Brain Lapse

I had something clever and interesting to write about this evening. HAD being the key word there. Past tense. As in, I lost it putting my baby to bed. Apparently, whatever it was that I'd been planning on telling you all about all day decided to fall out of my head while Peter cried and whined and fussed in this evening's installment of the "I don't want to go to bed" show staring my stubborn son. Now where on EARTH could he have picked up stubborn? Sheesh! It's like a battle of mules up there between him and I sometimes and Matt just stands by to play referee.

Anyway, I've been sitting here staring at the blank white box where I'm supposed to type my posts for the better part of 15 minutes and an entire turkey sandwich and still I'm not remembering what it was.

Sorry folks.

Black Friday

You should all be proud of me... I stayed in my house ALL day today. I didn't even go out to walk the dog (on account of it was cold and rainy so Matt went without us.)

If you know anything about me, you'd know that this is a substantial feat for me for a couple of reasons. First of all I L-O-V-E to shop, so it is sort of strange for me to miss the "biggest shopping" day of the year. Not that I've ever been much of a Black Friday madwoman since most of the really really good sales start at stupidly early hours and I just don't do early mornings if I can help it, but I have been known to visit the mall in the afternoon for the start of the holiday shopping season after Thanksgiving. I think my staying home might be an indication of just how lame the shopping opportunities are in this town.

Also, I can go stir crazy very very quickly staying in my own house all day. Seriously. I find a stupid reason to leave my house and run errands almost every day. But sometimes I worry that it makes Peter cranky getting drug around with me all the time. So I'm working on it... the staying home more frequently thing. I'm hoping to start staying home ALL day (besides walking the dog) a minimum of 2 days a week. It's a goal. A lame one maybe, but it's mine.

So anyway, the fact that I was home all day yesterday for the holiday and then I stayed home all day today AND missed all the shopping mayhem seems kind of news worthy to me.

But, the odd part is, Peter seems to be more fussy than usual lately... so maybe he's like his Mama and needs to get out as well.

Giving Thanks

When we first moved to Monterey and were surprised to find small herds of deer frequently wandering down the sidewalk in our neighborhood a friend warned me to be on the lookout for wild turkeys.

I thought she was kidding.

But, then I started going to church over at what used to be Fort Ord and there is a little flock of them that frequent the church lawn. Since its Thanksgiving, here is a picture of some of them taken about a month ago after services.

Let us all hope and pray that they all made it safely through this season, as it is arguably perhaps the most dangerous time of year for their species.

And also because they frequently walk across the roads. Very. Very. Very. Slowly.

In other news, I discovered back at Halloween that I am apparently one of those parents who will, in fact, waste money on an outfit that my child will wear only once. Not to be outdone, um, by myself, this meant that when I saw the "Baby's First Thanksgiving" outfits at Babies R Us, well, I just had to have one for my child. And, for the record, I am remembering on this day, to be thankful that I am able, financially, to be a little frivolous on occasions like this.

And since he will only really ever wear this adorable outfit once, I naturally had to take about 10 billion pictures of him wearing it. (As if I, of all people, EVER need an excuse to take MORE photos.)

Anyway, here is a random sampling:

For some reason, the bib kept ending up turned around like a cape and that pleased the boy a great deal.

Except maybe when he started to see purple spots or something from too much of the flash from my camera. Then he started looking at me like this:

Not to worry though. I just started taking picture of everything else.

We ended up with a lot of guests today. :) We were eleven people total, counting the baby. This is actually one of the best parts, in my opinion, about holidays in the military. That is, there are always a lot of people who are a long way from loved ones who want to get together and celebrate. In the past we've hosted a few times, we've been the guest a few times and we've even spent a few holidays on board the ships. While its a bit odd, at first, being away from family and those traditions, there is something special to be said for the tradition of military people and families coming together to make special memories even when far from wherever their homes might originally be.

So here are some more photos of our celebration:

One of our guests, also named Matt, "introduces" Peter to his younger son, Asher. They see each other each week at church, but let's face it, during social hour there are donuts involved and we can't be sure the boys notice anything besides all the sugar.

