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!

pack it up

We leave 3am Thursday morning for Nashville (heeeeey wedding!), so I decided to become an adult this afternoon and pack. No last minute realizations that the majority of my clothes are dirty, I can only find one of my nude heels, or a cat somehow got zipped up into my luggage. 

So I got the 90's music bumping, pulled out my suitcase, and put on my cowgirl boots for inspiration. About 20 minutes and 53 wardrobe changes later, N'sync was blasting, booty was shaking, ideas were flowing............ and then Hurricane Brit hit.

the beginning....

I can't really explain how or why, but I pulled everything out of our closet with the idea that I would "totally organize this" and "maybe do some spring cleaning AND packing." Then the power tools and pink toolbox made an appearance, there was some dis-assembly and shelving modification.... the chaos spread from the closet to the rest of the poor little bedroom like a sickness. 

Now I'm sitting Indian style in the middle of my floor among a sad wreck of heels, sweaters, work out shorts, hangers, a lawn gnome, and mismatched socks. I honestly don't even know where my suitcase went. I haven't see one of the cats for a few hours. 

It seemed like such a good idea at the time. 

Thanks for getting me so amped up N'sync. This would have never happened if you weren't so ridiculously awesome, old school style.

Ben says I have to have this cleaned up by tonight. We'll see. 

I'm hungry and losing interest faster than...


Anyways, here's a picture of Nicole licking her lips while
I was trying to make her look like a vampire cat. 

xoxo, b  

spring to life

I'm so impatient for spring/summer/fall/anything but winter. It warmed up and almost hit 40 today.......... whomp whomp whooooomp....... Is it too late for seasonal depression? I'm still stuck on the "anger" and "bargaining" stages of winter grief, but as soon as "acceptance" rolls around I want to know that there's a group in a church basement that I can talk to every Thursday. 

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Ben and I had a dinner date at Bar Lou tonight. Totally splurged on dollar burgers. And now my dashing husband is in the bedroom watching some animated movie with Paris and Nicole, because "there is nothing on Netflix." I think he just felt like watching cartoons. Happens to me all the time. Embrace it Benjamin. 

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Wedding in Nashville in just over a week! 

I have to finish altering the top of my dress, because they don't make a Wonderbra able to fix a dress size too big meets a chest size too small. I've looked into it. And as my mom told the sales people at three different store... "Before we fix the dress, let's try and fix her dimensions! [maniacal laugh]" 

 I'm going to go ahead an thank my mom AGAIN for getting all stingy and not passing down those certain genes that would result in a chest area of anything more than a 14 year old boy. 

Thanks mom.

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My grandparents are selling DeCabin in Winter, WI. They accepted an offer and close the end of May. We've been going up there since 1999. It's where Ben and I had our mini honeymoon right after getting hitched. There are literally 2.951 million stories about that place. 

Hmm, I might need that church basement support group sooner than I thought...

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Liars and wine tomorrow night. It's Wednesday tradition with the girls. 

And you don't mess with a tradition that involves wine.

xoxo, b

weekend warrior [part b]

I'm not 100% sure where I left off.... oh well. 

Bachelorette Par-tay in Nashville  

• 5am + coffee + sick Jessica + minimal sleep = 8.5 hour power thru drive to the glorious country capital of the entire freakin' world
• Little black dresses, little tank tops, little hotel room, little party favor pins and "Mrs. Mathews" shot glasses
• Fireball shots + fire-y red lipstick on the "kiss the man" poster = bachelorette pre-gaming
• Bar dancing, booty shaking (I legitimately won a booty shaking contestone night... what?!)
• Big hair, big attitudes, big country accents
• Theme song = Eye of the Tiger. Why? Sometimes magical things like that happen on their own.

And now for the harsh reality: Girls are a gross group when they get together, scream, hug, jump around screaming "I-have-not-seen-you-in-forEVERRR!," and then spend a night or two together in confined spaces. Pillow fights and giggling? More like smeared lipstick, fake eyelashes clinging to life, and no topic frowned upon. But girls already know that. And boys? They should go on pretending. 

Minnesota Bday Bash

mega beer

• This last weekend was a very short trip up to Minneapolis for Bean's birthday. 
• Fancy bacon and chocolate donuts and coffee Saturday morning at Glam Doll Donuts
• Mall of America 6+ hours Saturday afternoon, where I fell in lust with Typo.



