Sunday, August 30, 2009

sunday in review

Daddy time is different than mommy time.  Maybe just because (at our house, anyway) daddy time is in limited quantity...that alone makes it very exciting.  Maybe it's because daddy does things like build a blanket fort, maybe it's because daddy lets Mister A chew on the cat's tail.  Whatever the reason, the boys clearly had a lot of fun when I made a quick trip to Borders this afternoon for some new educational reading material.  (I was looking for books about raising toddlers.  I left with a new fashion magazine and a paperback with a pink cover that's clearly chick lit and not related in any way to toddlerhood.  Oops.)

Daddy time pictures...

We had such a nice Sunday, despite my lingering sniffly nose and sore throat.  Allergies?  The Crud Round Two?  Some karmic punishment for all those times I've contributed to the door-ding epidemic by abandoning my shopping cart in the middle of the parking lot instead of walking it back to the shopping cart corral?  Who knows.  Even so, I was determined to enjoy this day with my boys, and the result was a very sweet Sunday.  The big news: J's a proud new papa.  Not to Mister A or Bumblebee this his new (to him) car.  So we spent time in the driveway this morning, oohing and aahing and installing a car seat, much to J's dismay.  That took the sexy factor of said new (to him) car down a few notches.  Ha.  (Oh, don't worry, the gigantor car seat will be in the trunk when not in use.  Gotta let the guy have some man space untouched by parenthood, right?)  

Mister A, being all dude-ish and taking a serious look at the new wheels.

After the auto-admiring we headed to the mall, had a klassy food court feast (Villa Pizza, how I love thee) while Mister A smiled and waved at every kid who came within five feet of his high chair, then got J all suited up for his sister's fast approaching wedding (so excited, LaLo!)  We found A some stylish new soft soled shoes and some sale rack polo shirts that were just too perfectly preppy (and clearanced!) to pass up.  Only as we exited the mall did I realize I was the only one going home empty handed.  Such is life as the mom, right? 

Here's a video of A trying to walk in his stylish new kicks.  He's obviously a little bewildered by this new sensation of having shoed feet.  (And no, I don't condone the wearing of a slightly too-tight onesie with fall season shoes.  It was just a try on session, obvi.)  

And just like that, another weekend bites the dust.  Fortunately we've got a lot to look forward to this week.  Mimi arrives tomorrow for a visit, my hair gets the makeover it so badly needs on Tuesday, and it's SEPTEMBER!  Which is exciting as long as I focus on the fact that September means I get to pull out all the fall decor and watch new prime time television and take a trip with my boys to California....and NOT focus on the fact that it means my baby boy has a BIRTHDAY coming very, very soon that will make him a baby no more.  Oy vey.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

i win!

Our backyard just took another turn toward Tacky City.  The kid stuff (inevitably, I suppose) seeped out our back door and into the yard.   While perusing Craigslist for one of those 'must have' sand and water tables like Sara found the other day, I came across this thing, an item I'd seen listed brand new on the manufacturer's site for a shockingly exorbitant $179 (a newer version, sure, but still).  

Who knew Craigslist shopping for kid gear was a competitive sport?  The seller posted the ad for the big plastic tacky kid toy (BPTKT) at 1:45pm.  I called at 2:00pm, thinking I was really jumping on this BPTKT.  Seller Lady said she'd received three emails and had just gotten off the phone with a woman who was coming by at 5:30pm, "but just to look, so......."  Sensing a lack of commitment to BPTKT buyer #1, I attacked.  "I'll be there in an hour with cash!"  SOLD!  Mine!  Mwahahaha, take THAT, 5:30pm tire kicker!  I was even willing to offer $5 more than she was asking to tip the deal in my favor, but didn't even have to go there.  (Only after A and I were halfway to Seller Lady's house did I think about whether the BPTKT was going to fit in my midsize SUV.  Um, derrrr.  Thankfully, it fit in with a millimeter to spare.)  Anyway, I guess other parents don't enjoy spending $179 on BPTKTs either, so a $30 Craigslist listing for one that's unfaded, unbroken, and not located in the ghetto brings out tough competition among the internet shopping mommy types.  Fortunately, I'm highly experienced in competition against crazy women.  For example, I spent the summer of 2002 locked in my bedroom with my laptop plotting each and every millisecond of my sorority's fall rush (excuse me, I meant formal recruitment).  I was determined that Alpha Phi would continue our recent track record of total campus domination- we weren't filling the hallowed halls of 2626 with a bunch of second rate duds on my watch, no sirreeee.  And it worked- we totally KILLED those DGs and GPhis and all the other slacker houses with our wickedly polished synchronized window pop out/singing skills and cutting edge sherbet hued graffiti writing rush shirts!  HA!  Sweet taste of victory then, in the form of a celebratory bid day and stellar group of new recruits.  Sweet taste of victory now, in the form of a BPTKT filling up my mommy mobile and bringing a whole lot of wide eyed giggles out of my sweet boy.