Peter spent the meal time playing in his high chair, even though he's not ready to enjoy any of the feast himself:

Everyone (except me of course, because I'm taking the picture,) settling down to eat:

At the back table there is the other Matt, his wife Elissa and their two boys, Isaac and Asher.

At the front table: Peter is behind my Matt, who's next to our friend Melissa. Across from my Matt is Mark, who's next to his girlfriend Nicole and at the "head" of the table is Mark's little brother Chris.

Not that you care.

So let me move on...

Here's one of just our little family:

This is what I am MOST thankful for. I am very blessed in this life overall, and I know that. But I love having my own family. I feel like it's what I've been longing for forever. I LOVE my husband. Today is actually the 7 year anniversary of when we eloped. My husband was the original answer to my prayers. But now, all these years later, I feel so truly blessed that God allowed us to have our son. I LOVE my son. These two boys are my everything.

Today for some reason, aside from a healthy supply of milk and an occasional clean diaper, Peter desired nothing more than to be able to blow raspberries properly himself. He was bubbling spit accordingly all afternoon in his attempts to do it. Here he is watching his Daddy demonstrate the proper technique:

This next one is totally random, but it makes me laugh. After everyone left and the dust settled Matt finally dug into the pies. The dog, meanwhile, held true to form by begging for his share and Peter watched quietly in complete awe of his beloved furry friend:

Here I am shortly before bed and bath time, snuggling my little man:

And finally, one pooped little turkey after a long, fun filled day:

Happy Thanksgiving everyone and God bless!

Dirty Deeds

I realize that I don't talk about our cats very often. Especially since the baby was born, we don't see them all that often and they tend to keep to themselves unless they are hungry and its 4:00 in the morning.

So let me sum them up for you to refresh your memory:

We have 2 beautiful Long Haired Flame Point Kitties that we adopted from a shelter in Georgia.

KC is about a week older than his "brother." He has very thick, plush fur that he has real difficulty keeping clean (especially on his back end,) and crossed eyes. He's obsessed with his food and is fat enough to prove it. He purrs loud enough to shake the whole house when he wants attention. Generally speaking, he's also an asshole. He fights with the dog ALL THE TIME (probably because before the dog, he used to beg for our leftovers,) he beats up on the other cat and even when he comes to you for petting he will randomly swipe at your hand or bite you mid-pet. Finally he's dumb as a rock and he frequently shuts doors behind himself and locks himself into and out of rooms he wants to be in which will be the point of this story in a minute when I get to it.

Chase on the other hand is smaller and very skinny, probably because he doesn't get his fair share of the food. His fur is thinner and shaggier and his tail is about 4 inches longer than it really needs to be. He's very needy and demands huge amounts of love and affection and petting to satisfy him. He hates the dog but prefers to swipe at him from a table as he runs by over any actual confrontation. He's obsessive with his cleanliness, is always grooming himself and will attempt to bury anything he finds on the floor that he feels shouldn't be there. Usually this means he's trying to bury a mess the dog or KC made but he's not specific and I've seen him trying to bury my shoes many times.

So then this morning...

Last night sometime, without us knowing it, the door to the downstairs bathroom (and therefore the litter box) was closed meaning neither kitty could get in to do his business.

Matt first discovered a stinky pile by the back door. (YUCK!) Naturally, he blamed the dog. (That poor dog.)

A while later Matt found a puddle in the middle of the kitchen rug (double yuck) but still he did not realize about the bathroom door.

Finally then, Matt heard a small commotion coming from the dining room near the dog food. When he went to investigate, this is what he found:

Chase, apparently could not hold it any longer and had left his own stinky pile next to the dog's food dish. He had then pulled a large amount of the dog's kibble out of the bowl and attempted to use it to bury his mess.

That's right you read that right.

That cat buried his crap in dog food because he couldn't find anything else to bury it with.



I'm not sure whether to be disgusted or proud.

Chewy

Well, he's either really trying to cut some teeth or else he is part hamster.

