little black journal

Pregnancy has been full of little perks I didn’t think I’d embrace with such fervor: the comfy elastic-waisted jeans, the strange-but-amazing little kicks and pokes in my belly, the out-with-the-old, in-with-the-new game of nesting – I’m liking this pre-mama thing. But the very best part of it all? Watching Shane eagerly anticipate the arrival of the baby has filled me with such incredible joy and gratitude. From the very moment I saw that faint pink line that meant pregnant back in December, he’s been super-dad, scouring the Internet for the best OB, then registering us for birth classes and infant safety lessons and a hospital tour, spending hours reading online reviews to determine the right stroller for little Schnell. He checks his BabyBump app daily and fills me in on how the baby is developing, what kinds of changes are on the horizon, when I can expect my ankles to swell and my belly button to pop out. He’s a little stricter than I’d like when it comes to me taking (little) bites of poached egg and I can’t stand that disapproving look he gives me when I sneak a (tiny) sip of his wine, but I try not to begrudge his desire that I follow the rules. I know those raised eyebrows are rooted in love and concern. Daily I’m seeing him care for me in new and thoughtful ways, as his way of caring for the baby inside of me. I love the fact that he still remembers to slow down at that stomach-dropping portion of downhill road near Jason and Nancy’s, after my first-trimester moan that I could no longer handle his speedy driving. I cherish the nights he curls up to me on the couch to gently put his hands on my belly while we watch baseball. On those days when I feel especially big and uncomfortable in this rapidly expanding body of mine, he kisses me and reminds me that I’m beautiful, that this extra weight is part of a wonderful miracle.

There’s a scene in Juno (a Schnell fave) where Jennifer Garner’s character talks about how a woman begins to feel like a mother during pregnancy, but a man doesn’t identify with fatherhood until the actual birth of the baby. Not so, Jen, not so. This dear man already has dad written all over his proud, grinning face.

Dear Buhb,

Happy Anniversary!  It’s been quite a ride thus far, full of laughter and beauty and adventure.  Like that night on our Costa Rican honeymoon when the obnoxiouly loud chorus of tree frogs kept us from getting any sleep, or that perfect sunset we caught in Bruges in 2011.  That afternoon we spent talking and drinking champagne on the deck of our Whidbey Island rental last year is forever sealed in my mind as one of the best days ever.  I’m so grateful for your selflessness and support, for the all-nighter you pulled with me to rig a display stand for my thesis project, for the times you dragged me out of a funk with your stellar dance moves, for the way you have always walked alongside me, even when it was down a path you had tried to steer me clear of.  Looking forward our next big adventure (so excited to hit Kauai with you!), and our even grander journey come September.  You make my life better, richer, happier every single day.

We arrived back in Seattle last night – Texas is once again a faraway land, and on Monday we’ll return to work and the associated “real world”. But it was a pretty grand vacation, up until the very end…

We kicked off Thursday with a walk along the riverfront – the Colorado River ran right past our hotel and was bordered by a beautiful walking path that ran for miles in either direction.  We didn’t see quite as much sun as we’d hoped in Austin, but those warm, humid mornings were still wonderfully tropical.  If I can be in a tank top at 10 am, I’m a happy camper.

Post-walk, we grabbed coffee and breakfast tacos at Jo’s – one of the places we’d vowed to return to after our first stroll down South Congress. Their patio is the perfect place to camp out with a book and a latte, and we sat there for awhile, alternately reading and people-watching (this place is hipster central). It’s also the coffee shop with the best graffiti.

We spent the early part of the afternoon at the downtown AMoA Arthouse, taking in their latest contemporary art exhibits. I majorly dug the architecture-inspired drawings by Seher Shah. From there, we picked up a picnic lunch at the market and drove over to the sister Arthouse at Laguna Gloria. The art collection at this site was small, but the grounds were beautiful. Our old friend Steve, Shane’s best man at our wedding, lives in Dallas and made the drive out to Austin to catch up with us over salami and cheese.

We headed back to our hotel and I got some rest while Shane and Steve chilled out on our patio. It was so good to see the easy way they fell into conversation with one another, as if hardly any time had passed in the four years since they last saw each other.

The three of us grabbed dinner that evening at Black Star Brewery. We sat at our table well after we’d finished eating and talked about theology, about dreams for the future, about finding our callings, and then it was time to say good-bye to Steve as he hit the long dusty trail back to Dallas.

