Happy New Year, Baby!

I know I've been completely MIA since before Thanksgiving. Two reasons:

1) Our POS computer from 2004 decided to crap out on us and we've been struggling to save and recover things before it completely explodes; and

2) I've been suffering from a major baby hangover all day and night. That's right - I'm preggers! Our little nugget (or Murfey, as he/she has been affectionately called by Auntie Blow) is due July 11, 2012! (my doc says July 13th, but I disagree and can't bear the thought of dealing with all-day-never-ending-not-just-morning sickness an additional two days, so I'm sticking with the 11th)

In the posts that follow, I'll tell what I think is our interesting and unique story of how we got here. Some of it might be TMI, so I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable. I've been so excited to share some of these stories that I actually drafted some of these blog posts weeks (and probably months) ago so that I could remember the details and try to capture some of the real, and often pretty funny, emotions.

I tried to come up with clever ways to initially tell people, but I soon got so exhausted and pukey using my brain that I had to send terribly impersonal emails. I apologize. We broke the exciting news to our immediate families over Thanksgiving, and I think we really shocked them. We were visiting Jeff's fam and got to tell them in person. My fam got the news via telephone and boy did we confuse my already often-confused father. It was pretty hilarious. Here's soon-to-be Grandma and Grandpa Novota holding up the onesie and bib we gave to spill the beans.

Poor Blow, who's been sweetly hoping for and hinting at (although pretty blatantly) me to get knocked up for months, if not years, got an original Murnee poem on the phone that I shall share:

My Dear Auntie Blow,

I wanted you to be the first to know,

Your Mur Ny is preggers,

So put away the Jeggers!

I hate Jeggermeister, and I don't think Blow is a big fan, either, but it's the only booze I could think of driving on my way home from work as I dialed her number that I could somehow rhyme with "preggers."

Here's to 2012!

My Sher and My Godchildren

It was finally time for my Sher's baby shower! I headed to Fort Wayne for the weekend and could hardly wait to see her and her baby bump. She looked amazing (of course) and opened tons of cool gifts. 

Gotta have book

Stinking adorable tutu dress

Fancy Vera baby bag

Ashley and I hosted it at Ziano's, an Italian restaurant that I had never seen or heard of and was admittedly a little nervous about, and even had a private room. I apologize a hundred times for ever doubting my dear Ash. 

The girls

Sher's having a girl, so we had lots of pink, including a strawberry pink cake (for any Fort Wayners - I highly recommend For Goodness Cakes). February can't come soon enough!

 

After the shower, I was finally able to check out my sister's family's new house! I rode my power wheel over to their new place that afternoon and was greeted by my favorite kiddos of all time. 

Snack time with Katie bug, Aunt Mary and Zach Attack

Goober Fiat

Their house is beyond gorgeous and so huge. We dined on homemade 'loaf fresh from their 1/4 cow and Steph even made me a super delicious chocolate chip cheesecake dessert. Sinful.

 

On Sunday night, I drove to Indy and got to stay with my dear friend Blow, along with her hilarious husband Matty and too cute son Ian. The next day I said goodbye to my JLo Fiat and hung out in the Kansas City airport for about 5 hours and ended up missing another day of work (although I'm really not complaining too much about that). That city hates me.

Go Speed Racer

We didn't know what we were getting ourselves into, but we were really excited to go to our first NASCAR race with Tony and Molly. It was finally our chance to see Tony in his element. We brought some beer and our earplugs and started the morning tailgating. When we got to the race, I had no idea who to root for. I usually do a little research before I try something new, but my flu bug a few days before knocked me off my game. Sher and Jer told me to cheer for #88. With about 40 laps left to go in the over-300 lap race, I finally decided to cheer for the car that was decorated in Cheerios and Hamburger Helper. Two of my favorite things. I think he came in the top 20. Jeff cheered for the Caterpillar car.

 

Camo, pony tails (on men), beer coolers on wheels....what else could you ask for?  