The Rock

So this evening while Matt and I were walking the dog we stopped at Matt's friend Jake's house to harass him some. Jake was out in his garage fiddling with his bicycle which has recently become his primary method of transportation to and from school since he killed the engine in his very cool vintage late-model Chevy truck by failing to notice when coolant somehow started leaking into the cylinders.

For the record, I don't know what any of that means, but it sounds bad as far as engines are concerned. And also, its an interesting story because you really gotta hand it to those Marine pilots like Jake because when they outright kill the engines in their very cool vintage Chevy trucks they don't just bite the bullet and take it to a local repair shop. No, instead, they beg a few of their buddies, who by the nature of their jobs in the military have varying levels of experience working on airplane and tank engines and stuff, to help them, as he attempts to do to all the work himself as he REPLACES the ENTIRE engine.

Wow, is all I'm saying.

Anyway, Jake also happens to be the proud Papa of a boisterous bunch of 7 children. Yes you read that right. He has 1-2-3-4-5-6-SEVEN kids. (Wow again, I know.) Because of this, Matt and I often ask him and his AMAZING, awe-inspiring wife, parenting questions when we have some.


So today as we were all standing there chatting about his truck and stuff I looked down at my son in his stroller and noticed that he had somehow managed to pull down his silly fishy hat so that it was eating his entire head and face. Seriously. Where there was supposed to be my baby's face there was just a fleece fish turning slowly and confusedly from side to side. As I jumped to unmask my son, Jake noticed Peter, who he hadn't seen in a while and expressed some surprise at how much the boy has grown. This led naturally to a short conversation on my feeding him and what his own wife has done with all of their children.


After that I asked Jake to name all his children, because other than the oldest two I can never, for the life of me, remember what any of them are called. Then Jake struggled to remember them all before he commented that "Peter" is such a good strong name.

"THE ROCK!" he said and shook his fist powerfully, referencing the meaning of my son's name.

Later, as Matt and I were headed home I started joking that I was going to give up the jokes about Peter's healthy, solid stature leading to his future as a football player in favor of his ending up as a wrestler as per that guy Dwayne Johnson who used to go by "The Rock."

Matt suggested we teach him to say "CAN YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKING?!?" because apparently that is what The Rock used to say.

I honestly have no idea about what The Rock used to say, but mostly all Peter's got cooking these days are some very nasty diapers and I'm not suggesting anybody should willingly smell those.


But, I am intrigued by the wrestling idea though because this week Peter has perfected the art of hurling himself out of his Father's arms and into mine as soon as I come within reach. He's a strong one that child and Matt is nearly powerless to hold him back.

Also, last week Peter and I were playing on the floor and before long he'd pin me down like this:


Just like a little wrestler if I do say so myself.


Now, if only the WWE wasn't just so very very stupid.

Oh Those Baby Blues

So this is Peter making his "Please let me out of my carseat Mommy. Don't you love me Mommy?" face.

I'm just hoping he never learns to use it as a "Please buy me that toy I want Mommy. Don't you love me Mommy?" face because if he does, my bank account is doomed.

The Rivalry

In honor of the big Ohio State vs. Michigan game today (GO BUCKEYES!!) I would like to share with all of you a picture, which I feel, pretty much sums up my feelings toward the whole state of Michigan:



Which is to say that I don't give a damn for it.
:)

In the off chance that you are not well-versed in all things baby, this is Peter's Diaper Genie. In our house, all poopie diapers go straight to M*ch*g*n, which, in my opinion, is probably a whole lot MORE than they deserve.

Since I haven't featured the crazy dog in awhile...

Today as we were driving home from getting our holiday family pictures taken, it started to rain. As it turns out, Brutus has a REAL problem with windshield wipers.

Apparently, they are quite evil.

More Fun under the Coffee Table

After I posted the pictures of Peter's neverending adventures involving rolling under the coffee table his Gramma expressed some sadness that I didn't have video for her. Well, now that a few more weeks have gone by and my little Rolling Stone is getting much faster in his explorations, I do have one.
Enjoy!

