Gonna Have To Buy Stock In Gerber.

Just one week shy of turning 5 months old, Charlie began his foray into the wonderful world of solid foods. I'm not quite sure who would consider this garbage "solid", but whatever. Watered-down-cereal-flakes doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely, I don't think. Oh, how he loved it! He started off a bit unsure, and then rapidly moved into his flaily arm and leg dance and his high pitched squeaky sound, which is Charlie speak for "Shovel it in faster, you stupid woman, fasterfasterfaster, I say!". So yeah, I think we can safely say that Charlie is a fan of food. Now we've moved onto cereal and applesauce mixed together, which is almost too much for his little brain to comprehend. The joy on his face when he realizes that Holy Crap, there is something ELSE added in here with this cereal stuff, and it is heavenly! is almost more than his face can contain. I'm a little worried that he is going to smile so hard that his cheeks might crack.


What are you doing with that spoon, lady? If you think for one second that I am going to...



Wait, what? DUENCUDCFNVB/....



Oh, my...



GOD! That crap is GOOD! More more more more now now now!!!1!!1

Blissful.

If you just happened upon my blog, then let me fill you in on a small detail: I like control. Schedules, order, organization, knowing what comes next. All of that. I love it all. This comes in handy sometimes, yes, but I fear it also holds me back more than it helps. I have really been working on just letting go as much as possible and letting things happen, letting the cards fall as they may, if you will. So when the husband had to work almost all day on Saturday, I took a deep breath and decided that rather than fall on the kitchen floor in a heap and scream, "But that's not on the scheduuuule waaahhh.", I would embrace this chance to get to be alone with the kiddies and MAKE it a good day, despite the crappy start. We packed up and headed to the park. Ho hum, right? Except that this time I made an effort to just let go and notice the small things around me. No worrying about dirt being smeared on a bright white shirt, no fretting over staying on schedule and getting home by a certain time. And what a beautiful day it was! I can't even really say what we actually DID because we just kind of meandered around this big, gorgeous park and explored. And I noticed the small things that sometimes pass me by. Ella and I laid on the blanket and she told me what she thought the clouds looked like, Charlie napped in his stroller, we waded in the river and had a picnic lunch in the grass, Charlie touched a dandelion for the first time, and I got to watch the world through the eyes of my children for a few hours. The whole time we were there I kept thinking that there was no way that I could take pictures that would capture how wonderful this day was, but I tried. And I am going to try this whole "letting go" thing more often.






















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I Know I Am Biased. Just Humor Me.

I do believe that the husband and I have somehow managed to create the most beautiful baby that has ever walked, er, sat...oh, hell, LAID DOWN on the face of the earth. Sometimes Charlie will start crying, and I'm all "WHAT is your problem, dude?". And then I have to remind myself "Oh yeah...babies don't like it when you actually bite their cheeks off because they are so cute you cannot stand it. Note to self: next time try the delectable looking thighs."

And So It Begins.

Endless, hot days at the park. Remind me again WHY I was longing for this a few months ago? It was "only" ninety degrees today, and we were all melting in the hot sun ten minutes into our visit to the park. Which gave way to whining and crying about fifteen minutes after that. I feel as if we got completely gypped out of spring and went straight to the hotter-than-an-oven-in-hell days of summer here in the south. While it is nice to be able to get out of the house almost every day, I am definitely not looking forward to hundred degree days at the park with a sweaty preschooler and an infant. Do you think I could fit a whole Corona Light in my travel coffee mug? And would that be frowned upon in our playgroup? Hmmm.

At least I got some halfway decent pictures of the kids today before heatstroke set in.

Things I Learned Today.

* When your three year old says, "I need to pee!!!", and you say, "Well, just go into the bathroom and sit on the potty", you should probably include "and pull down your underwear and pants" in the directions. Failing to do may result in an extra outfit to wash, one pair of wet shoes, and a good scrubbing of the bathroom floor.

* Make sure to check the laundry you are carelessly tossing into the washer for used diapers that accidentally got thrown into the hamper. 'Cause if there's one thing that I REALLY enjoy doing it's picking all of the gel innards of a diaper out of the washing machine for an hour.

* Specify the meaning of "paper" to your three year old, as in, "We are ONLY allowed to use crayons or markers on PAPER." Guess what? That favorite novel that you've read a trillion times and have all of your favorite passages highlighted? That is also made of paper. And now has Razzle Dazzle Rose stick figures scribbled all over the pages.