B at the Mall of America

• Mall of America also including a fantastic trip through the aquarium where I got to poke and prod water dwelling things. PLUS we took a trip down the underwater aquarium tunnel of awesome which included none other but the apex predator of the seas.... dun nun dun nun... sharks! My tireless educational Shark Week watching on Netflix proves useful yet again.
• German beer hall and one gigantic stein of beer each
• Brianna falling into a 12 foot+ snowbank on our way there... but conquering it on the way home
• Entire backseat of the car to myself on the way home meant that I got to sip my Starbucks coffee drink and knock-off Gatorade and send fat chin Snapchats to all my friends. My lucky, lucky friends. 

Ben in Tampa/Parents on Mexican Cruise/Ben in Boston

• and I was not/am not. Instead, I'm drudging through a Polar Vortex and having dinner with my cats. Because I'm cool like that. 

xoxo, b

NYE MKE 2013-14

Procrastination.

 

 

It lands us in the exact same spot every year at exactly this time..... desperately trying to figure out what to do for New Year's Eve.

 

 

Every year.

 

 

It's not like New Year's is a floating, mysterious holiday, springing out of the shadows within 24 hours of happening screaming "HERE I AM SUCKAS!! HAVE FUN TRYING TO FIGURE OUT AN AWESOME WAY TO REALLY CELEBRATE THIS HUNK OF AULD LANG SYNE (maniacal laugh)"

 

 

Champaign toast this, New Year's Eve.

 

 

I don't even know what auld lang syne means. No one does. It's just a slow song with made up words.

 

So for all purposes listed hereafter, auld lang syne means there are too many parties and my lack of commitment to any of them makes me feel like the soggy fruitloop left behind in the cereal bowl of New Year's Eve parties.

 

 

 I wonder where we will end up. I'm pretty much ready for anything-- I shaved my legs tonight. And I've got a certain young man on contract to kiss me at midnight. (maniacal laugh)

 

 

Try and stop me now, 2013.

 

 

But I'm done Google-ing MKE NYE shindings for now. There are more important things going on: Shark Week Season 25 is now on Netflix.

 

 

xoxo, b

merry christmas kiddos

I'm going to be honest, I thought about doing a Pinteresty-lovey-dovey-oh-how-adorbs type Christmas card this year. We clean up nice.

Picture it: Snow gently falling as we tenderly embrace along the lake shore. A sweet kiss on the forehead with the city lights twinkling behind us. Holding hands and looking backwards over our shoulders while cheesing for the camera.  Or maybe a smile-worthy, heart warming mishap with a string of lights, tangling us together into a PG-13 kiss.

Then I realized that's silly. We don't skip around town gazing into each other's eyeballs. Well, not all the time.... and besides, that's what everyone else is doing. Which is lame. Because I've walked around and I hardly ever see people striking a traditional Christmas card pose during my day to day activities.

So I present to you, Ben & Brit's real life Christmas card(s):

cats wearing clothes, cell phone, wine, mess.

Merry Christmas :)

fa la la la la

la la la la

xoxo, b

turkey recap

Pre-Turkey Tuesday:

My last day at the jewelry store. Smash made me a pink sash and a glittery pink crown that I wore the majority of the day like a preschool princess. Roughly 1.7 million things went wrong and required me to fix them, so I didn't get much time to just hang out with my coworkers. After the store closed at 7, Smash and Co. popped open a bottle of bubbly and gave my "eugoogly"...which I had jokingly requested. Or not jokingly. After the beautiful eugoogly, we headed to Mexico for dinner and dranks.

I'm horrible, awful, no-good at having things hit me right away. Seriously. Which is part of the reason that I generally don't get too emotional......until a week and a half later when Ben finds me on the couch with a cup of coffee and mascara-face. As a whole, I'm 100% time-consuming and tiring to understand... literally a waltzing contradiction.

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Turkey Time:

Having two families too close to each other makes for filling holidays. Turkey day was no exception. A late lunch turned into dinner at my parent's house, and after wiping the gravy from our faces we were at Ben's side of the family enjoying desserts and falling asleep on the couch.
Unlike last year, no one stood up and announced any life-altering news. 

Also unlike last year, Ben and I did zero Black Friday shopping. Instead, we slept in and I telephoned my mom (who was downstairs) to bring us a couple of coffees in bed. She said no.
In my defense, 1: It worked the last time 2: At least I tried and 3: Brilliant idea, right?

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Saturday & Sunday:

To make the next tidbit make sense, I need to confess that Ben and I are raising spoiled thug cats. Long haired, fluffy, spoiled, social butterfly thugs named Paris and Nicole.