Also, for the life of me I just could not understand why he thought it was so stinking cool under there. My husband, however, informed me that he figured it out this morning after joining our boy under the table.
The answer, in fact, is quite simple.... it echoes.
And as you will probably remember from your own childhood, echoes are just plain fun.
PS... Please excuse my Darth Vader style breathing in the background of that video. Sheesh!

Long Day

Let me just start by saying that things with the sleeping, or rather the lack there of did NOT improve after my post last night which meant that today seemed to drag on like an eternity as I was just so darn tired.

So, needless to say when Matt f-i-n-a-l-l-y returned home to me this afternoon I practically threw our son at him so that I could lay on the florr in a fetal position for awhile and rub my tired eyes. When I opened them, what I saw was this:

 My boys. :) Kind of made this day worth it to see them all together like that.

(Also, kudos to Brutus for not flipping out since his baby is apparently attempting to pull the fur off his tail.)

A while later we found ourselves at Island's, one of my preferred restaurants, owing to their enormous fatty burgers and their large baskets of delicious fatty fries that always seem to hit the spot when I've reached my wits end. (As an example, we ate there the night before Peter was born, because, if you remember, I was so very over the whole idea of being pregnant at the time.)

On the way there Peter had himself a full blown earth-shattering end of the world style meltdown. Then at the restaurant Daddy changed him and eventually he stopped being so upset that he actually ate a little and he was okay again, except that it was really his bed time and his bed he was not in. I figured he spends so much time fighting with me not to go to sleep about this time every night that for this one evening he could just hang with us for awhile longer and try to pretend that he was not, in fact, really really sleepy.

See?  That child isn't sleepy at all!

How come I got the unsleepy child?

Ok, I just need to say that I'm beginning to seriously wonder if I'll ever get any sleep again.

We're absolutely moving in the WRONG direction as far as the night time feedings are concerned, with the added bonus of his not wanting to go back to sleep afterward.

He's currently waking up, on average, 4-6 times between 7:30 pm when he goes down and morning, which I consider to be 6:30 am at the absolute earliest but would really rather prefer it to be much later.

For the record, I try not to feed him each time he wakes up. I try not to even pick him up. I just give him his pacifier and his little bunny and I try to soothe him. This works maybe half the time and if it is going to work at all you can completly tell by about 45 seconds into it.

Those other times he screams and hollers like his little world is ending until I pick him up and feed him, change him, rock him, etc... and when I am all done I put him gently down into his crib and he snaps awake and just refuses to go back to sleep usually for at least another 30-45 minutes. Sometimes longer.

In fact I'm only writing this now to give myself something do for a few moments while I wait to see if he's actually down this time or if there is soon going to be more screaming.

So far, so good.

Oh, and he doesn't really nap either, unless I'm holding him and everything is very still and pretty quiet. Heaven forbid I should sneeze or something.

A couple 30 minute naps are the absolute best I can hope for.

How much longer can this go on?

By that, I mean me. How much longer can I go on like this?

Seriously?

I saw these at Kohls today and I just couldn't believe it. Now, granted my dog is already prone to running away, just by his nature, but I'm thinking if I got him one of these he'd take off for good.

A Simple Pleasure

I've managed to blog every single day this month so far and here it is 8:00 pm on the 15th and I can't come up with a thing to talk about.

Alright, that's not entirely true, I can think of two really good topics, but I haven't thought about either of them enough yet to be able to make any sense what so ever, so those are best left alone for now until another time.

But, just a few minutes ago I was taking a very, very hot shower and washing my hair about 4 times, because my psoriasis is absolutely devouring my scalp and also because it just felt so darn good, when it occurred to me that I need to blog today.

So this is all I've got:

What is it about being a mother that just makes a long hot bubbly bath or a psychotically hot shower just about the very best and most wonderful thing on Earth each evening?

Perhaps it is the quiet time alone for a few minutes.

Perhaps it is the fact that for a few moments, at least, nobody is threatening to spit up, puke, drool, gnaw, snot, pee or poop on me.