PS: Here's A's face after I told him that rush story.  Probably kind of like your face right now.

PPS: even hose water tastes better from a Mighty Fine cup.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009


1. Red Lobster is not your friend.  I don't care if you're pregnant and it sounds like the most fantastic idea in the whole wide world and you've been salivating at the thought of Red Lobster food for days, don't send your husband on a 20 mile roundtrip halfway into downtown for Red Lobster take out.  You will regret eating those chewy clam strips as you feel them go straight to your hips and you will be haunted (and nauseated) by garlicky burps from the two or three or four or HOWEVER MANY biscuits you ate.  Trust me on this one.  Just say no.

2. If you're missing your cell phone, check the back yard under the grill.  Because really, why wouldn't your cell phone be in the backyard under the grill?  I don't know whether to blame the child or the cats or my increasingly absentminded self...but I'm happy to report that despite baking in the 400 degree heat of our back patio for goodness knows how long, it still works.

3. If your kid refuses to let you clothe him OR smooth down the faux hawk he's rocking after a dip in the backyard (super klassy blow up) pool, let him be.  He looks pretty cute as-is.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

much ado about monkey

Just another 104 degree Saturday.  We've hit the bottom of the 'things to do' barrel, I'm afraid.  Swing is out (too hot), pool is out (too hot), and this weekend even strolling Target or the mall is out (Texas tax free shopping weekend....think shuffling masses of whiney children protesting back to school shopping and a whole lot of mothers exhausted by this miserably long hot summer and snapping at said whiney children).  So today, we spent a good portion of the afternoon just chilling in A's bedroom.  I read books aloud while he paid rapt attention chewed on a stuffed dog and taught himself to open and slam his sliding closet doors.  We looked out the window and talked about trees and sunshine and why that kid on the skateboard at the park should pull his stinkin' pants up (because he looks like a hoodlum, that's why).  We dug to the bottom of his toy box and pulled out toys that had previously failed to capture his attention to see what might pique the boy's interest now.  What we found was a singing gorilla he got last Christmas from his Mimi and Papaw.  You may remember it from this post's video of Griffin being less than impressed with the gift.  (That post also contains a video of tiny A and his mittens that made me choke on my peanut butter cup- so teeny tiny was A!  It also contains an interesting, unwittingly  prophetic comment about babies in 2009 that kind of made me giggle.)

But anyway, back to the point: today, that gorilla was a hit. 

He was doing his best to bust his way out of the gate (what, and escape all this "fun" we were having?) when I fired up the gorilla.

The singing and clapping got his attention...

...and he reallllly liked what he saw.

Until the gorilla clamped down on his fingers, taking A by surprise.

He recovered, and spent a good long while obsessing over the moving monkey mouth.

And just because I really love his super fine baby blonde hair and those chubby little arms, and because I  don't ever want to forget the way we'd sit side by side at the big window of his very first bedroom and talk about trees and sunshine and hoodlums...I have to include this picture too.  

For an afternoon spent passing time doing a whole lot of nothing, we sure did enjoy ourselves.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

car seat safety

It was total sweltering misery and felt like it was 85 hours long, thanks for asking.  Wait, what?  You didn't ask how my Wednesday went?  Oh.  Well, now you know anyway.  And since I don't want to blog about how I think poor, tormented A is working on a monster tooth (or, worse, was replaced overnight with the world's whiniest, clingiest, most temperamental 11 month old) or how I'm starting to look like the Pillsbury Doughboy or what a colossal letdown the "Octomom" special on FOX was....I'll talk about something actually important (for a change), even if it may be a bit controversial in my mommy circles.  

