The start to the holidays and real food.

I can't believe it's already time for Christmas trees and decorations and that Thanksgiving has already come and gone. We had a really nice Thanksgiving, spent pretty equally between mine and Nick's families, and it was actually pretty relaxing and enjoyable even with driving back and forth between houses. I just wish I hadn't gotten a terrible stomach ache so I could've eaten more - of course the one day of the year when all I want to do is completely stuff myself is the day I get the worst stomach ache ever... Luckily it eventually went away and there weren't any trips to the hospital or anything like that, but I was still ashamed that I was only able to put away ONE full plate of food. I will definitely need to make up for it on Christmas.

Of course, once Thanksgiving is over, it's Christmas. Which means it's time to get Christmas trees. (YAY!) This is one of my favorite days of the year, since Christmas-time is my favorite time of the year, and this kicks everything off. We had a lot of fun toting Nora around with us this time, and also found a really perfect tree which is now also decorated and proudly standing in our living room.

To finish off a weekend of fun, we decided to venture into new territory with Nora's expanding diet: peas. We started giving her rice cereal a couple of weeks ago, and since she seems to be loving that and is still extremely interested in everything else she sees everyone eating and drinking, we decided it was time to try something new. Needless to say, she now loves peas too, based on the feeding frenzy we experienced tonight. However, I'm still convinced that this child will devour anything since she seems equally interested in her fingers and anything else that she can get near her mouth, including my face. But fingers are her favorite. I think she only enjoys peas as long as they're accompanied by a side of fingers.

Halloween... a little late.

It was a double-treat of a Halloween this year, with it falling on a Sunday. Halloween party with friends Saturday night, and fun with family and baby on Sunday. I must say it worked out nicely to enjoy the best of both worlds.

We of course waited until the very last minute to figure out costumes to wear to our party on Saturday night, resulting in somewhat unimaginative costumes which were mostly non-identifiable to most. The upside: Nick and I both dressed as our favorite TV heroes: Liz Lemon and Don Draper (me obviously being the former and Nick being the latter… although wouldn’t it have been more fun if it was the other way around? Noted for next year’s last minute costume ideas).

I have to say that I think we did a fairly decent job, although as I said, only a handful of people could actually come close to guessing who we were actually supposed to be… hard to believe, since Nick so CLEARLY is a dead ringer for Jon Hamm, and I am without a doubt just as, or probably even more so, as much of a dork as Liz Lemon. I felt like I could identify with Liz Lemon even more than usual that night, as I realized that the major plusses of this costume were (1) that I could leave my hair in its naturally frizzy state and didn’t need to make any effort to make it look any better, and (2) that this costume, unlike so many typical ‘sexy’ female Halloween costumes, did not require me to shave my legs. Liz would be so proud.

We had some much anticipated grown-up fun at the party, enjoying adult beverages (me, drinking all of mine out of my signature ‘TGS with Tracy Jordan’ coffee mug, and Nick drinking all of his from his authentic 1960s-era glass tumbler, in fine Sterling-Cooper fashion) and acting generally silly with good friends we hadn’t seen much since the arrival of Nora.

I think Nora enjoyed her first Halloween weekend – she got to spend the evening with her two Omas while we were at our Halloween party, and even got to stay up extra late (which wasn’t a bad thing since it meant she slept in extra late the next morning and let mom also sleep in after her evening of enjoying her yummy Mommy beverages out of her mug). She was the most adorable pumpkin for Halloween, and we of course took way too many pictures of her in costume… as well as a few of Dundie in his vampire cape, which he didn’t seem all too fond of.

What's in a name?

So my display name is Kimbers-Krizl.

My husband, upon reading my first entry of my new blog last night (after much prodding by me), asks me... 'Kimbers-Krizl?'

Yes, Kimbers-Krizl. A name given to me by Father Arnold several years ago when I served as an altar server.

He knew my first name was Kimberly, but wasn't as familiar with my last name. 'Who is your family?' he asked me, trying to figure out whose faces he had seen with me in the congregation before this first official meeting. 'My grandparents are the Krizls' I told him. 'Oh, the KRIZLS!' And that was that.