* Try to refrain from laughing when your three year old calls the baby "Mr. Weiner". As soon as she realizes that you think this is the least bit funny, she will insist on saying it ten thousand times that day, including proudly telling the cashier at Walmart that we call her baby brother Mr. Weiner.

* Do not get the absolutely insane idea to try to quit your whole-pot-of-coffee-before-7am habit while you have a three year old and an infant who isn't fond of napping. Just don't do it.

Busy, Busy Me.

We have been busy. Very busy. There have been playdates to attend, bathrooms to scrub, house guests to welcome, grocery shopping, and poop. Lots of poop. It doesn't actually sound like I've been all that busy when I type it all out, but I have been. I'm still trying to figure out how, when you have ONE extra kid, the number of hours in the day drops to somewhere around, oh, ten. I never have enough time to get everything done that needs to be done, it seems. Nevertheless, I am making time for the three people who read this blog to post a couple of updates about the family and our daily goings-on.

* Charlie. Is wonderful. Could he maybe stand to sleep a little later in the morning? Yes. Could he possibly be any cuter and could I be more in love with him? Nope. He is such a joy these days and he makes my day all that much brighter with him in it. He is starting Teething Fest 2009, I think, because he will damn near gnaw your finger (or nose, chin, ear, etc.) off if it gets within two centimeters of his mouth. And, oh, the drool. It hasn't seemed to affect his sleeping, though, so I'm not complaining. He finally realized that HEY! I have FEET! And they taste spectacular. Which is not a great combination if you think about it: Sock lint in the mouth and gallons of drool. As I type this he is up in his room babbling to the wall, and I can just see him opening and closing his tiny hand in front of his face, talking to it as if it the most amazing thing he's ever seen. I wish I was so easily entertained. All in all, we're just glad that he is finally a content baby and that the Colic passed without anyone attempting suicide.

* Ella. Is a handful. Always singing, talking, asking WHY?!?!, pretending, telling stories, dancing, yelling, smiling, and telling me "That's not faaaaiiiirrrrr." That there is her new favorite phrase, and it's getting old fast. But she keeps us entertained and laughing hysterically at all of her shenanigans, and is growing up way too darn fast for my liking.

* Mikan. Hates his job. But what else is new? He is overjoyed at the arrival of Golf Season and is trying not to throw a computer monitor at his bosses.

* Me. Busy, happy, frazzled almost constantly, loving Spring, laundry, poop, wiping noses, laundry, singing to songs on my ipod with the kids, trying to figure out how to make it to bed earlier and earlier each night, dishes, laundry, love. And laundry. And after proofreading this post, saying the word "and" far, far too much.

**Camera crapped out on us last weekend, so no new pictures to share right now. Working on rectifying this situation.

Happy Easter.

Without a doubt, the reason we celebrate Easter in this house is because Jesus rose from the dead thousands of Sundays ago, and with Him took all of my (and your) sins forever and ever so that we might be free. Amen.

Of course, when you're a mom, holidays also provide an awesome opportunity to take humiliating photos of your kids. Happy Easter, everyone.

Aaaanddd....

The morning has started off with a bang. Charlie is cranky, Stu puked all over the kitchen floor, and I actually walked into the playroom to find a giant turd sitting on the wood floor, courtesy of Ella. I really picked a great day to work on handling things better.

Mind Over Matter.