J and T drinking while walking through the vendors

 Cut-outs of drivers? Check. 

 

A seat cushion with a convenient place to hold your Natty Lite? Check. 

Lots of people referring to someone named "Junior?" Check. 

 

4 Wheelers? Check. 

Molly was very excited to hop on this thing

Hearing loss? Check. 

Scanners. I don't know if it was the southern twang or if it was just too loud, but I couldn't understand a thing through these

Right before the gentlemen started their engines

 The race itself was the loudest thing I've ever experienced. My earplugs were critical, and it was still louder than hell. We had to write messages on our cell phones to communicate with each other during those four hours. Insane.

 We had perfect weather and really had fun wandering around all the vendors before the race. Molly and I were in line to win free Scotch tape, and listened as a NASCAR-loving country boy in front of us spun the wheel for his chance to answer a question and win. Here's how it went:

 

Host: What tape does Scotch recommend using when prepping your walls for painting? A. Scotch blue something-extra-fancy-super-sticky-easy-to-remove something or other (I don't remember the exact name of the specific tape but it had like 15 words to it); B. Masking tape; C. None of the above.

 

Redneck: B.

 

Host: No, I'm sorry. The answer is actually A.

 

Redneck looks to his girl standing next to him and she says, "Dang, you got it wrong?" They were surprised.

 

Seriously. The guy picked generic masking tape at a giant booth for Scotch tape where they were standing in line to get a giant roll of blue Scotch painting tape. Molly looks at me and says, "That just happened." Yep, it did.

 

I loved the people-watching. T was kind enough to offer me his camo hat early on, so I think I fit right in. Jeff told me I didn't. 

This was right after T got it autographed by an old racer....his name escapes me right now

The next race at Texas Motor Speedway is apparently set for March 2012. We've told T and Molly that they better get back down here. This might just become our Texas tradition.

Halloween SWA-style

I know, I'm behind. Here's a quick post on our All Hallows' Eve:

 

Jeff's work hosts an annual Halloween extravaganza for the employees and their families. People take their kids out of school for the day and bring them to headquarters for non-stop entertainment, including competitive skits and dances performed by different departments (which you need tickets to watch because they get so crowded and they're so popular), bounce houses, face painting, a costume contest and dancing. And booze. The company is even cool enough to host the festivities throughout the day and wrap up the party by 5pm - meaning no extended work day and you get to take your kiddos trick-or-treating that night. Local radio personalities even come to host the big party. We've heard about Halloween since the minute Jeff started working there, and was told he would be part of the Halloween party-planning committee. I wasn't going to miss out. 

 

So, we planned our costumes about 5 days in advance (thank goodness for Amazon 2-day shipping) and we were all set. I was Audrey Hepburn a la Breakfast at Tiffany's. One woman knew who I was. The other 600 just thought I was a weirdo dressed in black. 

 

Jeff attempted to be Donald Trump. No one knew who he was. His wig was so bad...and not in the desired Trump bad way. Just bad. And strangely bright orange. We had fun nonetheless.

Holly and The Donald

 Oh yeah, and the Golden Girls made an appearance:

 

America's Next Top Golfer

Erin and Cory introduced us to the magical world of Top Golf this past weekend. While they explained it by saying it was like bowling only using a club to hit a golf ball into various targets on a driving range, I still expected it to be much more argyle-sock-knicker-wearing than it was (RIP Payne Stewart). I wasn't at all any good and I'm not too ashamed to admit that I totally whiffed multiple times. I forgot my glove at home...otherwise I would've been an all-star, obviously.

 

This game was so addictive. Your golf ball has a microchip in it to track where it lands and how many points you get. Genius. Jeff and Cory initially took it far too seriously and tried to wack the ball as far as they could.

 

They quickly changed their strategy when Erin and I scored more points than them on the first round by haphazardly and awkwardly knocking our balls onto the green from our perch on the third level and hoping they rolled into a target. They did, and we scored lots of our points that way. Note: Do not mistakenly read that sentence to say "lots of points."