These little thugs stayed home alone for 2 nights while we went home for Thanksgiving. 

When we got home to the apartment Saturday afternoon, we found half eaten cookies all over the kitchen and scattered around the living room floor. The cute ceramic food bowl with the the painted blue script of Tuna Breath was mercilessly thrown in true riot state into the mecca of the chaos. Clumps of long black hair adorned the once cozy home that had- from all accounts- transformed into a gladiator coliseum only hours earlier when the last bit of cat food was nibbled and the undeniable possibility of certain death first crept to attention.

So we fed the monsters, and they fell asleep purring and cuddled up together. Because in all likelihood they are also un-medicated bipolars as well.

And now it's officially time for Christmas!
Which means Christmas music, Christmas decorations, Christmas cats, Christmas everything at all hours of the day and night. Christmas!!

xoxo, b

brit-sit

I had no Brit-sitter this week. 

Which is good, because I've been very busy working two jobs.

And which is bad because I've spent an unhealthy amount of time talking to my cats and growing extremely accustomed to their strange behavior. Trying to climb on my back while I'm sitting upright and typing, trying to climb on my lap while I'm using the.... ahem ladies room, eating a cardboard box for the hell of it, punching me in the face in the morning because they are channeling Mike Tyson, and general clingy-ness, snoring like dogs, purring all.the.time., and yip-yapping are 100% normal to me now. Sure, it was upwards of 86% normal to me before, but those monsters really beefed up their crazy and are dedicated to making me feel like a spazzy old cat lady..... and it's working.

No Brit-sitter is also bad because there is no one to stop me from having a package of bacon, 2 apples, miscellaneous Halloween candy, and a hefty portion of wine for dinner. I'm thinking Ben would not be too happy with me, since he has vocalized concerns over my odds of making it to 30............but I can rationalize just about anything. Take the above mentioned fantastic dinner for example: Meat, good. Period. Apples=fruit=good. Candy=chocolate=derived from a plant=plants=good. Wine=grapes=fruit with antioxidants=good. Throw "antioxidants" into any food-related nonsense sentence and it's like a free pass. 

Ya know what, I did have a Brit-sitter tonight by the name of Marshall's Store. Which means someone has a new pair of boots, among other things.

Ya win some and ya lose some. 

Ben's home tomorrow, and done traveling until February or something like that. Whoot whoooooot

xoxo, b

packers vs browns

I love Packer games. I love being in Green Bay on game day.

cousins

We went to the Packers vs. Browns game this last weekend, and had a wonderful little tailgate group. Ben, Jessica, Kor, J, Danny, Sam, Bart, Heather, Arik... it was fun to grill out, drink from German beer steins, and play bag toss in our Packer gear. And of course, there were game tutu's. I feel like that should go without saying.

the ladies

Kor and J had nosebleed seats (if there is such a thing at Lambeau, but it's fine because J is foolishly a Browns fan), and Ben scored us seats in section 138, row 16...... that's 16 rows up smack-dab in the middle of the Packer end zone kiddos. Makes me tear up a little even now.

tutus!

xoxo, b

my party has a promo trailer

Our Halloween barn party-- Mischief & Mayhem-- has its own promo trailer:   Video

Because I can't think of any reason that a holiday party wouldn't have a promotional video distributed three weeks prior to the event. Seriously.

Invite only.

xoxo, b

2 years & unsolicited advice

I had a vivid revelation of awesomeness the other day. In order to reflect upon our last two years of marriage, I thought Ben and I should answer similar open ended questions concerning stuff like what's changed, what's the same, where do you see us in 5 years, why isn't there any good beer left in the fridge, and what's for dinner.... but I digress.  

So I cornered him. Started asking him questions. And he, like a wild animal, tried to escape. My revelation of awesomeness was going nowhere, and I was forced to shut it down after there was way too much interest in describing in detail the only thing he believes to have changed in the last two years: that I've farted in front of him. There were references to Nazi gas chambers, dying beasts, and the end of days before he finally concluded, gave a satisfied smile and nod, and shut his mouth.

First off, I'm a trophy wife wanna-be, I don't fart. That's something boys do. 

And second, I don't fart. 