The general rule of thumb among parents seems to be to that a child is kept rear facing in the car seat until age one, then flipped forward facing as soon as the birthday cake icing is wiped off their little toddler face.  It seems many pediatricians still subscribe to that train of thought as well, despite the American Academy of Pediatrics recently changing their recommendations.  A's pediatrician was ambivalent on the matter when I brought it up at his nine month appointment, leaving me with enough lingering concern to do some independent research to decide for myself what was safest.  While I consider A's pediatrician the boss when it comes to diagnosing infection and tracking developmental milestones, most pediatricians do NOT receive a whole lot of schooling on less scientific matters like car seat safety and sleep, and typically advise from their personal experience instead of their education or scientific studies.  As per usual, the all-knowing Nesties had access to the information I needed and convinced me that as much as I'd love to be able to see A's sweet little face while on the road, there were some serious (and possibly life-saving!) benefits to keeping his seat rear facing at least until he turns two.  (And after that, keeping him in a 5-point harness safety seat for as long as his weight allows.)   Because there seems to be some confusion: I'm NOT talking about keeping your 1+ year old child confined to the infant (carrier) seat.  I'm referring to the safety seats commonly referred to as "convertible seats" that have the ability to hold a child rear or forward facing (like the Britax Boulevard you see the February version of Mister A in here).  

I encourage my readers to do some research if you haven't already.  Watch the following videos and click on the links.  I'm not intending to sound like a know-it-all, since I'm still a newbie mommy learning as I go along.  But I do care about my many mommy friends and the safety of their sweet babies, so sharing this information feels important to me.  If this might help someone decide to keep their child rear facing a while longer....mission accomplished.

If nothing else, consider this fact: children under age two are 75% less likely to be killed or suffer severe injuries in a crash if they are riding rear facing rather than forward facing.  In fact, for children 1-2 years of age, facing the rear is five times safer.  (Pediatrics Journal, 2008)

A "12-month old" rear facing:

The same "12-month old" forward facing:

Informative Links:

Monday, August 17, 2009

11 months!

Behold...Mister A's final couch picture.  As you may recall, I promised to stop at 12 months.  And on his 12 month-i-versary (I refuse to acknowledge we're thisclose to his first birthday), we'll be in Southern California- no couch, no sign.  Not going to lie, I most definitely did shed a few tears as I picked him up off the couch and took down the sign.  

In celebration of turning 11 months, I'm 99% certain our boy said his first word.  We'd been playing with Griffin, and I kept saying "doggy!" because each time I did, A would grin and look at Griff.  I took him (A, not Griff) to do a diaper change, and from his changing table he peered down at the floor where the dog usually would stand, then back at me and said "dawwww.....gee"!  More sappy emotional pregnant mommy tears.  

Speaking of animals, we had a special guest during today's photo session.  Can't you just read A's mind here?  "OMG, RALPH!  Hi!  You're on my lap!  OMG!  Wow!"  And Ralph?  As usual, just wanting someone to let him outside, and figured getting all up in A's business might do the trick.  Instead, he was mauled.  We're still working on that "be nice to kitty" thing.

Sunday, August 16, 2009


Something about parenthood- I've never felt so legitimately, irrevocably adult, but in other moments, it's childhood revisited.  Take today, when we celebrated the final departure of The Crud with a trip to the splash park.  

We packed the diaper bag meticulously- baby lunch, baby spoon, baby bib, swim diaper, change of clothes, sunscreen, kitchen sink.  (Forgetting just one minor detail...a towel.)  We buckled the babe into his seat, ensured a snug fit, supplied sufficient toys, confirmed the stroller was on board, climbed into the front seat, and shook our heads at the vague memory of how easy it once had been to jump in the car and go and just how crazy it is that not so long from now, there will be two.  We felt very adult there in our responsible family SUV in the garage of our responsible family home.  Then we arrived at the park.  We watched A crawl at lightening speed toward the fountains the moment he was set down, endearingly fearless in this brand new atmosphere.  We chased him and felt the water soak into our warm skin, we laughed and laughed as our boy explored and learned and had so much fun.  We forgot about work and bills.  I forgot to worry about whether my beer belly was sticking out.  We felt that same light headed, light hearted easy happiness as the kids jumping all around us on this late summer day.  We played.

