The Full Catastrophe! The Nields!

Katryna and Nerissa Nields have come out with a new album. For anyone who a) grew up in Western Massachusetts or b) loves good folk music, this is terribly exciting.

I fall into both of these categories.

The Nields were big on the coffeehouse/Lilith Fair circuit when I was an impressionable high-schooler and, now that I'm a impressionable mother of two, they've come out with The Full Catastrophe, their ode to parenthood, marriage, and how good life continues to be.

At first listen, I was pleasantly surprised to find that, while some of the songs were about children, they weren't necessarily for children. (Family-friendly is terrific. But I have a shockingly low tolerance for elephants stomping about. For example.)

Certain tracks jumped out at me; Back At The Fruit Tree, a bouncy ditty about how needs and priorities change once kiddos enter the picture. The Creek's Gonna Rise, a gorgeous song about the inevitability of time. And I Choose This Era, a sweet track about wanting to be right where you are.

The Full Catastrophe's themes of how crazy and exhausting and wonderful this phase of life is makes for a fun listen. And, much like having a sleepy-eyed toddler crawl into your bed at 6am, it's welcomed with a knowing smile.

Want to win your own copy of The Full Catastrophe? Of course you do.

Here's how:
-Comment here. Tell me about your love of good music. Or just say hi. (Worth one entry!)
-Tweet about this giveaway and link back here- but make sure to come back and lemme know you did so! (Worth TWO entries!)
-"Like" Lollygag Blog on Facebook or post about the giveaway on Facebook- but, again, make sure to let me know! (Worth TWO entries!)

I'll choose a winner (with the help of our good friend The Randomizer) on next Friday, June 1st. So, go! Go tell your friends!

I'll wait right here. I've got some good music to keep me company.

In Dog Years It's A Lot Longer.

We look so, so awesome in this picture.

To my darling, patient, better-than-I-sometimes-deserve but always-exactly-what-I-need husband on our fourth anniversary...

Nothing has changed yet everything has changed and I wouldn't change a thing. (Except for maybe one or two teensy things regarding our homestead.) But let's review those crazy ol' vows, shall we?

When I said "for better," I was most likely talking about Sunday mornings with our daughters, the paper, a questionable amount of bacon, and one of your stellar mixes playing on the stereo.

When I said "for worse," I might have been imagining that time when the lower level of our house gave up and disintegrated. (Was there a "for louder" part of our vows, too? Because that may be a three-way tie between the jackhammering of said house, the drilling of samesuch, and my entirely-too-related Ugly Crying on your shoulder.)

When I said "for richer-" well, that part hasn't exactly showered down on us yet, but we do lead a pretty darned fancy lifestyle (due almost completely to your obsessive love of coupons, Groupons, and Craigslist).

When I said "for poorer," I had no idea that I'd someday decide to send our kids to trade school. (Because seriously if an in-family plumber wouldn't have come in handy these past five weeks.)

When I said "in sickness," I'm pretty sure I was preparing for that cold you had this past winter. Good God, did I want to smother you with a pillow. (But I didn't. And I'm glad for it.)

When I said "in health," I couldn't possibly have known that I'd get that same cold one week later. (Thanks for not smothering me.)

There's still no one else with whom I'd rather tend a feverish child at 3am, argue over the necessity of antique store "treasures," and watch old movies while consuming enormous vats of your secret recipe popcorn.

Here's to the next four (times four times four).

And even though we're not in Virgin Gorda this May, getting to wake up next to you (and the girls and the cats) in Chicago each morning still seems like I hit the marriage jackpot.

Which may or may not actually be a thing.

But which I wholeheartedly mean, nonetheless.

(Happy anniversary.)

It's The Little Things.

As we close out week five of "The Project," it's pictures like this that keep me going:

Yuv.

This one doesn't hurt, either:

90% finished laundry room. (Yuv.)

Keely Rants At Her Kid's Clothing.

Resting up.

So, Nora has this shirt. It's a hand-me-down, as we're lucky enough to have most of her clothing be. It's short-sleeved, and features gold scrolling writing that spells out:

"Where's My Prince Charming?"

And for some reason (that I couldn't put my finger upon until today) this passively phrased tee bothered me. Now, don't get me wrong. I love princes and princesses. Dollhouses. Fairies n' mermaids n' trolls n' dressing up. I love makeup and crowns. Disney movies. Happily ever afters.

But now I've realized why it bothers me. (And I'll address my answer directly to my daughters):

1. Nora, Susannah, listen up. You don't necessarily need someone (prince, charming, or otherwise) to come get you and complete your story. There are many, many adventures out there. On some, you'll want companionship. On others, you might want to go it alone. That's totally great, too. (As long as you check in with your mother.)

2. In the short time that I've known both of you, it's left very little doubt in my mind that you'll never really need to ask that scrolled question aloud.

3. And finally, if and when you decide that you do need a Prince Charming (or Princess Charmingette, it really makes no difference to your Dad and me as long as this Royal treats you with respect and makes you wildly happy- and coming from money wouldn't hurt our feelings, either)...if and when this becomes a necessity...don't just sit around waiting for him to come fetch you.

Go find him yourself.