Baby, Baby, Baby

We're having a baby.

A tiny person. A mini-me. A little minion.

It only seems fitting that our B & Me blog has a baby, too:

b-and-me.weebly.com

Here's to the next adventure!

xoxo, b & ben

Since... MAY!?

We've been on Go Mode since.... well apparently since May and the first hints of summer.

Since then, we had a Ben&B trip to Vegas.... where it actually ended up raining for a good portion of the trip. In the desert. We had a pretty wicked awesome corner suite room at the Hard Rock, with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the center pool on 2 of the 4 walls. Ben flew in from Wherever, USA that he had a work trip the week prior, and I managed to get myself from MKE to LAS in one piece. Because Ben is amazing sometimes, he went out and bought an array of snacks, champagne and orange juice, wine, vodka, red bulls, and waters to stock up our room before I even got there. We had way too much fun at the pool (on the nice day.5), playing goofy slots, hitting up the blackjack tables, and walking the Strip.

So obviously, we went back in about a month's time. Hello Hard Rock Hotel, you sexy beast. The second go-round was for Ben's birthday, so we ended up going right over Labor Day weekend. There was a little snafu with not getting the corner suite again, so we stayed one night in a standard room and were told we would move in the morning. Morning came, we fueled ourselves with mimosas, and headed to the pool to wait for the call that at our new room was ready. Long story short, when we grabbed all our stuff and dumped it in the new room, our wedding bands were nowhere to be found. Ben went back to the old room to look around, and the nervous Nelly maid assured him that she hadn't seen anything................................................this brings me to a dark place. No additional comments.

Anywho, we spent the majority of this trip outside by the pool. We played swim up blackjack, lounged in the sun and sun, and went to the Jason Derulo pool party concert. It was while we were poolside that I found out my friends Kor&J were already on their flight headed to Vegas. And then Ben's cousin Jennifer from Phoenix texted and said she also was in Vegas for the weekend. What are the beautiful odds?! We ended up meeting up and spent a night out together causing a general ruckus.



The week before the second Vegas trip, I surprised Ben with family and friends at our apartment for his 29th birthday. His high school friend/best man Dan stopped by as the official distractor, and took Ben out on a brewery tour and to Potowatomi for lunch while everyone gathered. If you know anything about me, I'm :HORRIBLE at keeping secrets from Ben. I get too excited to share things with him, and when I do keep my mouth shut, he can pick up on my even more awkward attempts at being smooth and nonchalant. The surprise went off without a hitch, and the second surprise-- a pontoon boat for the evening-- went over great as well.

But more catch up later... time for work!

just be cool

An average of 17 times every 8 minutes, I think to myself "Why can't you just be cool, dude?"

Which is not cool in and of itself because I'm not a surfer dude... I'm a trophy wife in training. And if I can't even get that part of the thought right, then what hope is there for actually coolness? Nonetheless, this nagging little nugget has skipped across my mind. Usually after the fact.

Examples:

• Forgetting to switch over to windshield washing fluid that won't freeze. It's December in Wisconsin, I know better. Every time I pull over and start scooping snow onto all over my dirty windshield, I think about all the cool kids driving past me on their way to work in their stunna shades listening to indie-rock music while wearing pencil skirts and heels because the cool kids shave their legs regularly and don't forget to brush their teeth. The cool kids aren't standing on the on-ramp with a jug of half-frozen washer fluid, dumping it directly onto the windshield, trying to make sure they remove all the highway gunk. That's why some inventive cool kid designed no-freeze washer fluid to use with a simple flick of a switch while driving. So cool.

• Cool kids don't get caught belting out all the words to Avril Lavigne's Sk8er Boi or Seal's Kiss From A Rose while weaving through rush hour traffic. You're in a box on wheels with windows. Or, oh-em-gee, Aerosmith's I Don't Want to Miss a Thing. And cool kids definitely don't get distracted during the middle of a blog post and have a solid rock-ballad-love-song-breakdown-belt-out-concert in their living room with two cats named after socialites popular in late 20__-something and have their husband walk in and silently judge them. It's not like he's that cool either.

• Cool kids look cool at the gym. Instead of weird noodly-arms named "Fettuccine" and "Linguine," they have muscles by the names of "Butch" and "Slasher" or whatever cool kids say nowadays. And they certainly don't put on a sports bra and instantly turn into what looks like a 13 year old boy who thought it would be funny to try on his big sister's training bra. No sirree. 

• Laugh-snorting. Cool kids don't do that.

• Getting stuck in clothing-- not something cool kiddo's are familiar with. Skinny jeans stuck around your ankles in a fitting room? Bra stuck in your hair in your bedroom? T-shirt pinning your arms above your head while trying to shimmy out of your shorts and top at the swimming pool? "Absolute madness!" yell the cool kids of the world in unison.

Maybe one day I'll be smooth. I'll be suave. I'll be dripping with cool. I'll saunter into the party with a cane and a top hat tilted to one side, point and wink at the bartender and have three or four butlers with trays of champagne flutes instantly circle around me while singing a barbershop quartet-styled song about how cool I am. I haven't worked out the details yet, but stay tuned.

xoxo, b