My grandparents have been devoted Catholics all their lives, and have been faithful members of the parish for decades, so it's no wonder that their name rings a familiar bell in the heads of many of the other parishioners and priests. Church is funny that way: there are many 'church families' that my family feels they know, simply due to the fact that we've heard their last name and seen their faces once a week for a few years or in some cases, a few decades. But at the same time, we wouldn't know most of their first names or anything else about them, besides the fact that they go to church. Who knows if they're super nice and volunteer every spare minute to serve hot meals at homeless shelters and pray the rosary together every night... or if they're completely whacked out and horrible people who just happen to get together every Sunday to go to church together in between bank robberies and drug deals... hmm. Maybe that's a part of the experience of attending mass that I never thought about: having faith that the people standing right next to your kid and your purse aren't going to snatch both, run out the door to the waiting get-away car, and send you a ransom note right after brunch.

Hello! My name is...

I'm new to blogging... obviously. This is my first post.

And I think it's a good idea to start off on the right foot, so I'm going to be completely honest here:
I have started a blog out of sheer boredom.

Now, this is not to say that my life is boring, in fact, far from it. Just my job. My utterly, completely, DESPERATELY boring job. To put it plainly and without getting into too much detail, I essentially spend eight hours a day (...make that seven, since I take a full hour for lunch everyday to go home and feed my four-month-old...) at my desk thinking of ways to pass the time. Now, I do have little bits of work now and then that keep me busy for a little while, but that still leaves me with a solid five to six hours of nothing-ness. So I've recently begun reading a number of very entertaining blogs that keep me sane and awake throughout the day, and I started thinking, this morning in fact, 'why can't I do that?' which I'm sure is what every blogger says when they decide to start a blog. Hence, the plethora of mostly-mediocre blogs out there full of ramblings about the uneventful events of everyday life which, let's be honest, only the authors and their mothers probably care about. ...And hence, I suppose, the surprising popularity of obscure 30 Rock references when it comes to naming a blog (which I discovered after five attempts at naming this blog... apparently there are at least five other fans of 30 Rock in the world.). So, to that plethora of mediocrity, I add another. And unless I'm more entertaining than I think I am (which I'm sure I'm not), I will be the only one reading this blog since my mother doesn't know how to use the internet.

Now, as I said, my life is not boring. I have a beautiful baby girl named Nora, who I love to death, and who I'm convinced will grow up to be quite a cheeky little girl. (Please note that I am not British, and therefore have no authority to use this term; however, I've always thought it was a great word and that it captures a quality lacking in its fellow American synonyms. Thank you to Thomas the Tank Engine and Shining Time Station for teaching it to me at such an impressionable young age.)

I also have a wonderful husband, who I've been married to for two years, although we've been together for ten years this month. True story: high school sweethearts and everything. We make each other laugh and have been through a lot together. He's great. And he's a great dad. As a real estate agent, he's able to work from home about 90% of the time, and is therefore a stay-at-home/work-at-home dad for Nora. I'm completely grateful for this and the fact that it saves us from having to deal with daycare, although I must say that I'm a little envious of him getting to spend so much time with her while I'm away at work (obviously very busy and doing Very Important Work Things) as she is definitely turning into a daddy's girl. I also must say that I'm a little worried about what else he may be turning her into... a Braves fan... a Ron Paul supporter... I may need to invest in a nanny cam.

And, we have a crazy dog. He was our first baby. Dundie is a spunky and slightly-terroristic 3 1/2-year-old American Eskimo (or 'Eski' to the dog people... note: he is a 'standard', and not to offend any mini- or toy-Eski owners, but that means he's the normal-looking kind of Eski. Not the kind with the googly-eyes. You know what I mean.).

Now, continuing in the spirit of full disclosure, I feel I need to mention that much of this blog will be written while pumping (as you remember, I have a four-month-old baby). I feel I need to mention this in case any one of you are uncomfortable with the idea of pumping breastmilk... although keep this in mind: I assure you that it is much more awkward and uncomfortable for me... as it only leaves me one free hand for typing. I mean think about how long this entry is. Honestly.