27 - A Year to Love

{written on January 30, but posted a day late. You know, 'cause I got sleepy.}

{it's what we do on sick days -- teach the toddler all-important selfies. he now knows "cheese."}

{and then sleep and snuggle. With Sesame Street on for the littlest.}

Here I sit in the closing hours of my 27th birthday with a cat wearing a cone by my side and some hot vegetable soup in my belly. Today was not exactly the most celebratory of birthdays as our household has been hit by a stomach bug, one which started late Monday night and I thought I had narrowly escaped. But alas no; last night it got me. So today was a day of rest, tv, and a doctor's appointment to make sure all was well with baby (it is!).

I wasn't going to post anything until I remembered my resolution to just write. Today may not have been picture perfect or held anything worth Instagraming, but that didn't make it trash. In fact, when I really sat down to think about it, I got to spend it just the way I desired: with my two boys. I got extra cuddles from both, since none of us are feeling stellar, and was even taken care of by the eldest. I had numerous notes from friends sending warm wishes, and each and every one meant something to my heart. It was relaxing and full of love and completely unpretentious. It was a good day.

And that's what I'd like to focus on in my 28th year- attention to those who matter to me. Sending surprise notes in the mail, calling when I would otherwise text, picking face-to-face interactions over social media, and just generally taking the time to be there. It always amazes me how those little things truly mean the most. So this year I'm going to try my best to be that friend and give one of the sweetest and costliest gifts I have- my love.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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The Dawning of a Musical Miracle

Blog Every Day in May

Day 18/31 - Tell a story from your childhood.

"What's Napster?" Kathryn asked, seeing the little green face on my desktop.

"No idea. Robert told me to download it months ago. It's so confusing that I just leave it alone."

There we sat in my lime green room, Backstreet Boys watching over us from a prime spot on my wall while Christina Aguilera set the mood, trying to figure out what this Napster thing was all about without the help of (then nonexistent) Google. After many minutes spent waiting on load bars and answering AIM pings and trying to figure out exactly what song we wanted, somehow we ended up with two: Video Killed the Radio Star and Tony Orlando's Knock Three Times.

I have no idea how we got them. I'd never heard of either.

We danced around in our Old Navy bell bottoms and belted lyrics like it was our job, adding the Dixie Chicks version of Can't Hurry Love about an hour in. We were ahead of the game, taking technology by the reins and letting loose. CDs be damned- we could get any song we chose.  Well, any song that we chose and could find and actually had an adequate version of but pshhh...  minor details.

High on our Tony Orlando loving horse, we called it a night, leaving ten songs in the queue and waking up to three usable ones in the morning. It was the dawning of a new decade, and it was nothing short of a miracle.

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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Sunday Funday

Oi. Monday morning after a long night. The birds chirping and the sun slowly rising are beautiful and all, but it's like they are rubbing the roughness of the last six hours in my face. Besides me feeling a bit negligent right now and wanting to hug my baby a bit tighter, all is well and he is fast asleep. But still. OI to Mondays!

Luckily I have a good weekend behind me complete with pictures to look back on. That makes even the worst Monday shine a bit brighter. 

Saturday was one of those much needed rest days where besides going to music class, the three of us just holed up at home. After being out of the house for seven out of the past nine nights, I was so ready for this breed of relaxation. Home-cooked meals, a nap with the baby, and snuggling to finally catch up on last week's Downton hit the spot. 

Sunday was the opposite, but also so good.

We began with chais and mochas by Town Lake to bid farewell to the lovely Matt and Molly, some of our absolute favorites. 

{declan was not too pleased to hear those two were leaving}

The plan is for them to move here, have lots of babies, and hang out with me and Declan all day. 

Sounds perfectly reasonable and totally awesome, right?

Declan then squeezed in a nap to get his game face on for a fundraiser done the proper Austin way.

Indoor/outdoor bar, Fritos pie in a bag, raffles, and live music. Who could ask for more?!

Well, we could. That's why we got some Elyse, Dianna, raffle prizes, and moscow mules in red mugs,

with a "wham, bam, thank you ma'am" thrown in for good measure.

I had my eye on one prize and one prize only- a $100 gift certificate to Midtown Groom & Board. A ninety-pound german shepherd's shedding is nothing to mess with. It is massively complex and leaves little Tegan dogs in each and every corner. And yes, maybe if I brushed her more than every month or so it would get better and maybe it also wouldn't take an hour each time.