Or perhaps it is just that I look forward to bathing ALL DAY because, as I may have mentioned, I am absolutely NOT, nor will I ever be, a morning person and I almost never manage to get a shower in the morning before Matt leaves which means that when I do get a shower there is a smallish little man with enormous blue eyes looking up at me through the shower curtain from his little bouncy-chair and it kind of puts a rush on things and ruins the peacefulness of the entire experience.

Yea, I don't know, but man do I really love a good shower or bath at the the end of the day. :)

The Aquarium Again

Today we went down to the aquarium again for a few hours. It was pretty fun seeing Peter study the bright colors of the exhibits.
Although I think if I was 100% honest I think he was the most fascinated with the ceiling and all of its exposed duct work.

I was also kind of sad because the Otter Exhibit is gone and I was really looking forward to seeing again.

Anyway, after a short couple of hours Peter was done...

...so we headed home to watch my Buckeyes squeak one out in overtime against Iowa. Yea!

Lesson Learned... Again

This afternoon Matt took our boy for a couple of hours so that I could run out and do some quick shopping for myself as I can't seem to find anything to wear for our upcoming family pictures.

Yes I know I have an entire closet full of beautiful clothes but my entire body was apparently rearranged by the baby so nothing fits right AND I need something that is not going to clash with Peter's outfit.

That is all beside the point. My point here, is actually completely unrelated to any of that but is this:

After having been nursing for just shy of 4 and a half months I thought I had reached a point where I could leave the house for 2 hours and NOT come home with 2 boulders where my chest is supposed to be and a very wet t-shirt.

Shouldn't my milk supply have regulated by now???

Apparently not, and thank heavens I had a nice, thick sweatshirt on over my t-shirt so nobody in Old Navy and Kohls could have seen the embarrassment.

But, I didn't even go NEAR the baby clothes!!!!!

I thought I was done with the over supply thing.

I mean, granted Peter's been fighting a bug and has been throwing up and filling Pampers at an alarming rate this week so I've been letting him nurse a bit more frequently in order to ensure he doesn't get dehydrated which probably has sent the pumps into over drive or something...

...but seriously. It was only 2 hours!!!

Gross.

A Couple Pictures

Hello everyone! Today I just want to take a quick moment to post two photos.

The first is Peter playing with his toys, including particularly the baby block set that had him so upset the other night.
As you can see, he seems to have gotten over it and is really quite happy.

Or else he has already learned to smile when Mommy points her little grey box at him and the bright light flashes in his face as it goes "Bee-beep CLICK."


Also, we got to use his new Big Boy (or our case, Big Baby... he still had 4 pounds left in the infant one but is within a half inch of the maximum height so he had to move up) car seat this afternoon when we ran up the street to the Farmer's Market to pick up eggs and lettuce.

Peter seemed pretty much indifferent except for the following:

1. Mommy put his cold weather suit on over his Froggy Footie Jammies, allowing the Froggy Footies to stick out and look completely silly. This also really added to the boys recently developing fascination with his own feet.

2. From the new seat he could "almost" get a good view out the window at the scenery passing by. ("Almost" because without the sunshade of his old car seat, he spent most of the ride squinting as the sun shone in the windows and tried to blind him.

3. Mommy was making a big deal about the new seat and kept taking his picture, so obviously he insisted on smiling when he heard the "Bee-Beep Click" sound.

Today

Today was Veteran's Day.

Duh, you all probably knew that.

What you might not know is that even though Matt did not have class today he had a ton of group work to do so he left at 9 am for school and didn't come home until almost 2 pm. How this is a day off for him is completely beyond me. Sometimes I wonder about the professors at this school. Do they even realize their students are military officers?

Anyway, I spent the time Matt was gone time trying to get started on baby proofing while Peter did his best not to let me by drooling, spitting up, rolling places he doesn't need to be, whining and occasionally screaming at me. Today, baby proofing meant mostly cleaning out drawers that he might get into and emptying off tables of anything that he might destroy. I also put plugs in all the outlets so next I need to bolt two shelves to the wall, obtain baby gates for the stairs and install about 5 million of those cabinet latch things. Fun times and very much a work in progress

When Matt did finally get home he suggested that we go to Applebee's for lunch since Active Duty Military could eat for free today.

