14.5 Months ain't so Shabby

FINALLY! Salem is walking!

I've decided that he's all about efficiency. And there for awhile, his crazy speedy crawling was just more efficient at getting him where he wanted to go.
Praise the Lord that those are days of the past. Don't get me wrong, there is very little that is cuter in the world than a crawling baby. But the muddy knees and hands when playing outside was just wearing me out...not to mention the knees of his pants.

Other news: he's turning out to be quite the food disposal.
He can put away a pb&j sandwich like you've never seen. And bananas don't stand a chance.
And for my Mother of the Year Award I'd like to inform you that he would live off of grilled zucchini and squash if we let him...or if we could keep it stocked in our fridge often enough.


He's quite the clown, and knows he's got me wrapped around his finger.


I'll be completely honest and admit that he's a total mama's boy. For now, I'm flattered and soaking up every second of it. When he's not getting his way and getting to be held by his mama, it's this face:


His two weaknesses...NUK and blanket. All is right in the world when mama, NUK, and blanket are present and accounted for.


His mumbling is turning into words now. Among the most commonly uttered words are:
                    mama, ball, pup, fish, shoes, go.

And he's a lot more interested in climbing feats than Eden ever dared or cared about. Someday I expect him to conquer Mount Everest.
But for now he practices on the dining room table and the upright piano.

Sweet 14.5 month old Bubs, we LOVE you!

  

One Down...

Last October...almost one year ago...Eden successfully potty-trained at 25 months old.

Something that usually goes hand-in-hand with potty training: 

pee-stained mattresses

2 a.m. sheet changes

Big shocker coming up...

She's not had ONE SINGLE night pee since she learned that that is what the potty is for.

Is that a miracle? I dunno. I certainly think so.

I'm blissful about the fact that I've yet to change a pee-soaked sheet at 2 a.m.

Two and a half months ago, when we moved to the promised land Texas, we moved her into her "big girl bed." You know, twin size bed, bed rail, the whole shabang.

She was ecstatic about it. Polka dot sheets. Pink pillowcases. Flowery quilted bedspread. What's not to love?!

Something that usually goes hand-in-hand with big girl beds:

getting out of bed after being layed down to sleep at night

repetitively taking a toddler back to the bed because they keep getting up

being woken up by a toddler eerily standing next to your bed at 3 a.m.

Next shocker...she's not gotten out of her bed ONCE after being laid down at night until morning time. It makes me wonder if she even knows that she physically can. I dunno. It's just never been an issue with her.

Until tonight. One of these things changed.

We were peacefully watching Brandon's new favorite show "Top Shot" when I heard footsteps.

It was Eden.

Coming down the hallway. After being put into her big girl bed to go to sleep for the night.

I would have been less surprised to see that Salem had crawled out of his crib and was making his way down the hallway.

"Mommy, I don't want to go to sleep yet."

WHAT?!  I didn't even know what to do with this. We've never had to address the "I don't want to go to sleep yet" issue.

Two of the childhood/parenting milestones were not crossed in our household until tonight.

But now we've got one down...hopefully not one more to go.

I figure it's only a matter of time until I'm beckoned into her bedroom to the sound of her saying, "I pee-peed in my chonies." 

Lets hope it's not tonight though. I can't handle two parenting milestones in one night.

Breakfast with Eden

It's amazing the information an almost 3 year old will share over a bowl of cereal.
This morning was especially enlightening.
Me: "Did you get to talk to daddy very much this morning before he left?"
Eden: "Yes. But he went to work."
Me: "Yep. But he doesn't have to work tomorrow! yay!"
Eden: "Yep. But he has to work today. On lawn mowers." (B works at his mom's family business)

I decided to dig a little deeper into Eden's knowledge of her daddy and what he does...
"What does daddy do at his work?"
"He works on lawn mowers and eats his lunch."
"What's daddy's favorite thing to eat?"
"Donuts."
"For lunch?"
"No. Not for lunch."  oh....glad we cleared that up.