They even serve food and alcohol (full bar!) right at your table while you play. Unfortunately, my golfing got worse the more I drank. But it really felt like I was getting better with each sip and swing...

Really having fun...and not talking about the Miller's upcoming move to Hotlanta

Despite the fact that there were 5-year-old girls out there kicking my butt, I really want to go back and play again. Jeff was dragging me out of there at 1am. Who would've thought?

Big Tex

We hit up the Texas State Fair this week, and I'm ashamed to admit that we couldn't resist trying many of the fried foods, especially the 2011 award winners. I'm still recovering. And I can't get that 2nd grade song "We're going to the country, we're going to the fair, to see the senoritas with flowers in her hair..." song out of my head.

Big Tex himself

2011 Best Taste: Buffalo Chicken in a Flapjack. It's a buffalo chicken strip coated in flapjack (I say pan-kay-kay) batter, rolled in jalapeno bread crumbs, deep fried, skewed and served with a side of maple syrup. Surprisingly delicious, minus the maple syrup. 

buffalo chicky in a flapjack

2011 Most Creative: Fried Bubblegum. Bubblegum flavored marshmallow dipped in batter, fried, then decorated with a swirl of blue icing and sprinkling of chiclets. This was a warm, oozy, liquid-filled dough ball thing. Jeff ate one and kinda gagged. I ate two and still couldn't decide if they were good. The chiclets were the best part.

fried bubble-yum (don't be startled by the jackets and scarves in this picture. we may have had a little cold front sweep thru for 2 days, but Texans over-reacted in a big way and busted out the winter clothes. drama-rama.)

2011 Finalist: Deep Fried Texas Salsa. Nasty hard fried balls of tomato, onion, garlic, and jalapenos mashed together and rolled in crunchy tortilla chips, fried and served with warm queso. This was not the highlight of the fried foods. We each had about 2 bites and tossed it. Not sure how this was a finalist.

grody fried salsa

Fletchers Corny Dog. Yep, they really do call them "corny" dogs down here. Everybody. It sounds so funny to us. This was my favorite of all the things we tried, which is good because the Fletchers Corny Dog is the staple food item at the fair. 

corny dog

I never found my pineapple whip (thank you Blow for introducing this delicious dessert to me at the Indiana state fair years ago), which was supposedly somewhere in the fairgrounds according to my food map. The fair was huge and the people were even huge-er. I like big butts and I cannot lie....

Definitely a once-a-year experience and no more. Oh, and we saw little piggy races. 

piggies

Still full,
M

Friday Night Lights

Texas high school football is no joke. Before we moved down here, Jeff and I talked about wanting to go see a good high school game. We decided on Southlake Carroll v. Coppell, two rival top-ranked 5A teams from nearby suburbs. Coincidentally, Jeff works with one attorney whose son plays in the Coppell band and another attorney whose young family lives in the Southlake school district. All of a sudden, we had a group of friends to sit with at the game.

Then we really took a risk and asked some of our other friends (our age and child-less) from Jeff's work if they had any interest in going. Megan and Anthony politely, but enthusiastically, replied in their email that they "we're going to sit this one out, but y'all have fun!" Shoot. Melissa and Matt, on the other hand, seemed to be just as excited as us and quickly accepted our invite. Yay!

 

We heard from people at our respective workplaces that the Southlake stadium is huge and is basically a small college stadium. Then we were told that we should purchase tickets online before the game to make sure we're able to get seats because these teams sell out. Hmm. So I google more info about Southlake's Dragon Stadium and learn that it seats 11,000 people. It's even been the location for sports commercials. Holy moly.

We show up and see the giant blow-up football helmets on the field ready for the players to run out of. Then they start the fog machines and we're pretty impressed. But not nearly as amazed as when we notice the giant scoreboard and jumbo-tron screen thing on the other end of the stadium. Wowzers. 