But I don't. 

I've come to accept this, and so should you Peytonia! 

When I saw this package I knew it was going to be mine. That was until some dude named John went up to claim it, and my dream three days of clean, groomed Tegan blew away in the wind. But fate is fate and I knew I couldn't let it go that easily. So up I marched to this John fellow, Tegan picture in hand, with a story of how my marriage would fail if my tyrannical husband had to deal with any more fur from that dog. (Not necessarily false, might I add.) And ya know what? He didn't even have a dog, didn't want to hear my story, and just gave the whole box to me! I consider this to be the best weekend gift of any February 17th ever. 

Declan also had some fun sharing a little two-step with the lovely Miss Kim. 

F-U-N. Written all over his little-man face. 

The night ended as Elyse celebrated the raffle she excitedly won but actually didn't by buying a round of shots for all. Poor friend. What are the chances of having more than one Elyse in a room of thirty people?!

So all in all, we had a fantastic time enjoying our city, our friends, and our prizes, but also knowing that our money was going to help the fight against muscular dystrophy. For that I say, winner, winner, tofu dinner!

How was your weekend? Any fun shenanigans? Ever won an awesome raffle prize or just been given it for asking?? You should try. It's pretty grand.

Happy Monday!

**We'd love for you to follow along on GFC or Facebook! Tabs on the side -->.**
:) :) :) XOXOXO <3<3<3

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Christmas 2012

While most bloggers out there managed to celebrate Christmas, make a post delivering the aftermath to all, then clear out and clean out as they headed in to 2013, I just finished looking through our pics yesterday. That's right, Christmas cheer is still alive and well in my heart, if only because I was just too lazy to deal.

So while it may already seem like it was forever and a day ago, I'm going to take a walk back on good ol' Kris Kringle Memory Lane.

Let's start with a little bit of Christmas Eve. Snow-filled, friend-filled, food-filled loveliness.

{he was very pleased to meet mr. howdy doody}

Our stockings were then hung by the chimney with care, stories were read, heads were kissed, and dreams of who knows what whirled through a certain little mind.

Christmas thus began and ended beautifully, a perfect first for our little boy.

{more to come on our fantastic mr. fox}

{sorry for the crazy face... I love Declan's too much not to share :)}

Merry Christmas January 18th to all, and... 

GO RAVENS!

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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ACL- The Non-Ligamental Variety

This weekend, my fifth Austin City Limits festival, was magic as always. Two years ago, this party was the closest thing to a honeymoon for us as we celebrated only six days post-nuptials. Last year, excitement came as I saw two pink lines on a stick, telling me that the festivities would be sans Pimms. And with smiles all around, this ACL included little Dex.

The festival is my favorite staycation. The perfect blend of relaxation and go-go-go, it keeps you trekking from stage to stage and has you sunbathing in between. (Well, sunbathing or rain dancing, depending on the day.) The sun is hot or the rain is cool; very rarely have I experienced that beautiful temperate day. But this hardly matters as you are surrounded by friends and friends-to-be and people that are enjoying the same space, and there is a fulfilling oneness in this that takes the experience far beyond the music.

It's weekends like this that make me long to be a professional photographer. I wish I could take all my feelings, emotions, thoughts, and memories and wrap them up into a perfect little package for all to see. I wish I could capture the way the short grass feels on bare feet or the sounds of competing bands over happy voices sound or the way the hodge podge of colors and people and umbrellas and flags is beautiful. I want to show you why teaching Declan to two-step is now on my list, so he can take a pretty girl by the hand and lead her around a dirt floor on her tip toes. Or for you to feel the hidden beauty that comes when standing in line for the porta-potties at sunset while watching hundreds throw their hands up to some reggae. We take pictures, but they don't do it justice. So please- just go. It's awesome and won't be regretted. Camp Declan, under the bright orange Hup Holland flag, will be waiting for ya'.

 Until next year ACL. You never fail to disappoint. 

(This post shall be filed away for whenever Declan decides that we're lame. Excuse me son, we knew cool before you could crawl. Though, this title and those pics of him might prove otherwise...)

LIVE THE MURRAYED LIFE

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