And A, he just loved every soaking wet minute of it.


Saturday, August 15, 2009

doodad fail

See that?  It's another one of those baby doodads that a young, childless person spots in the home of a not-so-childless person and thinks to her childless self "damn, kids sure do ruin an otherwise perfectly styled house with a lot of ugly colorful junk...what the heck IS that, anyway?"  Not that I speak from experience.  Or, okay, maybe I do.  Then I had a child and suddenly that semi-tacky looking plastic doodad was a baby noggin saver, preventing a nasty cut to baby's perfect, pretty little head by the unforgiving metal bath spout.  I spotted it at BRU awhile back and felt a surge of excitement like I once felt for new lash lengthening mascara at Ulta, so I forked over the $15 doodad fee without a second thought and tried it out as soon as we got home.  (I know.  Lame.)

So see that?  Same baby doodad.  But it's the baby doodad after a certain monkeyish baby gets his monkeyish little paws on it.  During his bath last night, he did a little rearranging.  Which I somehow didn't notice.  Until tonight, after I dashed into the bathroom, cranked on the water, and dashed right back out to grab A and handle a particularly messy (read: time consuming) diaper.  Then back to the bathroom, squirmy naked babe in arms.  THEN I noticed what he'd done.  It was kind of hard to miss, what with the fountain of water shooting OUT of the tub toward the toilet and covering the bathroom floor with a good half inch of what was supposed to be A's bath water.   

Ahhhhh, parenthood.

Friday, August 14, 2009

things i did today

-Woke up feeling still crappy.  Laid in bed feeling sorry for myself for a few minutes.  'The Crud', as I so scientifically named our infliction, just won't go away.  It's made our week very very long, it's trashed our plans for a weekend road trip, and it's cost me approximately $85 in pregnancy-friendly cold meds, baby-friendly cold relief, and Chick-fil-A chicken soup.  A's nose is still runny, and he adamantly refuses to let me wipe it with a Kleenex, so he spends the better part of the day licking boogers off his upper lip.... he's so over The Crud.  He makes a whole lot of sad faces that I really try not to think are cute....but they are cute, in a very sad way.  See?  Cute.  But sad.

(Relax, that's popsicle slime on his chin.  He's not bleeding from the mouth.)

-Experienced a fit of desperation for fall, with its crisp cool weather and crisp cool color palate.  Considering that the stupid weatherman is still insisting on shrugging his shoulders helplessly like it's totally not his stupid fault while pointing to seven day forecasts chock-full of triple digit afternoon highs, I had to improvise.  That's how I ended up at Carter's, A in his stroller, choosing a couple fall-ish PJ sets.  (I know.  We should stay home and keep our germs to ourselves.  But people, I had to get OUT or I was going to seriously LOSE IT.)  The boy needed PJs anyway, since it seems I'm washing the same two well-fitting sets over and over again.  It was satisfying to feel that while I can't change the temps, I can outfit my sweet boy in PJ pants striped with colors of fallen leaves and just pretend the weather outside matches his nighttime wardrobe.  Then we strolled next door to Hobby Lobby and checked out bunches of golden leaves and pumpkin pie scented candles and smiling scarecrows on sticks and resisted the urge to buy one of everything. 

-Checked to make sure my cat was still breathing.  Twice.  Big George nestled himself into a quilt upstairs around 9:30am (I remember the time, because it was halfway through Regis & Kelly and I was gasping and wondering what on EARTH possessed Candy Spelling to show up on set with a youthful polka dotted, knee baring dress and for goodness sake, what kind of crackhead editors did she work with who let her go with a book cover that looks like THAT.)  So the point was, I saw George lay down right about then.  I went back up there at 4pm and realized he was still in the same spot, same position.  Had a minor heart attack and wondered how one properly disposes of a dead cat, like whether I'd need a license or something.  Poked him in the side and he awoke, staring blankly at me, then seeing I had no food and going right back to sleep.  Phew.  I guess he's just as oppressed by the late summer heat as I am.  Repeat this scenario at 6pm, convinced that THIS TIME he really was dead because OMG, it's been like nine hours since I've seen him get up.  Nope, still living.

