Guess What I Got For Christmas?

In the wee hours on Christmas morning, a not-your-everyday sort of e-mail hit my inbox. But the e-mail sat there, undiscovered for hours and hours. Poor thing.

When I finally checked my phone at some point on Christmas afternoon, I walked into the living room where my family was gathered and announced, "WE HAVE THE WEDDING PHOTOS!"

It was like Christmas came all over again. We rounded up the crew, found a VGA cable, wired a laptop to the TV, brewed some coffee and browsed thousands of photos for over two hours. It was awesome. We dubbed Mr. Seashell's uncle the "Where's Waldo" of our wedding, popping up in a ridiculous number of photos. We laughed so hard we cried at certain series of shots. We reminised. We recalled pieces of the day we'd forgotten. We poured over the photos for so long we had to take bathroom breaks.

You want to see too? Ok, fine. But I'm not blowing the top on my recaps. Those are coming soon!

 Photos by Blink of an Eye Photography

What did you get for Christmas?

Letting Go

As Mr. Seashell and I settle into married life, I've started to realize there's something I need to get better at: letting go. I'm learning to let go of me and embrace we.

My independence is of paramount importance. That's partially a tribute to how I was raised, and partially speaks to how I operate in the world. If I decided I want to do something, up until recently, I was just going to go ahead and do it. The idea of asking someone for their feedback didn't feel romantic, it felt childish. I struggled greatly with moving from me to we.

Mr. Seashell, on the other hand, embraced the we from the start. Being part of a team clicked for him immediately. "Checking in" over the purchase of a sweater didn't feel disempowering, it was for the greater good of our future, finances, and he actually liked my input. (That's probably a silly example, but a perfect one - the idea of asking someone if I could buy a sweater makes me batty as a grown, working woman. I have to ask you if I can buy a sweater?! This is a conversation?)

There have been many instances where I have had to challenge myself to "let go" of my previous mode of operating, and accept that I am now part of something greater than myself.

Has becoming a we been a process for you too?

Then and Now: Seashell Edition

Who doesn't love a blast from the past?

Then:

In many ways I was high school. I was involved in every organization, every club, took every possible honors and AP class, and still took time to enjoy the experience. Captain of the tennis team? Check. Captain of the Mock Trial Team? Check. Any Key Clubbers out there? Over the course of High School I was club Treasurer, Secretary, President, New England District Secretary, and International Board Member. Yearbook? Did that. Don't forget the honors and AP classes, and getting into my first choice college.

{Tennis Team}

 {Preparing to argue a Mock Trial case}

 {Key Club Senior Banquet}

{Heading to Senior Prom with my besties}

Yes we had dates! They were sitting across from us.

In High School I was fearless. I was ready to take on the world. I dove into everything and anything. You name it, I was there and I was going to rock it. I was outgoing, confident, had a broad circle of friends and the occasional boyfriend. I often dreamed of all that life had in store and felt sure I'd meet my husband at Northwestern.

Now:

I was right about one thing: I did meet my husband at Northwestern. But it wasn't when I thought - I met Mr. Seashell during graduate school.

A lot has changed between now and high school. I've grown, I've loved, I've hurt. In some ways, reality has kicked me in the butt. When you're 18 and achieved everything you've set out to do without fail, you start to think anything is possible. It's a great way of life. Then, at 22 you send out 100 resumes and don't hear a word. Discouragement and doubt creep in. Alone in a big city, you learn who you really are. You reevaluate your dreams, and you go to graduate school. You meet somebody wonderful, and you plan a wedding. You realize that as the structure of childhood and school has fallen away, you are the one to author your successes and happiness.

In some ways, looking back at those photos of my high school self makes me realize I could learn something from that fearless girl. She was pretty awesome.

Shells On The Beach: Our Honeymoon (The End!)

After 6 ridiculously lazy days at the Aventura Spa Palace, we kicked it up a notch and spent the remaining 4 days of our honeymoon at the PlayaCar Palace in Playa Del Carmen.

Mr. Seashell and I gave the property a quick once-over and were immediately pumped. Aventura Spa Palace was more of a "resort property" and PlayaCar Palace felt more like an urban, trendy, hotel. It was the perfect way to wrap up our trip.

 {source}

  {source}

After getting settled, we had an immediate order of business: locate "that place". You see, the first trip Mr. Seashell and I ever took (after a mere 8 weeks of dating!) was a cruise. One of the ports was Playa Del Carmen, and during our stay we found this fabulous little restaurant where we had to-die-for-margaritas, guacamole, and fajitas. It was our mission to return while on our honeymoon. One part for nostalgia, one part for the eats.

We searched, and searched. Every restaurant we saw from afar we'd get all excited, and then realize it wasn't the one. We were starting to get discouraged - but alas! - there it was. Just as we had remembered. 

We immediately ordered our beloved margaritas.

To-die-for margaritas? Apparently this bee thought so too.
We fished it out and drank anyway.

Mr. Seashell called these "our really embarrassing tourist sized glasses"

...but we tossed them back no problem

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the next few days we enjoyed the pool and beach, did some light shopping on Playa Del Carmen's 5th Avenue, and soaked in the long, warm nights.

Then, on one of our last nights, Mr. Seashell recommended we check out Coco Bongo. Not really knowing what to expect, I agreed. All I can say was: IT WAS A PARTY. It's one part live show, one part explosion of confetti and balloons, one part place where your liver goes to die. It was awesome and ridiculous.

After 4 attempts by the staff to get me to dance on the stage, I finally agreed. Don't I look miserable?

And there you have it.