YEA RIGHT!

There is only one Applebee's "near" here (and by near I mean it is 20 miles away) and let me just tell you that is was so crowded OUTSIDE of the building that we just kept right on driving and didn't even bother going in.

We ended up instead at Chevy's for Mexican which should have been one of the best things ever except that my Enchiladas had way too much hot sauce on top and gave I have killer heart burn.

Oh well.

I am choosing to believe that this was God's way of reminding me that I do not need all the extra non-nutrition (calories, fat, grease, cholesterol, etc) that I would have gotten had I actually been able to finish my lunch.

In other news today, Peter's new car seat arrived today. My life of ease taking him shopping and to church is now OVER as he no longer comes in a handy-dandy (although stupidly heavy) carrying case. While I am thrilled that he is thriving so thoroughly, I would still like to know what on earth happened to the squishy little newborn they handed me four months ago.

Never, not is a million zillion trillion years would I have believed you last July if you told me that come November I'd be baby proofing and that my teensy little lad would have outgrown his infant seat.

New Toys

The other day, while I was on Amazon buying Peter's convertible car seat Matt suggested we pick up a few more toys for him since the ones he has already seem to bore him a little. Not wanting to spoil the boy, but also not wanting him to go crazy with boredom we ordered Sophie the Giraffe (which pops up as suggestion every time you search for any baby items,) Fisher Price's Baby's First Blocks (which doubles as a shape sorting set,) a Baby Einstein Ball and a Baby Einstein piano.

Everything but the ball and the car seat arrived today:

The Giraffe is adorable, I have to admit. A girl at church had one for her daughter once and it looked like such a nice, simple, classic baby toy that when I saw them online I instantly felt we needed one, even though it costs more than it probably should.

I should have known better. At church I was alerted to the Giraffe's presence because when the little baby gnawed on the Giraffe's head it let out a loud squeak which echoed through the sanctuary and made her (and me) giggle a lot. While Peter seems to enjoy gnawing on old Sophie there, the resulting squeaking is turning out to be a bit of a problem since, to the Dog, it sounds an AWFUL lot like one of his chew toys. Call me crazy here, but I'm thinking my son and my Dog probably should NOT share chew toys.

The piano is great (even though I'm not really a fan of the Baby Einstein franchise) and has lots of different features that Peter can grow into. So far, he mostly listened to the music while he stared at the lights and drooled a lot in effort as he tried to mash the keys but succeeded only in pushing the entire toy out of his own reach.

On the other hand, the little block set hasn't made it into any pictures yet because so far it has succeeded only in pissing off my 4 month old. First he couldn't seem to hold onto the blocks and he cried. Then he couldn't get them into his mouth satisfactorily and he cried. Next the block bucket was in his way and kept him from rolling over where he wanted which caused QUITE a to do, so naturally, he cried. Once we resolved that issue, he happily held and studied the yellow bucket lid which has the shape sorting holes in it and everything was well and good for awhile until one of Peter's hands went through the circle shaped hole and he couldn't get it out and everything was just bad again so, you guessed it, Peter cried. We'll have to try that one out again another day.

Church Humor

So yesterday we were standing during the final moments of mass. We'd said our final "Thanks be to God" and the band...

Yes our parish has a band! No awful out-of-tune organ music here! Isn't that progressive and AWESOME of us? I didn't actually know there were progressive awesome Catholic parishes, but we found one. Yea.

But, um, where was I?

Oh...

...and the band was starting up the final song. Matt was holding the baby (who was trying desperately to escape) and I was flipping quickly through the Music Edition searching for the correct page and song. As I found the song I waited and tried to find my place (a feat which is often difficult since our Worship Leader, Dave, has a rather free way of "interpreting" rhythms. And by that I mean he hardly pays attention to what is written down at all and just does his own, usually strangely syncopated, thing,) I sang a few words than stopped again because the song was pretty awful sounding.

