It's not all bad.... AND 8 years and counting

So, the teething thing came on like a MAC truck. I have felt the lurking mounds of molar on her bottom jaw on both sides for a few weeks now. Yesterday they were actually poking through. And Gillian was a mess. And we are really tired. But to remind myself of her usual sweetness and the better things, let me present to you photos of Gillian's first St. Patrick's Day jam session:



She really loved the music, and wasn't a bit shy about walking right up to the musicians and studying their hands as they played. She has pretty good rhythm, too. I have to say, it has always been a bit of a fantasy of mine to be able to dance a jig with my happy baby daughter at a session. And dance, we did. It was definitely a far cry from the old days when Holly and I would put on our vintage Gunne Sax dresses and combat boots and shamelessy, breathlessly dance for beer at Four Green Fields. All night. Now, my ancient-feeling self thinks, "how did we DO that?" I am barely able to function after 10 pm now. Much less after 10 pm and 10 Guinnesses. Heh.

Also, another milestone- Tuesday was our 8 year wedding anniversary. If you think about that + the three years we dated first, that's a third of my life with Sean. That is a REALLY long time, and it feels like it went by like a blink. We celebrated last Friday and had a lovely dinner at our favorite sushi place, Tanoshi, and ate to near blissful Mike Magical oblivion (with a soundtrack of 80s hairband music. awesome.). We headed over to Duke's, which I am ashamed to say, we had never been to (it is a wonderful neighborhood dive). Sean, the Trad purist, was not impressed with the kitschy "irish" band playing such nauseating tired (yet still crowd pleasing) old standards as the Wild Irish Rover. I started falling asleep at the bar by 11. So sad. Dearest Andrea volunteered to watch G (she didn't even know it was our anniversary-so nice!) and told us to stay out as late as we wanted (an open invitation, no less!), and the latest I could muster was 11. I must be a MOM or something. THANK YOU, ANDREA for braving our ball hoarding, crayon doodling, book mongering, yapping fiend for a couple of hours. I am very glad she was angelic for you (unless you are trying to spare me by exaggerating her pristine behavior). Needless to say, my friends are amazing. :-)