-Read the UsWeekly cover story titled "Bachelorette Deception: How He Tricked Her" and failed to really see the problem there.  The whole point of the story was how EddieGreenShorts was um, how do I put this, "seeing" two other women while courting the Bach'ette.  Who happened to be dating (and making out with and sharing Fantasy Suites with) eleventy billion people at one time.  I don't see an issue, other than the whole entire whorish Bachelorette concept, but that's not so much a problem as it is a sinfully delicious television addiction.

-Ordered a Pizza Hut pizza, and I sit here now salivating at the thought of its fatty fried crust deliciousness.  J's working (shocked?) so I'll likely devour the bulk of said pizza all by myself.  Gee, I have no idea how I gain so much weight between appointments, nurse, it's weird!  I most certainly will dip said fatty fried crust in ranch dressing.  And I most certainly won't feel bad about it.  At all.

-Ordered a Zefron (Zac Efron, obv!) movie to go along with my pizza indulgence.  I heard it was actually good, a male version of when Lindsay Lohan did Freaky Friday with Jamie Lee Curtis.  Plus, I'm always amused by Zefron and his eerie resemblance to my baby brother Binky.  I'd post a picture of Binky and his sort-of-Vanessa Hudgins resembling, super adorable girlfriend....but methinks they'd be more than a a little embarrassed.  You'll just have to take my word for it.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

on being sick

Being sick is probably not on anyone's "favorite things" list.  (And if it is on your "favorite things" list, have your crazy head checked.)  But being sick with a sick baby and a sick husband and a baby in the belly to consider (read: ruling out the possibility of sucking down a bottle of Nyquil until this nasty gunk goes away) is at the top of my "well, that totally freaking bites" list.  Not that going to work for 12 hours with this same gunk sounds like much fun either, but at least J was able to show his cold what was up with a Z-pack.  Notsomuch here.  A's running a booger factory and his plucky personality faded, oh, the moment J shut the front door and drove off to work.  Goodbye, sanity!  Thereafter, A let out the beast.  Tractor toy not pushing straight?  Scream!  Mommy won't let you play with the knife?  Scream!  And lesson learned- don't even let him SEE the blue booger sucker thingy.  That was the ugliest meltdown of all.  I can't blame the kid- if he feels half as crappy as I do today, he's one sad puppy.   

He's peacefully sleeping now, chest smeared in Vicks and humidifier running full speed.  I'd love to be sleeping as well if laying down didn't mean an immediate total blockage of both nostrils and I can't exactly sleep when I can't even BREATHE now, can I?  Breathe through your mouth, you say?  Right.  That would be a whole lot easier if my throat didn't feel like I ATE NEEDLES AND FIRE for lunch.

I know, I'm whining, and nobody comes here to hear me whine.  

You do come here to hear about super cute babies, right?  Here's one for you:

(Hydration and vitamins are so important when one has a cold.)

And here's another super cute baby:

I had an ultrasound yesterday, and Bumblebee is looking good.  He/she also looked all Red Bulled up.  Flipping, kicking, arm swinging.  If in-utero behavior is any indication of Bumblebee's personality, I'm a little scared, but that's why God invented wine.  (For me, not for the baby.)  But all is apparently well, and for that, I'm thankful and thrilled.

And tired.  And sniffly.  And stuffy.  And all around yucky-fied.  And off to fill a bowl with ice cream and hit the couch.  

Monday, August 10, 2009

he steps!

On an otherwise uneventful Sunday afternoon of toilet scrubbing and laundry folding and wiping A's runny nose every ten minutes, the little man decided to shake things up.  Mister A took his first teeny tiny baby steps!  What a thoughtful son to make sure both mom and dad were in the room AND had the video camera at the ready.
I don't know what I love most about this video- A's wobbly little steps, or J's sweet excitement over those little steps.  Both make me a very happy girl. 