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So in lieu of my vivid revelation of awesomeness questionnaire, 

here are my little bits of unsolicited advice/knowledge nuggets on the matter:

Your husband will be the single most annoying person in your life. He throws his dirty socks at the cats. He is addicted to checking sport updates and stock prices on his smart phone. He forgets to put leftovers in the fridge. He gets moody when he is having what I can only assume is a man-period. He still has not figured out how to work the laundry hamper, despite intense one-on-one training sessions with the Rocky theme song playing in the background. He strolls into the bathroom and asks what you're doing when you're trying to use the toilet or shave your legs in the shower because he doesn't fully understand privacy. And sometimes he flat out disagrees with you about severely important things like "what should we do tonight?" But what sets the husband apart from any other run-of-the-mill annoying roommate? It's that you care way too much about his opinion and your opinion matching up. You want him to see things the way you do. Exactly. You want him to think the way you do. Exactly. You can't give the generic "whatever I could care less what you think" response to him and de-friend him on Facebook because you do care what he thinks, and he lives with you. He's an individual with his own opinions and thought process... which is so annoying. 

Your husband will be the single most amazing person in your life. He wakes you up with breakfast in bed most Sundays. He swaps back rubs with you before falling asleep at night. He's funny and spazzy and doesn't mind that you sing off-key during car concerts. He let's you do your own weird thing, and encourages you to be your awkward self. He takes you to the zoo, even though you've gone at least one gagillion times already. He lets you have the bigger piece of steak or eat more of the cookie chunks from container of ice cream. He makes excuses to drive 30 minutes with you to your job on the weekend so that at the very least you can see each other for the hour worth of driving there and back. He just gets you, even when you don't get yourself. As a self-proclaimed commitment phobic person (it took 7 or 8 years before I power-walked down the aisle), my Oprah ah-ha moment was when I realized that yeah, I could live without him... But I didn't want to. And even though I allegedly hyperventilated and had to take a moment to sit (not run, even though there were bets placed) before my I-do's, that 24 hour period of time is a drip in the leaky faucet of life. A very expensive drip. 

And everyday since then has been a bit of an adventure. 

xoxo, b

trophy wife

I'm under the impression that I should be a trophy wife.

I'll rock my hot pink heels and a dress and sashay around department stores and go out for lunch and wear too much perfume and develop a fake laugh so I can say things like "daaaaaarrrrling, this afternoon mojito is absolutely faaaaaabulous!" Then I'll twirl around and waltz home where I will pat my fluffy kitties on their fluffy heads and make a three course dinner. Soon, Ben will burst through the door, set down his briefcase and in a very deep voice exclaim, "Honey! I'm home!" He would then immediately pick me up, twirl me around, and give me a passionate kiss on the lips. Obviously, I would be drinking wine by this point in the evening. He would then compliment me until I beg him to stop because dinner is getting cold.

 

 

In immediate hindsight of the directly above mentioned story, there's no way in Hades that I could be a trophy wife:

 

 

- I can only wear my heels for short periods of time. If I sashay, my feet pay. Maybe I could be a barefoot/flip flop wearing trophy wife?

 

- I have not met a department store that I have not felt overwhelmed and/or lost in. Literally lost. It's like a black hole maze of different designers and there is no way to safely escape in a timely manner. It's like ADHD materialized.

 

- I could do lunch. I like lunch that other people make for me.

 

- Fake laughing makes me feel like I have internal bleeding. Super annoying, internal bleeding.

 

- Not a fan of mojitos. Do trophy wives drink beer and like to BBQ? Is that a thing?

 

- I do enjoy a good twirling about... especially in a sundress. That part can stay. I'd have to bring my A-game for leg shaving on a regular basis.

 

- Our fluffy kitties are experiencing their teenage angst years. They've really made a name for themselves as the apex predators of this apartment. They are spazzy, destructive monsters. Sitting pretty for a pat on the head is not something I imagine happening in the foreseeable future.

 

- When Ben comes home, he does give me a hug and kiss. There is no picking up and twirl around hug and kiss though. This must change immediately.

 

- I need more not-cheap wine. Or craft beer. Again, can a trophy wife drink beer right from the bottle? Or is it strictly a swirl your wine type deal?

 

-And the final reason, I require a variety of multiple activities to fill my day. Otherwise, I come up with "great ideas" that I try and execute myself. Past examples have included dying my hair dark brown, rearranging the entire apartment, ripping apart our closet and putting it back together, chopping some bangs, impromptu painting, highlighting my hair and the middle of the cat's forehead, cooking disasters, trying to give the cats a bath, organizing our storage locker, Pinterest DIY projects, and donating things before Ben finds out they're missing.

 

 

It's a work in progress. Time for some imitation crab and fruit juice.

 

Trophy wife out.