Insane.

Totally insane.

 The coaches even wear headphones (they must be talking to Peyton Manning up in the box). Crazy. Poor Bishop Luers.

Major bonus - Chick-Fil-A at the concession stand. 

Happy.

There was one other thing that made my night even more incredible. I learned that Melissa, originally from El Paso, grew up with a horse and........wait for it............roped cattle!

 

I've made friends with and am sitting next to a real-deal 100% cowgirl! 

me, cowgirl Melissa and Matt

She was wearing brown leather cowgirl boots and proudly said she really did wear hers riding her horse (named Star) growing up. I curiously inquired, and she told me, so nonchalantly, that she was initially a show jumper but later started calf roping. I have no doubt that my head immediately tilted like a puppy's when you ask it a question.

Back up, I said. Like the rodeo?? Yeah, cowgirl Melissa replied and said her parents sold her horse when she left for college.

Back up more, I said. You're telling me you know how to lasso and race around on a horse?

 

She said yes and laughed at me a little. I hit Jeff on the leg and say, "Did you just hear that Melissa is a cowgirl and a calf roper??" I ask cowgirl Melissa how she learned to do that.

Again, so like-it's-nothing-in-the-world-to-race-a-horse-and-chase-a-freaking-calf-by-holding-on-with-only-your-legs-while-swinging-a-lasso-and-then-roping-the-damn-thing, cowgirl Melissa says, "just playing around." Really. Just playing around.

I told her it was too much for me to digest and that I was going to have to think about all of this some more. Cowgirl Melissa has no idea how many questions I have for her the next time we get together.

I'm not sure I was able to concentrate on the football game after that point, although I do know that Southlake was victorious.

That night was so much more than I could have ever hoped for.

 

M

Dancing Nancy

We all know when it's October because a bright pink sparkle shower hits America. Jeff knows it's October because Hester starts wearing his hot pink gloves.

I'm happy to report the Dancing Nancys have officially made their presence in Texas. We participated in the Komen Dallas Race for the Cure this weekend. Along the route, Jeff the Horse said multiple times he felt like an eager stallion ready to go after a calf (he's been to the rodeo too much), and complained that we didn't run enough of it. I had zero intention of running anything that sunny morning, and thought he should be happy that we ran about a third of it. Ok. Probably not even that. Don't judge.

The numbers make us look legitimate

We wandered around all of the vendors afterwards, picked up free goodies including tropical fruit coco-nut water (not as tasty as I hoped), and listened to a surprisingly good band that played a lot of Earth Wind & Fire. Bri-Guy would have been dancing for sure.

Jeff lovin' himself some "September"

Hot bongo player singing Cee Lo

Here's to raising lots of cash-o-la for breast cancer research and to hoping we're not walking these for the rest of our lives. But I will if I have to.

Little Nancy

Come Fly With Me

Jeff's parents made their inaugural stand-by trip to Dallas last weekend to visit us. We've become quite the tour guides of DFW in our short time living here.

On Saturday morning, we took them to the much-acclaimed Dallas Arboretum. We wandered through garden after garden of flowers, trees and fountains. It was really quite beautiful, and much of it overlooks White Rock Lake. I even convinced Jeff to let me buy a one-year family membership, so we can go anytime we want and take future visitors with us. The Arboretum also hosts wine nights and evening concerts, along with seasonal events. I'm excited, and if you visit us, I will probably take you there whether you think you want to go or not. You do.

My pictures don't really do the Arboretum justice, but here's a sample of what we saw:

Then we headed to the Highland Park Soda Fountain for old-fashioned Cokes, root beer floats, and a super delicious pineapple malt (the pineapple malt was mine, and it was G double O D good).