Saturday, August 8, 2009


Since the Big Announcement, I've received so many happy, excited messages from my happy, excited friends.  Thank you!!  You're all the best, and I don't just say that because you take the time to visit my blog and tell me how cute A is every day.  Since my email responding time has been a bit limited today thanks to nap fighting and teething (A) and mega exhaustion and a backlog of Tori & Dean on my DVR (me)- I thought I'd do one FAQ post here to answer some of your questions.

Here goes.

Yes: we'll be finding out what we're having.  Obviously!  I've got as much patience and will power as I have understanding of complex algebraic equations.  (Read: zero, zilch, nada.)  If you've met me in real life, you know I've relentlessly harassed my friends who refused to find out against my wishes (hiiii, Megan!) and I just don't have it in me to wait.  Even if I did, J doesn't.  He's got painting to do.

Yes: we'll play round two of "let's torture our loved ones by remaining mum on the baby name until the birth day".  I can hear you groaning, knock that off.  Here's how we feel.  First, everything else (assuming and praying all goes as planned) will be very anti-climatic.  We'll know the exact date and the exact time and the exact gender of the baby, so we like to leave something as a surprise so yall will actually have a reason to obsessively check this blog (or your text messages or FB or what have you) come the big day in mid February.  Dos, we like to choose a name totally on our own without any input or crinkled noses from those with different taste than our own.  Thirdly, I have a weird aversion to anyone referring to our unborn baby by name until he/she has arrived safe and sound.  It just freaks me out.  And it also all but revokes the right for a 39th week change of mind if everyone's been calling the baby by name and sending monogrammed outfits.  Hence, he/she shall continue to be known as The Bumblebee for the remaining 27 (+/-) weeks.

No: not planned.  This is one of those questions that, if someone hasn't asked, they're probably wondering since, you know, A's pretty fresh out of the womb.  And since I'm an open book, I'll go there even though it probably also falls into TMI territory and my grandparents read this.  Anyway, nope, not so much planned.  We've always hoped for a sibling for A, and I always thought it would be nice if they weren't much more than two years apart.  We're thrilled with the timing, even if it wasn't exactly as we envisioned.  The Big Guy has a Big Plan and who are we to question that.  He is good!  And He will also provide an abundance of heavily caffeinated beverages to pull us through the first year!  

Yes: I'm feeling okay.  Finally.  I spent each and every day of the past six weeks falling somewhere between "so-so" and "SHOOT ME" on the scale of 1st trimester misery.  Nausea, food aversions, food cravings, bloating so bad I broke the button off my favorite shorts, crippling exhaustion.  Now I'm just feeling like my clothes are shrinking overnight and like it's a totally reasonable thing to cry during the nightly weather report.  (Which it maybe is, if you are facing day FIFTY above one hundred degrees.  FIVE-OH!)

No: I'm not hoping for a girl.  I'm hoping for an uneventful, healthy pregnancy and a healthy, sleep loving second child.  It couldn't matter any less to me whether it's a she-baby or a he-baby.  I'd love a brother and best friend and partner in crime for Mister A, I'd love to reuse the boxes and boxes of adorable blue outfits worn once or twice....and I'd love a sweet little girl and a chance to be on Toddlers & Tiaras.  (I'm kidding!  But if I weren't kidding, her stage name would be Tooty, for sure.)  

Yes: We've asked Mister A how he feels about this baby sibling thing.  Since his verbal communication of his feelings is limited to "ba" "ma" "da" "ga" and "pffffffffffffft", he chose to mime out his feelings on the news:
Translation: "What the hay do I know?  I'm a baby!  I don't even know what you're talking about!  Can I have a banana?"

Thursday, August 6, 2009

a tiny bit of news

Not so very long ago, I spent many days in a place of sadness and loss and fear.  I wanted motherhood, I wanted blue eyed babies with my blue eyed J, I wanted giggles and kisses and melt-your-heart smiles.  Two years ago, I couldn't quite imagine that wish finally coming true.