I assumed we were calling it a night after that, but Shane had other plans up his sleeve.  I raised my eyebrows when we missed the turn to our hotel, and he grinned that mischievous cocktails-on-the-brain grin of his.  We parked on 4th Street and headed toward Peche, known (in Shane’s circles, at least) for their impressive absinthe selection.  But first, we paused for a moment on the sidewalk to listen to this band’s rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama”.  Gotta love Austin.

Shane’s absinthe pour was all he’d hoped it would be, and I was quite taken with my lime ricotta tart and cherry whipped cream.  Double-score.

We started Friday morning with another long walk along the river (still working off that brisket!), and then brunched Bouldin Creek Cafe.  The food was excellent, the hippie vibe was lots of fun, and I reveled in what I feared may be out last outdoor dining experience for awhile.

We had an evening flight and a couple of hours to kill until then, so we drove up to Mount Bonnell to check out the view of the city.  That morning mist had yet to burn off, so things weren’t super-clear, but the stairclimb definitely did me good.

Temperatures were in the 80’s by this point and we were feeling ready for some lounging, so we drove over to Barton Springs Pool to grab a seat on the lawn.  This pool, an offshoot of the river, is incredible – it’s absolutely huge and has this cool mixed character of man-made and natural.  I wasn’t equipped for a swim, but it felt good to kick our shoes off and lay in the grass for an hour.

A quick stop at the Ice Cream Social truck for waffle cones, one more iced coffee at Jo’s, and then it was time to say so long to Austin.  We were a couple pounds heavier, a bit more tan, and a lot more relaxed than when we’d first arrived – the city had been good us.

Steve asked Shane and I on Thursday night what it was that we hoped wouldn’t change with the arrival of the baby, and this question has been rattling around in my head ever since.  There were so many moments in this trip that were decidedly kid-less (long mornings in bed, late night cocktails, the absence of any sort of set schedule), and as hard as it may be to see that sort of freedom go, I’m ok with it.  But the laughs?  The joy in sharing a new experience?  Our ability to have silly, unbridled fun together, to genuinely enjoy just laying on the grass with one another?  That’s the good stuff, the stuff that’s here to stay.

We managed to squeeze a little SF getaway into our itinerary before flying to Texas – 22 hours in the city to see a game, catch up with a couple of friends, and dine at our favorite restaurant in The Mission. It was a whirlwind, but Shane had it all carefully mapped out. I married the ultimate trip planner.

After a quick coffee date with Brieanne, I met up with Shane, Marco, and Lisa at the ballpark for some Giants v. Padres action. I can’t think of a more perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon than soaking in the sun while watching Buster Posey knock baseballs out of the park. Bliss.

Final score: 5-0, Giants! (As if these grins didn’t speak for themselves.)

High on victory adrenaline, we trekked back to our hotel near Chinatown to clean up a bit before dinner. Shane had scored us a room with a great view of Coit Tower and the Bay – I think I grow a little fonder of this city every time we visit.

We had dinner reservations at Delfina that evening and took our time strolling from the BART station to the restaurant. The Mission has become one of our favorite neighborhoods in San Francisco – the bright colors, the lively crowds, the mix of new and old. And the pasta at Delfina. Ohhhh, that pasta.

In our younger days, we would have capped off the evening with a cocktail at Bix or Bourbon and Branch. Instead, we headed back to our room and capped our evening with a chocolate bar and an episode of Veep. After changing into my stretchy pants and slipping between those crisp hotel sheets, I can’t say I minded the way things have changed.

I met up with my friend Danielle on Monday morning to dish the latest with one another over coffee and pastries, and then it was time for us to say adios to the City by the Bay and board our plane for Texas. I always leave a little piece of my heart in SF after visits like these. Good thing Buster is there to hang onto it for me. 😉

My whole Sabbath resolution didn’t work out for me so well this weekend, but that’s alright – the past couple of days were filled with quality time with some of my favorite people, a couple of very satisfying checkmarks on my project list, and most importantly, a morning spent cheering on these rockstar runners at the Mercer Island Half Marathon.

Shane’s couch-to-marathon journey is the stuff of inspirational success stories – when we first got married, that guy couldn’t run a mile without doubling over in sweaty, breathless exhaustion.  Now, Shane Lightning Schnell is running half marathons at 7:15 a mile.  That’s right – he ran those whopping 13.1 miles in one hour and 35 minutes, crushing his personal record and finishing 133rd out of over 1500 runners.  All those lunchtime runs in the cold and rain, all those Saturday mornings spent pounding the pavement, all those blisters and sore muscles, they all paid off.  It felt so good to see him head toward the finish line with a smile on his face – I was so proud of him, and so happy to watch him experience the joy of meeting a hard-fought goal.

