. And two mornings a week, he's running. And on the weekends we're running. We don't have to juggle a schedule or talk about Ingrid's naps - we just get up and go. 

This seemingly simple schedule has helped me tremendously and I'm now able to focus and feel somewhat accountable - even though during my runs Dan's sleeping or taking care of Happy Morning Baby Ingrid. Which, if you're wondering, looks like this: 

We even signed up for a race later this month with some friends. I'm sure I'll come in dead last in the group, but I don't care, because I already have more energy and more willpower against donuts, party coffee and late night frozen yogurts. 

What about you - how do you stay consistent in your workout routine? 

Standing.

Last fall Ingrid and I went to the daycare bi-annual potluck for some yummy casseroles, treats and a chance to connect with staff and other parents. During the potluck, I learned that one of the kids went from wobbly-standing to walking during the course of the day. I think you know where I'm going here.

On Sunday Ingrid started to stand.

Drooly shirt, messy floor and all - this is one of my favorite pictures of Ingrid because she is so proud of herself in this moment. 

For about 20 minutes she was squatting, twirling and falling around the living room. Then, she just did it. She just stood up on her own - no props, no helping - and was pumped. 

I understand that she could take her first "real" steps while I'm at work and I'll deal with that when it happens. I'm assuming I'll be disappointed and excited. But for now, I'm cherishing these moments before she can walk and run. 

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One.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind. My favorite kind of whirlwind that involved multiple parties to plan, friends and family to visit and cocktails to be sipped.

All of the whirlwinding took a toll on me yesterday in the form of an annoying head cold/sore throat so I parked it on the couch and watched Gossip Girl between trips to and from the kitchen for juice, medicine and Kleenex.

In a medicated haze, I thought about the cold-hard truth that tomorrow - as in today - Ingrid will be turning one. 

Today, Ingrid is one. Today, I have a one-year-old daughter. 

And I couldn't help reflecting on our lives one year ago - and how different everything is one year later. 

New baby, new role as a mother, new routine, new lack-of-routine, new priorities, new job, new grocery list (seriously, now staples include bananas and whole milk). 

And I'm pleasantly surprised how much is the same. I'm at home in our lovely little apartment, Harper is still bouncy little Harper, Dan is still Dan and my friends and family are wonderfully supportive. I still love all of my loves including brunch, online shopping, vodka grapefruits and yoga. I now just do yoga in my living room. 

The newness has been constant this past year and - as cliche as it is - I can't believe it's already been a year since we welcomed her on April 10. 

Today, we celebrated with Tofu Rice Bowls for dinner, gave Ingrid a bath and read about 14 books.

We did host a birthday party with friends and family last weekend and my favorite part of the day was the cake. When we placed the cupcake in front of her, she just studied the cupcake and started to pick off the sprinkles one by one. She grinned a scrunch-face grin at everyone surrounding her and slowly ate her frosting. 

No one was too impressed by this method as they were all anticipating the face-in-cake routine. But not little Ingrid. As I recounted this to my aunt on the phone later that night, she smartly replied "Well, that's how she wanted to eat her cake." 

And that's one of my favorite things about Ingrid - she's funny, intense, has a sense of humor and a really, really, really long attention span.

I know there will be years of her smashing cake in her face, years of her requesting a certain cake flavor, years where she'd rather not see me or any cake - but for her first birthday, she wanted to pick off her colored sprinkles one by one. And then, when I intervened and smashed that corner of her treat in an effort to "help" - she looked at me as if to say "This is how I want to eat my cake." Then, I slowed down, listened and let her eat it because she's wonderfully sweet that's how she wants to eat her cake.