Thanks for hanging in there through our honeymoon recaps! I have a few more posts to share while I wait on pro pics and then I'll get going on RECAPS! Woo hoo!

(P.S. The next day while laying at the pool I remembered the Cheeseburgers also hit Coco Bongo while on their honeymoon too. Holla, Cheeseburger!)

Shells On The Beach: Our Honeymoon (Part Three)

The thing I swore I wouldn't do...

I know, you've totally been dying to know what I swore I wouldn't do. It's really not that exciting, but I really, really, swore I wouldn't.

I'm anti-post wedding chop. I honestly don't get it. It's like you grow out all this long, gorgeous hair (which takes foreverrrrrrrrr) to create a certain look for your wedding day, and then you chop it all off the first chance you get. Now, I'm all for change. One part that bothers me is that you immediately outdate your wedding photos. Or similarly, why grow out your hair in the first place if you're someone who genuinely doesn't ever wear their hair long? The caveat being, of course, the up-do. Sure, sure, I'll go with that one. I guess I fell into that category - I figured I'd let my hair grow like crazy so I'd have the most options available for my wedding day 'do. I guess the part I get hung up on is creating a wedding look that isn't really "you" in everyday life. Plus, if you've worked toward creating something, why destroy it so quickly?

So, perhaps the moral of my babbling rant is that - in fact - I'm not anti-post wedding chop but more anti-do something totally out of character just for your wedding.

My story? I grew my hair out in anticipation of our wedding. I wanted to allow myself the option of whatever up-do inspired me. Then, when I finally settled on a hairstyle, my stylist advised that if I touch scissors to my hair I might not be able to pull off the look I was hoping for. So, I didn't touch it for quite some time. And I started to really like it. Check out this shot of my longest-hair-ever caught in a shot Mrs. Avocado took when a few bees grabbed brunch:

{source}

Well, check out this face come our honeymoon. This is my "hair, you are drowning me" face. Something switched, and suddenly it was the bane of my existence. The long, long, long hair was making me crazy.

I made an appointment at the Spa Salon. I had to. All I could think was: "Must. Chop. Hair."

Best hair cut I ever got? Oh, hell no. Here's what I looked like after some light styling.

I SWORE I wouldn't, but the honeymoon PWC turned out to be a highlight of our trip. And guess what? I'm totally eating my words. I think I may even go for some additional restyling. Nothing crazy, but perhaps a long bang is in my future!

Are you a fellow anti-PWC convert?

Shells on the Beach: Our Honeymoon (Part Two)

When considering the criteria for our honeymoon, it was pretty straightforward: warm and tropical, lots of lounging and relaxation, good food, fruity drinks, no hiking, no sight-seeing, no tours, no guilt over doing nothing. Additionally, Mr. Seashell and I are fortunate enough to be fairly well-traveled, and although there are many, many, many more places we hope to visit and explore we decided our honeymoon was not the time to do that. As much as I'm dying to lay on a beach on Phuket, I couldn't rationalize traveling halfway across the world with only the desire to lay around. I'll save that trip for another time when I'm more motivated to explore. All in all, Mexico was the perfect choice. 

So, back to our lounging...

{Post-Spa Treatment someone was suuuuuuper relaxed}

I did venture off my lounge chair to take some photos of the property:

{I think my photography skills are slowly improving. I love this pic of Mr. Seashell on the beach!}

And fear not, just when you thought we could not get any lazier we actually ventured on an ATV/Jet Skiing excursion one day!

 {I must really love you all if I'm posting these. Man, we look rough!}

And what beats a night on the town? (otherwise known as the all-inclusive hotel bar and nightclub)...

And that's how we spent most of our time at the Aventura Spa Palace. As promised,  I'll share "the thing I swore I wasn't going to do" and our adventures in Playa Del Carmen. Woo hoo!

Shells on the Beach: Our Honeymoon (Part One)

Our honeymoon has come and gone. And oh, was it amazing. When people ask, I can't help but say, "we did a whole lot of nothing, which was absolutely perfect".

I guess I'll start at the beginning:

We departed Boston Logan earrrrrrrrly Monday morning after the wedding. Mr. Seashell successfully completed his first husbandly duty: score first class upgrades.

{all your business travel paid off, honey! free first class upgrade!}

A few mimosas and a super cozy nap later, we were landing in Mexico!

After a zip through customs, an hour-long cab ride, and a check-in at the hotel, we had officially arrived. We spent the first portion of our honeymoon at the Aventura Spa Palace in Riveira Maya, Mexico.

{The view from our room}

During the check-in process we came to realize there was a bit of an entertaining mix-up. Our honeymoon reservation was made by my parents - the trip was a gift and additionally we were staying under their hotel membership. As a result, their name was tied to every part of the reservation. I found it hilarious, but Mr. Seashell quickly grew tired of the staff saying, "Hello Mr. and Mrs. MyMaidenName!" Mr. Seashell was a good sport, but on day two of our trip we opted to have the front desk fix our name in the system. Plus, I wanted to give my married name a spin. 

On our first night we ate at one of the hotel restaurants. Soon after we were seated, a waiter came over and offered to make us fresh guacamole. Mr. Seashell announced, "Yes, please! She loves guacamole!" I proceeded to give him a firm love smack and accused him of announcing his wife was a guacamole-fat-kid to a random Mexican waiter. Then the poor man was totally confused and didn't know if we wanted guacamole or not. Then I felt the need to excitedly affirm that, yes, bring on the guac. Score one for the language barrier.

 {Yum!}

And so began our ridiculously relaxing trip. Stay tuned for a whole bunch of lounging around, something I swore I wasn't going to do, and our adventures in Playa del Carmen.