Decided to get a little more creative with my questions...
"Where is daddy's favorite place to go?"
"The Donut Stop."  (I think it's safe to say what was on her mind this morning...even though she was eating a bowl of cereal.)
"If daddy could go anywhere in the world, where would he go?"
"To China."
"Why would daddy go to China?"
"To buy me a pink squishy pig."  (he brought her one a couple months ago, it broke that same day, and she's wanted another ever since)



"What is daddy's favorite color?"
"Pink."
"ummmm....I think that's YOUR favorite color. What is daddy's?"
"Brown or black."  (she knows her daddy well!)

"When daddy grows up what does he want to be?"
"Tinkerbell."

"How old is daddy?"
"Five"
"Really?!"
"Yeah, he's taller than me too."

"What is daddy really good at?
"Being a monster."
"Anything else?"
"Riding the ferris wheel."  (she visited her first amusement park the other night!)


And then she got to where every answer she gave to every question I asked was, "Monsters." Not sure what that is about.
But it was fun while it lasted, and informative as well! :)
She's at such a fun and talkative age, and constantly entertaining. LOVE this sweet munchkin!

I'm a Baptist

so that means that we don't really do "confessions."

But I figure a blog of confessions could be fun.
Daring!
(maybe I have a guilty conscience?)
But on one condition. You must. MUST! leave comments.
Because I don't really want to be the only confessionee. Confessioner? Confessionist?
Anyway.

1. Sometimes when Eden does her non-stop question asking in the car, (What's that horse's name? Whose that man in the black car? Where's he going? Why is the water tower blue?) I say, "Hey! Let's listen to music!" And crank up the tunes real loud and make her sing along. Occasionally, it's just easier.

2. Spelling mistakes tend to irritate the living daylights out of me. (and now you're all going to go and run spellcheck on my blog, right?) If I find one on a blog post of mine, I can not go on with life until I've edited it. If I find one on a blog post of yours, I may never return to your blog. (ok. a little exaggeration.)

3. My husband deserves someone WAY better than me. I love that man!

4. Once or twice a week I feed my children cold tofu for lunch while I fix myself a yummy bagel sandwich. In my defense, they both really like tofu and WON'T eat a bagel sandwich.

5. I secretly like the feeling of buying tofu. In my head I just know the cashier is thinking, "This mom is SUPER healthy, grows her own vegetables, and recycles everything she owns." (because that's what crunchy/hippy people do. eat tofu and recycle.)  And then I stop by the Donut Stop on the way home.

6. Brandon likes to share meals when we eat out. It's cheaper and it's a good way for us to not over eat. But in reality I could easily put away the Steak and Enchilada plate all by myself.

7. I don't understand twitter. I'm tweetarded apparently. And it bugs me when people talk about tweeting.

8. The only book that I read in its entirety in high school was The Catcher in the Rye. I avoided To Kill a Mockingbird like the plague, but oh yes, the book about the deranged and foul-mouthed boy, I'll stay up until 4 a.m. to finish.

9. I horrifically and most adamantly hate the word "panties." (just trying to make you all really uncomfortable in today's blog) I get all oogly googly just typing it out loud. In our house, we call them "chonies." Not sure where that even started. But I'm 97% positive that if Eden heard you say the 'p' word, she wouldn't have a clue what you are talking about. And I'm 100% positive that you if you said the 'p' word in our house, you'd get a kick in the shins.

10. I incredibly dislike crowds. Big event type things are tooooootally not my thing. Oh but wait. Where are we moving again? That's right. To the most populated country in the world. Real funny, God. Real funny.

11. I've taught Eden how to "properly" hold her baby to "nurse" her. I mean, if she's going to pretend, then she might as well do it the right way! :)

12. I cried during Toy Story 3. A movie with a talking Mr. Potato Head. Me = blubbering idiot.

13. Today I had cool whip with a little bit of fruit for breakfast.


Rounding it out at a baker's dozen.
Your turn.

