This Morning at Our House

Mackenzie lined up my iPhone, Scott’s cell phone, and Scott’s iTouch. She picked up each in turn and said the following:

“Hello?”

“Is Anne Bean.”

“Great.”

“Goodbye.”

And for Scott’s flip phone, she appended a:

“Close the door.”

After watching her make several rounds of the same conversation on each device, I drew an obvious conclusion: I like to cut to the chase when I make phone calls.

 

Time

I was shocked to the core a few days ago when my friend mentioned her baby was now 7 months old. I would have bet money he was born just last month or maybe the month before… 7 months? The time has blown by lately.

Note to self: Be less busy. Spend more time savoring.

Fast forward to tonight. Scott and I were talking and I mentioned that my half birthday was earlier in the month so I’m already 26 1/2. He just looked at me.

“You’re not 26.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re 25.”

And just like that, I got a free year of life. Good thing too, I needed it!

Here’s to making the last half of being 25 even more fun than the first half of being 26 was.

 

Paths

Scott Bean*, Mackenzie and I walked down by the Scioto river yesterday and soaked in the fall.

The leaves were spectacular and Mackenzie was thrilled to be running free and making “crunch crunch” sounds everywhere as her daddy chased her.

I can’t think of a time I’ve been happier. We have relished our time in Columbus, but are fully aware this may be our last fall here.

With Scott so passionate about ophthalmology**, we’re willing to move anywhere to make sure he’s in a residency program he loves. Between the two of us, we’ve lived for a prolonged period of time in:

Oregon – Scott was born and raised in Salem and we also honeymooned in Oregon and vacationed there. Beautiful.

Texas – I spent several years of my childhood in Houston and Dallas, where I learned to talk and developed a respectable drawl. The people were so friendly.

California – I was born and spent the majority of my life living in the heart of Silicon Valley. My whole family still lives there so we visit frequently. Scott has spent two fabulous summers there with me, one as a sports camp counselor. We played in the hot sun with a great group of kids until the afternoon before our wedding. It worked for us, but I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone worried about their flower arrangements Scott had nearly blond hair and a never-before-never-again tan for the wedding, and I had a face full of freckles and a truly impressive farmer’s tan.

Illinois – Scott worked for a law firm in Chicago in the year between high school and college. He lived in a beautiful suburb and enjoyed living so close to such a cool city.

No photos from Chicago, sadly. Time to go back!

Utah – We went to undergrad, and met each other in Provo. Mmmm mountains.

Zion’s National Park – Angel’s landing.

Please accept that photo of me skiing in Lake Tahoe as illustrative of the deep and abiding love Scott has for snowboarding in Utah. I realize the relationship is tenuous, but alas I have no photos of Scott snowboarding!

Ohio Medical school at Ohio State University. We love the changing of the seasons here and the people are so welcoming.

I can honestly say, we’ve loved every place we’ve lived and that has surprised us in many cases. Looking through these pictures brought back many good memories. So the adventure of not knowing where we’ll match and live for the next four years? Exciting.

(A little bit scary, because I can see us wanting to put down roots wherever it is… and a computer makes the decision for us. )

*Scott and I often call each other by our first and last names. Examples include “Anne Bean, could you check the recipe for me?” and “Scott Bean, it called for leeks, not onions.” It was pointed out to us recently that this behavior doubles as a term of endearment and as a positive identifier and that made me laugh.

**I just want to add here that I am so proud of Scott! He had wanted to be a doctor for 10 years when I met him and now we’re nine months away from achieving that dream. I know he’ll be an outstanding doctor and I’m glad he found a field he loves.

 

You could have knocked me over with a feather

I know I said I wasn’t going to post for a while.

But, dude.

In the last 30 minutes, my 21 1/2 month old little girl did the following:

- Asked to get down from dinner, asked me to take off her diaper, sat down on the potty and nonchalantly pooped (for the first time ever in the potty).

- Counted to nine on her own. Unprompted, she slowly and deliberately enunciated each number.

Um, I wasn’t aware she had super powers.

The potty success was one thing, but she had peed on it a couple of times in the past few weeks so tonight’s matter-of-fact victory was thrilling for me but didn’t completely upend my universe.

However, the counting thing? I had only ever heard her count to four, and it usually took careful prodding. But out of nowhere, she started calling out how many spoonfuls I was measuring in the mixing bowl. When she passed “five” I started looking around for someone prompting her around the corner (we were home alone).

“Six.” (Scott? Are you SURE you left for barbershop chorus an hour ago?)

“Seven”. (Surely there is a hidden camera in the room.)

“Eight”.

“Nine”.

Shocked to the core, I waited expectantly for her to continue on to one hundred. But, apparently “ten” eluded her. I’ve always felt that number was overrated anyway.