We all gathered at the 8 oz. Burger Bar post-race to toast the runners with beer and mimosas and milkshakes.  Boy, did these guys ever earn their pints.  I’m not sure what I did to earn my strawberry milkshake…we’ll call it my cheerleading award.

Shane spent the rest of the afternoon curled up in our bed, took today off to recuperate, and then hit the sack at 8:30 tonight.  Looks like the speedy Roadrunner is no Spring chicken, but whatever – he’s still 100% stud.

Tomorrow we head to Portland to celebrate Christmas with the Jarrells.  But today?  Today was the Schnell family pre-Christmas Christmas bonanza.  And it was glorious.  Shane and I stayed in bed until 10 am, at which point he rolled out to pick up scones from the neighborhood bakery.  I poured us a couple of glasses of festive-looking green juice, we dug into our breakfast, and then it was time for presents!

There were several gifts under the tree this year to Boo from Boo – I scored a sweet new lens for my camera and Shane was happily surprised with a bottle of fancy absinthe.

It felt good, our little family of two sitting by the Christmas tree and listening to Nat King Cole sing about roasting chestnuts.  So warm and cozy and…right.

I spent the better part of the afternoon in the kitchen, rolling our sugar cookies and making my favorite cranberry cornmeal biscotti.  Can’t wait to decorate these babies tomorrow with Elise!

We headed downtown later in the day to do some shopping and catch a movie.  Shane bought me a couple of pairs of earrings from my favorite boutique and then we walked over to the theater for Silver Linings Playbook, which turned out to be my kind of movie – romantic and sad and happy and just a little bit cheesy.

After the movie, we strolled through downtown, taking in all the Christmas lights one more time before heading to dinner in Capitol Hill.

We capped off the night at home, snuggling on the couch and watching Elf while Shane sipped his spiked eggnog and I ate the cookie cast-offs (no sense in letting that armless gingerbread man and four-pointed star go to waste!).   It was nice to soak in the peace and comfort of home today – I feel rested and thankful and so, so ready to engage in some serious playtime with two very special little girls.  Portland, here we come!

Shane and I had dinner with one of our pastors on Monday night, and as we laid all of our hopes/longings/sorrows out on a table filled with piping hot bowls of pho, she reminded us that we shouldn’t let our dreams for the future get in the way of reveling in the present.  Damn, she’s good.  I get so wrapped in wishing and wanting that I forget how good things can be right now.  We’re young and active and healthy.  We live in an amazing city with all kinds of amazing people.  We have good jobs and a home we love.  And we have boatloads of freedom.  We can jet off for a weekend getaway when the mood strikes us, we can spend an entire Saturday lounging in our pajamas after a long and tiring week, and we can turn tickets to a 7 pm comedy show into an epic night out on the town.  Last night was such a night – we had tickets to see Louis CK at the Paramount and decided to meet up after work for a pre-show bite at Kushibar.  We’ve been wanting to check this place out for awhile, and the big bowls of tonkotsu ramen did not disappoint.  We’ll come back next time with bigger appetites – I wish I’d had room for the fried octopus balls (as in fried balls of octopus meat – don’t be gross)!

We had some time to kill post-dinner, so we popped into Shorty’s on a whim to play some pinball.  This place is pretty divey, but once you get past the sticky floors and the musty odor of whiskey-soaked dudes, it’s a fun joint.  Oh, and I crushed Shane at pinball, for the record.

We made our way from Belltown to the Paramount and could hardly contain our excitement as we settled into our seats.  Shane has been a big fan of Louis CK for years, and I’ve recently come to see past the occasional (err…frequent) crudeness and get a good laugh out of his stand-up.  I had pretty high expectations heading into this – it was our first comedy show and I’d heard from a couple of people that this tour was hilarious.  And wowsers – he hit my high expectations out of the ballpark.  My cheeks hurt from laughing by the time he left the stage.  And then he came out for an encore and I howled some more.  Thanks, Louis – we needed that.

I assumed we’d jump on lightrail and head home after the show was over, but Shane had another whim up his sleeve as he pulled out his phone to look up downtown dessert places.  We walked down 4th Avenue, taking in the decorations and the lights and the clear, crisp night.