Then came Anderson.  With Anderson came joy and fulfillment and laughter and a love so big I couldn't ever have understood its boundlessness until "we" became "three". 

And now.....
Baby 'Bumblebee' due February 2010.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009


So, wow.  I'm a little in awe of the response from yesterday.  I love that so many of you came out and said hello!  It was a lot of fun to see some old friends, and I'll definitely be adding some new blogs to my list.  (Because, you know, I totally need more ways to spend my wealth of free time.)  I feel a bit of stage fright now.  Like I'd just been cruising along in my car singing along to Hanson something really hip and undorky, and I realized there was a big bus beside me full of (super cool) people listening intently.  Yikes.  I mean, duh, I knew people were reading.  But I was sort of suspecting it was the '5 readers, 145 clicks from the grandmothers' scenario.  That said- I'm glad you are reading!  I love to write (cheap therapy), I love to share about A (while he still allows it), and I especially love that some of you have followed along since ye old sad blog and are now sharing in the amazing happiness that unfolds when one has hope and perseverance.

All right, I'm getting a little verklempt.  Let's get back to your regularly scheduled miscellany, shall we?

I don't fancy myself the museum sort.  Museums bring to mind 8th grade field trips on stuffy buses smelling of sack lunch.  I picture dust and boring paintings and stifling silence.  Just not my cup of tea.  Unless there's a gift shop, then maybe.  But the Austin Children's Museum?  Coolness!  A playdate with three adorable little munchkins and their very sweet moms?  More coolness!  A Children's Museum, I learned this afternoon, isn't stuffy or quiet or boring at all.  If you're A, who many days sees my face and the face of the Target check out lady and that's about it (fine, Oprah's face too), the Children's Museum is pretty much the most stimulating place ever, full of new people to meet.  (He was especially drawn to one tattooed nanny.  Nice choice, kid.)  I had a great time watching him explore and play and occasionally look my way and smile.  Sure, he mostly chewed on a wooden mallet and dragged a stuffed squirrel around by the tail, but he had a great time doing it.  And if you ask me, a measly $6.50 admission fee and $4 parking garage tab are MORE than worth it for some socialization for A and his mama.  I'm shaking my borderline SAD, and that, my friends, is a very good thing!

I told you.  He loved that squirrel.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

copy cat

Yes, that's my cat.  But this post has nothing to do with Ralph.  Or destroyed couches or mutilated, headless rodents.  Yay for that!

I'm the copy cat here, copying Sara - never a bad idea since she's usually doing something fun and creative.  Today, she's sussing out who her blog readers actually are.  I've wondered about this lately.  You see, about 150 people visit my blog each day.  150!  Or maybe it's 5 people, plus A's grandmothers checking 145 times for new A pictures.  That's possible, too.  They love their A.

So I'm curious- who are you?  ("Whooo are you???" Anybody else love the movie 'Drop Dead Gorgeous'?  Are you picturing Denise Richards with a hairbrush right now?  Before she burns up on the Mexican swan float o' fire?  If so, twenty bonus points to YOU for being the coolest blog reader of the day.)  Ahem.  Where was I?  Right.  Who are these people visiting my blog?  Friends, family, Nesties?  Creepy old men?  How did you find me and what keeps you coming back?  Anything in particular you'd like me to share more of?  Less of?  Any burning questions I can answer?  

Come out, whoever you are.  Leave a comment or a question or just a hello so I know who's taking the time to check in on us, for no other reason than to satisfy my inquiring mind.  And block you if you are, indeed, a creepy old man.

Monday, August 3, 2009

10.5 x 2

You know what's a little lot more work than one very active 10.5 month old baby?  A day spent with two very active 10.5 month old babies and two big boys.  Okay, the two big boys weren't much work, thanks to a Wii and the fact that they're generally about the best behaved, coolest pre-teen guys I know.  But the two 10.5 month olds?  They required an extra afternoon caffeine booster.

But aren't they cute?

Saturday, August 1, 2009

a's first popsicle

that's not quite how it works, A...

there you go...

maybe lemon wasn't the ideal "trying a popsicle for the first time" flavor...

And then, on to the pool.  The boy's fearless.  Catch his favorite word midway through the first video.