Eden and Jillian

Eden has this new obsession with exercising.

When we were in NC she caught a glimpse of me on a treadmill at the YMCA. Her curiosity was endless.

What is this machine that moves as you run on it?!

When I come in from running in the evenings, she loves to see the sweat dripping off my forehead.

"You're sweaty?!?"  She thinks it's cool. Like it's the reward for exercising. Having a wet forehead.

She watched me do my workout video the other day. 

She was was even further intrigued.

Enthralled.

Amazed even.

Watching tv and exercising at the same time. Genius!

So the other day when I trapped the kids in the basement with the baby gate so I could finish some dishes in peace, (I know. Mom of the year, right?) she figured out how to turn on the tv and dvd player. My workout dvd was still in there.

And thus, she "got sweaty."  :)

Woe is Me

After my freshman year in college I spent the summer on the rec-team. Basically getting an awesome tan all while leading church campers in strange unique games. Occasionally we got to do double duty when the higher-ups considered us trust-worthy enough to act as counselors after the evening worship service.

So one evening, it was double-duty time. I got to "counsel" with two girls. These girls had the polar opposite of my up-bringing.

I grew up in a town of 2,400 people. They grew up in downtown Austin.
I drove a truck to school. They took a city bus.
My classmates all knew my name. They're "parents" had trouble remembering their names amidst they're drunken outbursts and highs.
My friday nights were absorbed with sports activities year round. Their friday nights were spent trying to avoid being raped.

Get my gist?

I felt incredibly out of place "counseling" these girls.

At the end of the summer I came home with an awesome tan and a gamut of stories to tell to my family, one of which was the story of the two Austin girls.
My sister, three years younger than I, who had the same upbringing, hit the nail on the head with her response:
"My worst problem is that I've got a drawer full of mis-matched socks!"
Witty (and wise!) beyond her years, Bekah reminded me how very small our problems in life have been compared to the struggles of others!

Anyway...point of the story... I was reminded of all this the other day when I was sitting in my worn out favorite spot on the couch. Commercial time came, and this came on:


I laughed out loud at first because I thought it was a joke.

No, no. It's for real.

It's depressingly real. Sad real.

Because if someone's biggest problem is that they've got eggshell in their muffin and need the "EZ Cracker" to make it all better, they seriously need to get out, do some traveling, see some impoverished parts of the world with people that would gladly eat an egg-shelled embedded muffin so they wouldn't starve.

Spend 19.99 and get the EZ-Cracker so you can crack an egg without getting goop on your hand or buy 2 mosquito nets for people in Africa so they won't get malaria while they sleep at night.

The reality, (it seems to me) is that our problems as Americans go as deep as eggshells in our omelets while others fight starvation.

And it makes me want to vomit. Vomit up my muffins.

(which don't have eggshells because I know how to crack an egg without applying 20 lbs of force!) sheeeeesh!

ahhhh, a venting blog post is needed every now and then!

The Great "What were they thinking?!" Debacle

Once upon a time there lived a sweet and innocent baby boy. This sweet baby boy had a head full of beautiful blonde baby hair.


Now this sweet baby boy has a daddy who is quick to act and a mommy who is slow to think.
And this daddy is quick with a pair of clippers and a level 2 guard. And this mommy is slow to realize what is to come.


Slow to think mommy, having second thoughts began to question their hasty decision...but sweet baby boy's beautiful blonde baby hair was gone before you could say "army recruit!"


Though none the wiser, this baby boy, now looking many months older, went on his merry way, cooler for the summer and now requiring sunscreen for his head.


Sweet baby boy now overwhelmingly resembles his quick-to-act daddy.


Fortunately, the story does not end here. Sweet baby boy's quick-to-act daddy and slow-to-think mommy have learned their lesson. This mommy and daddy have seen how a number 2 guard has stripped away they're baby boy's innocence, along with his blonde baby hair, and vow to never do such a ghastly thing ever again!