Not to let Barb and Bri-Guy be left out, we put the car on auto-pilot and drove on over to the Fort Worth Stockyards to hit up the rodeo for a THIRD time. If only they had some sort of annual membership. I can't lie, though, the entertainment and shock value is well worth the relatively cheap ticket price. This week we even saw a cowboy fly off a bucking bronco and taken out of the ring by paramedics. Yowza. He was moving his feet, so I'm sure he'll be back on the bronc in no time. My brother would have loved it. The Novota's also had a good time:

Before the rodeo, we dined at the H3 Steakhouse where Jeff and his dad gorged on Texas bone-in ribeyes. Barb finished her first margarita before the bread was even brought out. This is just one of the many reasons she and I get along so well.

We left the rodeo in the pouring rain, which lasted all the way into the following morning. Despite the weather, Jeff and his dad attempted golfing Sunday only to have to abort after 13 holes. Of course. Texas has been suffering from a severe drought and wildfires, and then we get soaked on a weekend we have visitBarb and I went shopping at the Galleria (new couch pillows for me - yay!!). Then we drove his parents around to look at some of the mega mansions and mini castles. That night, we ate Mexican food for dinner and frozen yogurt for dessert. Beware: Brian will try to swipe a taste of your fro-yo (and his spoon might have remnants of red velvet cake yogurt on it).

Before dropping them off at the airport, Jeff took them to Hard Eight BBQ (see a pattern here?) for lunch. I wasn't there, so I don't have any good stories or pictures. My only guess is that Matt Coulter still leads the pack by having the most expensive smoked-meat-on-a-plastic-tray meal, despite Jeff and Brian's valiant efforts. Come visit us and try to top the big MC.

I also remembered to make sure we had plenty of snacks on hand for Bri-Guy around our apartment. I made cookies and Jeff pulled out the peanuts before they landed at Love Field Friday night. Bri's been known to eat arts and crafts projects (specifically monkey faces made out of shredded wheat and glued to cupcake wrappers) left sitting out on kitchen counters when he gets a little hungry. Just ask him. Best. Story. Ever.

DIL

Doe a Deer

When Matt Coulter came to visit us for the second time in Dallas, and by "visit us" I mean he was here to interview and stayed in a fancy hotel and we just happened to have recently moved here, we met up with him for dinner and shopping. By "shopping" I really mean wandering through the giant and freakish Bass Pro Shop attached to the Uncle Buck's restaurant attached to his hotel. So random. More camouflage and fishing paraphernalia than I could ever imagine or want to ever see again in my entire life. That trip pretty much exhausted any desire to ever go in another one. Except for one thing:

Rows and rows of shitfaces!

Let me back up. In college, Blow (see below if you need to know who I'm talking about; she'll probably be referred to as Blow for the remainder of the life of this blog) and I used to play Spy Game late at night. If I gave away all the details, that would be giving away too many IU secrets. In short, we would put on dark clothes, sweatbands, and our sunglasses-at-night and sneak into our friends' apartments to see:

a. if they were still awake;

b. if they were still drinking; and

c. if they had anything random to steal (in a very nice friendly way).

On the night we found our forever-friend Shitface* at an apartment occupied by some of our guy friends, I think we also stole some mayo for Blow.

Shitface was in their bathroom leaned up against the shower stall. He was naked and had major head trauma. We scooped him up real fast and ran him home. The name just came naturally. 

Over the course of our senior year, we nursed him back to good health and dressed him up. We would take him to football tailgates and let him hang out at parties with us. We learned that he liked to listen to Nirvana and Cam'ron, and liked to play beer pong and George Bush war.

Two of our roommates, Carie and Katie, hated Shitface with a capital H. I don't know what you could really hate about Shitface, but they have always had serious issues with him. Blow and I, on the other hand, love him like our deer son.

He graduated wearing a light pink Indiana t-shirt tied up around his waist, colorful mardi gras beads around his neck, and a Bacardi pimp hat that was given away to Blow at the Blue Bird one night on his head. I was the lucky parent of Shitface during my three years in law school. He hung out in my closet. I wish I remembered the day I introduced Jeff to Shitface. I'm sure Blow was visiting. There was a real chance that he would break up with me on the spot. He didn't.

