Family

How to Blow Out an Easter Egg

For Easter this year, I decided that I wanted to take a trip down memory lane and use decorated eggs as my table centerpiece. In the past, I’ve only dyed hard boiled eggs but was looking for a longer lasting option. Since we will most likely be decorating alongside a pair of tiny hands in the future, I knew that this Easter would be the perfect opportunity to try something new: blowing out the eggs.

I had no idea what to expect and envisioned at least one exploding egg, complete with raw yolk running down my face and shards of sharp shell in my hair. I figured that I’d go through an entire carton, cracking eggs left and right, before one emerged unscathed. Needless to say, I did not have high hopes for this project. But, I am happy to say that this apprehension was completely unfounded.

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Happy St. Patrick’s Day

As far as I know, neither Andreas nor I have Irish roots but we cannot deny our indisputable fascination with the country. Our family has yet to visit the Emerald Isle but given the chance, we would be on a plane headed over the Atlantic in a heartbeat. Is there any sound more lovely than the lilting melody of an Irish accent? Oh, to spend the day traipsing around crumbling castle ruins and soaking up the breathtaking beauty of a lush, green, countryside or craggy, windblown coast. And truthfully, a good part of our fascination probably centers around the music. On road trips, we spend hours blasting this song on repeat and when Alistair is in his jolly jumper, there’s nothing like some good Irish music to get him bouncing. My research on an Ireland trip has officially commenced. Now if only our bank account would agree with my plans…

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Six Tips For Baby’s First Flight

I love traveling. There’s such a thrill involved in the discovery and exploration of somewhere new. But more than just the final destination, I love the process of getting there. I love being propelled upwards through a ceiling of grey clouds to skim along the rays of brilliant sunshine. I like sitting thousands of feet in the air, jostled by turbulence, watching the world pass by below. Hmm… maybe I should get my pilots license, or something?

But add a baby to that combination and the magic of flight fades a little. When a screaming baby drowns out the rush of the engine, you start counting down the seconds until the plane touches down and that seat belt light switches off.

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