I WILL make today a good day. I don't know how many mornings I have started off saying that, sitting at my kitchen table with a very large cup of coffee, staring out the window at the whole day laying in front of me. One big question mark. I hate days like that. Someone around here, um, kinda likes to have a plan and be organized and lists, lots of lists. So when I find myself with a good 14 hours before bedtime comes around, and there is nothing planned to make that magic hour of 7:00 roll around faster, I feel like letting out a big sigh and going back to bed. But alas, there are two small kiddies in my house, so going back to bed at all, ever, is laughable. Instead I am Mom, Maker Of Fun And Ringleader Of All Activities. This is a lot to live up to on some days. On some days, I feel like saying to Ella, "Why don't YOU come up with something better to do, smartypants, if you are so hellbent against going to the park/coloring/playing barbies/staring at the wall again?!!?". But I don't say this, of course. I just let out a big sigh, throw the kids in the car, and drive to the park...again. For the fortieth time in about ten days. I am realizing that starting off each day this way is not a good habit to fall into. How negative and pessimistic of me! So I have set a goal for myself for the next few weeks, just to see how it all works out: Greet each day as a fresh start and stop letting my circumstances dictate how I feel for the remaining 15 hours of daylight. It is all too easy to fall into a funk for a whole day because the baby woke up early or it's raining outside or my day started at an unholy hour that I can't even speak out loud but it starts with a 4 or there's nothing to do waaahhhhh. Why is it that I always seem to let a bad morning ruin the WHOLE day for me? Why is going to bed at night a reset button for a bad day? More importantly, where is this reset button and why can't I seem to push it for myself at, say, 8am instead of 11pm? Well, my goal for today is to be more like Ella, and let go. Instead of focusing on not having any plans or being stuck inside because of the storms or getting dinner in the oven right at 5:00, I will take today as it comes, flaws and all. Instead of a day sprawling out in front of me with no end in sight, I will see it as a day full of opportunity to just be. Be with my kids, play on the floor with them, and even maybe have fun. And laundry. Lots of laundry. Because THAT doesn't take a break just so I can sit around and seize the day.

My New Favorite Pictures.

Charlie and Pop at the park this weekend. Everyone together: AWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

.....

First of all, you would have to know that Ella has a quirky little language thing that goes like this: If you are cooking something in the kitchen, you are a cooker. If you are drawing a picture, you are a drawer. And so on and so forth. I was sewing a birthday gift for our niece yesterday, and was using a small u-shaped tool to get some stuck thread out of the bobbin thingamajiggy. Ella wandered over. An excerpt from the conversation.

E: "Mom, what are you doing?"

Me: "Well, I'm using this small hook to get this thread un-stuck so I can finish sewing."

Pause. She watches me for a few minutes.

E: "Mom? You are a really good hooker."

Why, thank you, my dear. I can definitely file this under "Things I Never In A Million Years Imagined My Kid Would Say To Me, Ever."

In Which I Shamelessly Brag About My Child.

At any given moment in time, you will probably not find me droning on and on about how INCREDIBLE my kids are, how they are without a doubt geniuses who can read at the age of six months and speak fluent French by the time they turn two. That's just not me. I don't wish to be one of "those moms" who goes on endlessly about how superior her kids are to every other snot nosed little brat. Don't get me wrong: I am usually THINKING these exact things in my head, but I know how unbecoming it is to actually say the words out loud because I have witnessed it firsthand. I prefer to let my kids' actions speak for themselves. "What a POLITE kid that Ella is!", "She sure does talk well for her age", or "That Charlie, he is a world champion pooper". Okay, so Charlie doesn't have much to brag about yet, but whatever. But, I must toot Ella's horn for her for a moment, because we have discovered a hidden talent in her these past few weeks. Art! Gone are the scribbles and doodles of toddlerhood, making way for actual pictures that everyone can recognize for what they are. Who needs soccer or team sports when I am living with the next Jackson Pollock? Screw you, cleats and shin guards and neon orange jerseys. Ella's got a Crayola marker and she's not afraid to use it.

Four Months.

Charlie is four months old today, and he celebrated by continuing his raging bout of diarrhea. Hooray for me. Anyway, I am just in awe that he is already four months old, it is going by incredibly fast this time. Probably because when Ella was a baby all I did from sun up to sun down was sit and stare at her and make embarrassingly ridiculous faces and sounds to entertain her. And this time I, well, have other stuff to do. But we sure are enjoying our little man these days. In the past month he has come thisclose to rolling over, learned to grab a toy on purpose, and to accurately aim his hand to his mouth and chew on his fingers (verdict: scrumptious). He loves Ella more than anyone else he sees, and we can make him laugh by bouncing him up and down on our laps and singing asinine things to him, like the theme song to Scooby Doo or Clifford The Big Red Dog. He is sleeping so well (!!!) and gone is my mind numbing exhaustion from getting up five times at night and the sudden urge to get my tubes tied. Naps are still hit or miss, but I'll take twelve hours of continuous sleep at night over a two hour break in the afternoon. Beggars can't be choosers, people.

All of this rambling to say that we are all so in love with this boy, and cannot remember what life was like before he came along.