When I graduated, Ali and I talked about giving Shitface a proper death and burial. Neither of us could bring ourselves to do it, so Blow's brand new husband got Shitface along with his new wife. Matt has accepted Shitface with open arms, and has even added to his ensemble. He now has a piece of green camo wrapped around his chest, and hangs out most nights in their cozy garage (except when they bring him inside to play drums on Rock Band).

Shitface in the Coulter garage

Shitface and Blow - gangsta style

Back to present day. I walked into the Bass Pro Shop with Matt and Jeff, and immediately saw the rows and rows of shitface brothers lined up for sale. I almost died laughing and quickly sent a picture to Blow. I had never seen anything like it. When we were back in Indy in September, she brought Shitface over to Sheryl's so he could drink a captain with us and hang out.

Shitface reunion

 Props to poor Sher for putting up with our antics, and for accepting Shitface into her home. I think he'll be around for awhile.

*I know the language seems crude, but it really becomes quite endearing once you get to know him.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

My dad and brother flew down to visit us two weekends ago, and were our first official overnight weekend guests. My dad hasn't flown since 1997 - no joke - so we tried to prepare him as much as possible for the new airport security measures. I told him about liquids in his carry-on and taking off his shoes and belt, but somehow forgot to remind him not to try to bring any weapons on the plane. His Swiss army knife/scissors key chain gadget was quickly confiscated by the TSA. When asked if he wanted to take it back to the car, my dad replied with, "I would, but our car is parked 12 miles away." My dad now thinks some TSA worker is walking around with a "helluva nice" pocket knife.

After being "disarmed" and drinking an Irish coffee at the airport bar, they made it to Dallas. Huge thanks to Matt for helping our father navigate the airport and get on the plane. A few of us were pretty sure he would get picked out by the TSA and some of us even thought he might get detained for saying something wholly inappropriate. Whew!

We picked them up and took them straight to Hard Eight BBQ for some serious smoked Texas meats and a Shiner Bock.

Bud and DJ enjoying some BBQ

Hard Eight BBQ

Then we had to take them to the Fort Worth Stockyards to see the rodeo that night. My dad may have grown up in the Upper Peninsula, used an outhouse and eaten squisher eggs, but I think the western cowboys and bull riding were unlike anything he had ever experienced. My brother seemed to be equally impressed, and pointed out that my sister would probably be in tears watching most of the events. Quite possible.

Not sure. We were trying to walk thru Knife Alley (you might be able to see the sign above my dad's head), since he was disarmed earlier that day, and my brother was intrigued.

Me and Bud Ny

More cow butt. And 2 guys who hate having their pictures taken.

On Sunday, we went to the Cowboys v. Lions game at the  new Cowboys Stadium. Our seats were incredibly high up, but the view was amazing and the mega-normous screen was mesmerizing. I think I only looked at the actual field for a total of 34 seconds the whole game. 

Outside Cowboy Stadium

#93 Anthony Spencer - former Bishop Luers Knight

Matt, Jeff and Dad

The biggest shock my dad might have had the whole weekend was when he gave my brother a $20 to buy 2 Miller Lites and my brother handed him $1 in change. The pause and confusion on my dad's face was priceless.

The Lions were victorious, which was exciting as hell for my dad given that he's been a Lions fan his whole life.

We tried not to run my dad's "ass into the ground" like we did when he came to visit us in Chicago, but I'm sure it was exhausting driving all over hell's half acre to go to the rodeo in Fort Worth, the Cowboys game in Arlington, and our apartment in Dallas in about 48 hours. According to my dad, the eternal optimist, everything was "perfect" - including driving straight into the sun setting in the west when he forgot his sunglasses As my brother put it toward the end of their trip, Jeff could have pissed in a cup and my dad would have said it was perfect. We tried to make it even more enjoyable by giving him a bourbon and 7 every few hours.

Peace be with you all,

 

Liz