We landed at Purple wine bar and after four seconds of perusing the menu, I settled on the creme brulee.  Shane ordered a stinky blue cheese plate and a glass of port, and we sat there for awhile, still chuckling over our favorite Louis jokes and remarking what a fun, random night it had been (the Shorty’s crowd and the Purple crowd are typically not one and the same).

Much love to my man and my city – we should all get together more often.

Today is a special someone’s “Larry Bird” birthday (Shane’s trying to make this super-obscure reference “a thing”, so I’m throwing him a bone). Yup, my man turned the big 3-3 today.  We spent Shane’s last birthday in Paris under the Eiffel Tower, and while I would have loved to sweep him off to France again this year, I had to settle instead on a box of goodies from the French bakery near my office.  With a little extra flair, of course…

The evening’s celebration was relatively low-key – beer and the Giants game at our favorite sports bar, then dinner with a few friends at the Mexican joint around the corner.  Shane and I have both had kind of a tough post-vacation week, and it was so good to see him grin from ear to ear tonight with each Giants run, each pat on the back from his best pals, each bite of his spicy goat stew.  His joy was contagious – I felt like it was my birthday tonight as well.

Happy Birthday, buhb.  Wishing you a year full of grand adventures, gasping-for-breath laughter (you and I do seem to get funnier with age…), and virtual high-fives from your boy Matt Cain.  I love you mucho.

It’s become common knowledge that Shane can run.  Good Lord, that boy can run.  One full marathon, a handful of half-marathons, and hundreds of miles in training runs in between – he’s a machine.  He can bike, too, with 20-mile weekend rides around Mercer Island just for fun (how is that fun?) and summer commutes from work on his shiny red Trek.  But swimming?  Not so much – Shane still carries the scars of his of his 6th-grade swim class.  The teacher told the kids to line up in their lanes according to their skill level – pros in lane #1, slow-pokes in lane #5.  Shane, in his pre-teen confidence, strutted straight over to lane 1 and doggy-paddled across that pool like his life depended on it.  Two minutes later, the teacher called him out and told him he belonged in lane 5 – poor kid had to get out and do that march of shame to the other end of the pool, dripping wet and totally embarrassed.  He carried that discouragement into his 30’s and never really graduated from the doggy-paddle.  So I was a bit surprised when Jack convinced him to register for the SeaFair sprint triathlon – did Shane understand that the first part of that “tri” was a half-mile swim?  My surprise quickly turned to pride when he registered for classes at the local pool and traded in his flowered board shorts for some legitimate spandex – it felt daunting and a bit awkward to be taking up swimming so relatively “late” in life, but he shoved his qualms aside and went for it.  ‘Cause my guy really is all kinds of awesome.

After months of training, race day dawned bright and early today as we made our way to Seward Park for the big event.  Shane suited up, I settled into my spot on the sidelines, and he was off!

He came out of the lake in the middle of the pack, tired but looking strong (and kinda hot, no?).

He said the bike was the hardest part of the race for him, but with a smile and thumbs-up, he signaled that he was ready for the run.

Just seconds from the finish line, with barely enough energy left for one subtle smile…

Check out this trifecta of studliness!

Congratulations, buhb!  I’d say you have officially earned your place in lane #1.

We awoke this morning to gray skies and a steady drizzle, which initially had me a bit bummed out, until I realized this was just the excuse we needed to go back to bed for a couple of hours.  No beach-front runs for us today – just plenty of snuggling up to the mister, exchanging mushy greeting cards and wishing each other a Happy Anniversary many times over.  We lingered at the house until check-out time, really not wanting to say goodbye to our little beach-front abode – I’m already checking future availability…  We had planned on an afternoon hike at Deception Pass, but the rain only fell harder as we drove north, so we stopped for a hot bowl of chowder in La Conner for lunch and decided to head on home.  We ended the day with 60 Minutes and a pot of oatmeal for dinner – how quickly the tides turned in our ultra-romantic weekend!

While the life we live is full of so many blessings, it’s also full of little stresses, daily to-do’s, and the general whir of busy-ness.  It felt so, so good to put all that stuff away for a couple of days and shift all of my focus to loving my husband better, taking joy in his humor and thoughtfulness and devotion.  It was refreshing to lavish affection upon one another, to talk about our hopes for the next year and the next fifty years, and to know that we’re really just beginning this grand adventure called marriage.  As hard as it is to come down off a such a perfect weekend, it’s encouraging to remember that we still have so much to look forward to – thousands more “I love you’s”, hundreds more kitchen dance parties, plenty of grand adventures, and a healthy smattering of island getaways.  Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.  Thanks for two days (plus six years) of bliss.