Me: "What IS this song? It sounds like something you might hear in a terrible
Broadway show."

(As I said it, I made jazz hands* and grinned stupidly at my husband.)

Matt** looked back at me and asked: "What is that supposed to be? "Spiritual" Fingers?"

:)


*And now for those of you who don't get it.....

Please note, "jazz hands" has also come to be known as "spirit fingers."

:(

As you, the reader, may or may not know: jazz hands, are when you spread your fingers wide

and shake or shimmy your hand, palm facing forward, at your audience like a performer on Broadway might. As a child who spent many years in dance lessons, cheerleading and color guard, I've been making jazz hands for years. However, several years ago a movie about cheerleading came out (don't get me wrong here, its a pretty entertaining flick) and RENAMED jazz hands as "Spirit Fingers." (GASP!) Because, you know, cheerleaders got spirit, yes they do, cheerleaders got spirit... HOW 'BOUT YOU?!?!

Some people might argue that with jazz hands you shimmy your whole hand, but with spirit fingers
you shimmy just your fingers, but BASICALLY they are the SAME move.

So you see, its a pun. Church being spiritual and all that.

I wonder if by explaining it, I am making it no longer funny?

Oh well.



**Also, it needs to be noted that while my spouse often says clever things like this and makes me chuckle quite a lot, he gets very annoyed that I will usually continue to relive the joke and giggle for days afterward before eventually posting about it on this blog, thus annoying and also embarrassing him further. However, a hundred years ago when Matt and I were a very new couple, my Aunt told me that if you still laugh at his dumb jokes YEARS later, then you know you're with the right guy. (Proof positive Aunt Jeannine.)

Upright

So, he can't yet get to this position on his own, but if you sit him up, he's learned to use to his arms for balance and stay there.

Next step: crawling.

Crap.

Our way with words

Sometimes I wonder what it's going to be like when Peter learns to talk. I suppose this is probably something all parents wonder about, especially when their child makes a lot of really random noises all the time for seemingly no reason at all.

These days, Peter's vocabulary mainly consists of whining noises, which isn't too surprising since when he was brand new he much preferred fussing to get his needs met, as opposed to crying. By now, let's just say he has practically perfected his whine.

"EEeeeeehhhhh. EEEEEEEEEEEEEhhhhh! Neeeeeh. EEEEEEEMMMM! EEEEEEEEEEEEHHHH! EEeeeeeeggggggghhhhh"

I listen to it ALL. DAY. LONG.

And frankly, sometimes I sort of wish he'd just cry.

Don't get me wrong, he does that too, when he's really upset or really angry or really hungry or whatever, but the rest of the time he just whines. ALL the rest of the time.

It seems like he just does it to hear himself make noise.

Which is ironic, I guess because I've been accused of talking just to hear myself talk before many times. Not that anyone ever listens. Which is, I suppose why I became a teacher. And also probably why I started a blog.

Anyway.

Recently, Peter also learned to squeal and screech in delight which at least adds some spice to the audio mix around here.

But still, listening to Peter whine "EEEeeeeeeeeh!!!" while I type this has sort of got me to wondering about when he'll learn to talk. Obviously I know that this is not something I can expect for at least a year (at a minimum,) more likely it will be 18 months to two more years, but I still can't help wondering about how it will go.

I want to know what his little speaking voice will sound like. And I absolutely can't wait to hear him mess up words.

That statement sounds kind of odd, but what you have to understand is that Matt and I waited a LONG time to have children. And during all those years that we were waiting for the time to be right for us, many of our friends were having children themselves. And since we actually do rather like children we tended to pick up on stuff that went on in their lives... particularly when it came to their kids early talking mistakes.

Cause its just so darn cute.

Some examples:

My friend Rose's daughter went through this odd little faze where all she wanted to do was clean stuff up. She'd pick everything up and put it in the trash, except she'd call it the "Traff." She'd also get wipeys and try to scrub everything except she called them "Woppies."