 

 

xoxo, b

mke fireworks

Wednesday night, Jessica, Ben and I headed down to the lakefront to watch the USBank fireworks. We threaded our way through the wads of flag tank tops, fried cheese curds, and fat kids waving glow sticks until we reached the breakwater rocks near Discovery World. Once there, we laid stake to a couple flat rocks right at the water's edge. It was literally the perfect spot. You could not get any closer to the show. We cracked open a cold one, leaned back, and got ready for what has always been an awesome show.

And the first 4 minutes that we saw were great.

Then the foggy night and firework smoke mix started creeping in, and before you knew it there were only loud bangs and colorful clouds. It was so sad that it was hilarious.

Ben had brought along a few sparklers, and decided that this was as good as any time to light a couple off. The three little boys next to him got super excited, and asked if they could have a sparkler, too. Ben, being the nice boy that he is, gave them each a sparkler. The little boys lit them off and came back to ask for another. Ben handed them a package of six. The little boys lit them off.

Then one of those snotty nosed little brats walked over to Ben, snapped his fingers and whistled for more.

Jessica, who until now had been laughing hysterically at the firework show mishap, basically choked on her beer and yelled "are you serious?!! Where are your manners!?" At the same time this was happening, I was retrieving my jaw from the ground and exclaiming "ooh hell no!! Benjamin you will not give these boys any more if this is how they behave!!" That naughty little boy realized he had acted like a 10 year old jackass, gave Ben some puppy dog eyes and followed up with a "Excuse me mister, may we please have some more sparklers? We are really enjoying them."

Ben gave them more sparklers.

The moral of the story is, Ben is apparently the good cop and I swear at children.

xoxo, b

summerfest 2013

I happened upon Summerfest 2013 on Saturday, and a little country concert performed by Thomas Rhett, Jake Owen, and Jason Aldean.

And it was fantastic.

Once the concert was over, we left the Marcus amphitheater and headed towards the chaos that was an overcrowded Summerfest grounds. The original game plan was that Ben was going to pick us up or we would cab it back to my place. Well Ben was zonked out and there were no cabs since hello this is Milwaukee and all 27 cabs were occupied-o by the time everyone and their aunt were busy leaving. So we walked to my apartment. MapQuest tells me it is approximately 2.6 miles along the river walk. I believe it.

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 Fireworks tomorrow night in Milwaukee for the Fourth of July.


'Merica!

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Three years ago, on July 5th (because he was told holidays & birthdays were not allowed),
 Ben asked me to marry him. So sweet.


However, I just want to take the time to reiterate the fact that Jessica and I had spent the entirety of July 4th sitting on a front porch wearing flannel, sipping sweet tea and lemonade from mason jars, listening to country music, and trying to play a guitar that was missing a few strings. Ben witnessed all of the above, and still decided to see what I was doing for the remainder of my days.


Soo yeah.


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Paris ate an ibuprofen this weekend. I think she was trying to dull the pain from earlier when Nicole slammed her head against the wall. She must have been riffling through my purse looking for cash or something, because I know she has not mastered the kitty-proof top on the ibuprofen bottle, and there were a couple floating around at the bottom of my bag. Anyways, she threw it up and she's still alive.

Which makes it another successful day in the life of Paris and Nicole.


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xoxo, b

Ooh baby baby

I'm an aunt. Ben's an uncle. Levi is adorable. We drove up to Neenah, WI through some pretty nasty storms to meet the little dude. I think Levi gave Ben baby brain. I'm going to have to shut that down; it's not in the 5 year plan (that I just made up). 

But to clarify with an example: Paris partied too hard the other day and threw up. Ben kindly let me know that he would not be cleaning up the vomit, but would be going directly to the root of the problem and throwing both kitties in the river.** Yeeeaaahh.......noooo. 

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Speak of the devil, Ben got a job working in DOWNTOWN MILWAUKEE. He starts July 8th. Last night, we figured it would be awesome to see how long it would take him to sashay from our downtown Milwaukee apartment to his schmancy, new downtown Milwaukee workplace. Walk time = 20 minutes. His current drive time = 1+ hour, toll booths, and crossing the state line. 

After making it to his new workplace, we just kept walking like a couple of goonies for the next 2 hours. We hit Northwestern Mutual, headed to the lakefront and walked from the Art Museum all the way down to Bradford Beach, then down North Avenue where we stopped for pizza and finally back home near Lakefront Brewery. 

To my feet who endured this all in floppy flops-- I'm sorry. 

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xoxo, b

**For the record, Ben cleaned up Paris' party mess, and both cats still happily reside indoors.