Introductions are in order!

Appearing for the first time, Miss Julia Ruth!

After an uneventful but very hot and sweaty pregnancy (North Carolina summer for the third trimester - what was I thinking?!), this crazy-haired little girl joined our family September 10th. 

Now seven weeks, she's proving herself a wonderful addition to the family.

Birth story and plenty of pictures and updates to follow!

Who thinks of these things?

Last night, we had tuna melts and salad for dinner (omg yes, on seedless rye with cheddar, and pickled peppers instead of relish), so I spent a little time dicing an onion. I washed my hands and carried on with life.

Fast-forward several hours to me lying serenely in my bed, hands tucked under my cheek. Then, watch my nose wrinkle. At that point, it was far too late to do anything about the horrible smell - onions mixed with cocoa butter body lotion - emanating from my hands. In the morning, I washed my hands with every different kind of soap I could find, both at home and at work. I tried the stainless-steel-spoon trick. I tried covering it up with more lotion. My hands, they still stunk.

At that point, I turned to my preferred method of self-soothing: complaining. It helped, a little.

And then, it helped a lot.

Because of my complaining, my co-worker passed on a tip she'd just read on Yahoo: coffee grounds as an odor neutralizer. And apparently, a lot of other things, as well!

I am thrilled to report that rubbing coffee - in this case, Master Roaster Maxwell House - on hands until the skin is a little tender really does get rid of the smell.

Focal point decision

My grandmother's sewing room was in the attic of their house when I was growing up. It was sparsely furnished, but what she had was high quality and comfortable. She had a chaise lounge that was my favorite spot up there. When they moved into a small apartment, I got the chaise.

(Can I take a moment to point out that while I type this, I'm listening to a dude from the Remington website explain how to replace the piston seal and piston seal assembly on a Remington 1187 shotgun. Juxtaposition of opposition, folks, that's how we roll.)

The chaise has seen far better days. When the cats joined the family, they promptly climbed into the guts of it and pulled all the stuffing out. Today, the springs are fully exposed, temporarily "upholstered" with a remnant of an old mattress pad, and covered with a $9 sheet from Target. I know it can be better. But it's not going to be better because of some amazingly crafty DIY project. Nope, I've recognized my limits and am bringing in a pro - aka my neighbor, who is a legit upholsterer.

The chaise is going in the nursery once it's done. I'm hoping it'll be the main design element in the room. To that point, I spent time at Jo Ann's today looking at fabrics. I'm looking at a purple/mustard/neutral color scheme.

 This one is my favorite, but it's a multi-purpose fabric, not upholstery, which might be an issue? It's pretty heavy, though. Also, I worry it's too linear. But it might make awesome curtains.

This one did not photograph well at ALL. It's textural, and has 2 purple and 2 greens on a creamish background. 

This one is really neither purple nor mustard, but I love it nonetheless.

Now that I look at these, I worry - what if I'm not confident enough to go with a bold pattern? The chaise is six feet long and three feet high, so there's going to be a lot of fabric.

Should I go with a plain fabric?

Should I go big or go home?

What's a girl to do???

O.M.B.

That's not a typo. That's an "oh my baby!"

You heard it right, readers, Mellow Your Soul is going to be a whole lot less mellow in six months. Operation: Baby was a resounding success. We're pretty much over the moon.

I'm on week 13 now. I think my energy is coming back, which is fantastic. Despite an ultrasound, the pregnancy still doesn't feel real, but I came out at work this week and am really looking forward to not trying to hide my growing belly. I'm running out of drapey sweaters!

I'm still running, and am planning on doing the Army Ten Miler for the third time this year. Whereas originally I'd hoped to beat my times from the past two, now I just want to finish without getting re-routed for being too slow. I'm pretty confident I can do it.

Here is my little parasite in all its glory! During the scan, Perry was definitely hosting a dance party in there. It would appear that, unfortunately, the poor child got mom's dance genes - herky jerky, spastic movements abounded. I'm kind of in love.

Rain down, rain down on me.

So. Mumford and Sons. Merriweather Post Pavilion. Lawn seats. A few hours prior to leaving, I sent my brother the following email, which included an excerpt from a weather blog on the Washington Post:

"This evening starts out sultry with readings still well up in the 80s and barely a breath of breeze. What is really interesting is that one of the main computer models has been advertising some notable downpours this evening all week. I would not be surprised to see just such an event cover as much as half the area. The storms are likely to be slow movers so brief localized street flooding is a possibility."

um, i am not going to be pleased if we get rained on. or if it's over 100 when i land. i guess i better put on some deodorant in advance, huh?

He responded with:

OH MY GOD it is a sultry hell hole. didn't wear an undershirt and i sweat through the front and back of my dress shirt just from my commute. i am going to be basically naked.

UHH also it better not effing rain. i didn't bring shoes that could get wet.

(It was well over 100 when I landed. I think it hit 104 that day.)
Now that the stage is set... We roll up to the concert after stopping at Chipotle for burritos and chips and guac, which we inhaled in the car. We are presented with this:

Looks nice and bright over the lawn, right? I didn't get a shot of the giant Cloud of Doom that was behind us. We settled in on our beach towel (thanks for the suggestion, Mom!) and listened to the opening acts. We blithely ignored the thunder that could be heard over the sound system. And then we felt a few drops. And then we felt a few more drops. And then we were in the middle of a "notable downpour." Darned if the forecaster wasn't right. That was a crazy storm. We ended up completely soaked to the skin. I tucked my phone in my armpit and huddled next to my brother under a beach towel. He fought valiantly to keep his shoes dry. People danced around us and exulted in the rain for the first few minutes; then they started complaining. We laughed.

As quickly as the storm came, it went. I stripped down to a camisole and my brother, along with most other men in the audience, dispensed with his shirt entirely.

And shortly after, Mumford and Sons took the stage. And all our worries about being cold and wet and muddy were erased and we danced and sang and had the time of our lives. It's been a while since I've been to a concert like this, where everyone knows every word to every song, and golly but the energy was just out of this world.

But wow was the car ride home uncomfortable!