Rose's daughter is now like 10, but Matt and I still call the baby wipes "Woppies" and occasionally put things in the "traff."

Last year another friend of mine, Nikki, had a daughter who was also going through that early talking stage. That child would say the most amazing things. Most notably, she was forever trying to put on her mother's shoes, which, since it was San Diego, were usually flip flops that the baby referred to adamantly as "FEE FOPS!!!"

Cracked me right up.

There was also this one evening I was over there at dinner and the baby was pitching a fit until Nikki was finally like "What? Just tell me what you want?" And I swear the little girl, who was only around a year and a half old at the time, stopped and thought for a moment and then requested a "Pa-sickle." Nikki looked at me and I looked at her. "Bicycle?" I guessed. Nikki shook her head and thought for a moment then asked "Popsicle? You want a popsicle?" and her baby nodded.

And so naturally Matt and I often now refer to our own icy snacks as "pa-sickles" and our summertime footwear as "fee fops."

It's like an epidemic.

Several times in the two years that I've been reading her blog, Lori has spoken about her older son's own adorable manner of speaking and she mentioned how he calls a cookie a "tookie."

Naturally, just the other day Matt made us a batch of home made chocolate chip "tookies."

Which is all well and good and fun and entertaining except that random strangers think we're strange and give us funny looks when we're at the store and I remind my husband that we need to pick up another box of "woppies," and can he please grab another package of "tookies."

Combine that with our love of mispronouncing all the silent letters in other words, like Baby Ba-jorn, Fa-jitas and P-sychiatrist and it makes me worry a bit about the words Peter is going to grow up learning and thinking are correct.

It's potentially going to be awfully embarrassing in his Kindergarten Parent Teacher Conferences explaining that our son does not actually have a hearing or speech problem, he just has two really weird parents.

Ten Little Piggies

And they're the cutest little piggies I've ever seen.

Swinger

I used to enjoy putting my son in his swing because he would sit in it peacefully, and happily and then eventually drift off to sleep.

Not anymore.

Now when I put him in there he does this:



You'll notice of course while he is overflowing with the HAPPINESS there is nothing peaceful or sleepy about him.

He's like a crazy child.

Yea, yea, yea... I'm sure he DOES get that from me too.

Also: please note that I HATE that my son is wearing only a diaper in this video. With apologies to any mother who ever allowed their children to hang out in diapers alone, I HATE it. To me, and I already said I apologize, so please don't go getting all offended, a baby wearing nothing but a diaper just screams white trash.

Seriously.

Ick.

But, this video was taken on Monday morning and for some reason it was really really hot on Monday. (Or maybe I just had a fever, I'm not really sure.) So Peter seemed all hot and sweaty as he was rolling around the house that morning, and then, as has become his habit of each and every single morning lately, he crapped all out of his diaper and all over himself.

So that day, I took his clothes off and just embraced the white-trashiness, because I didn't feel like forcing the squirmy little lad into another outfit only to have to drag it back over his head a few moments later when he yet again decided to test the maximum capacity of his Pamper.
*shudder*

I'll try not to let it happen again.

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

As I mentioned yesterday Peter has discovered that it is "fun" to roll under the coffee table.

I have no idea why he thinks so, except maybe that it is new and different and also it makes it exceedingly difficult for Mommy to get to him.

So, as is the norm, he starts out on a blanket, surrounding by a vast array of toys and first he would do something like this.

"Gnaw, drool, gnaw, gnaw, drool...."

Then eventually he'd grow tired of the 25 toys surrounding him and Mama would look away for a moment and the next thing she knew he'd be like this...

...and boy was he ever happy about it. Naturally then, since rolling that far had been so much fun he just kept right on going.

At this point he'd stop for several moments to giggle insanely at, well, nothing in particular except maybe the very amusing underside of the coffee table. Then he'd watch TV for awhile.

But soon, before long he was off for some more.

Not to worry. Soon he'd be all the way under and Mama could just retrieve him from the other side. Right?

Or, maybe not.

Stupid leg, getting in his way like that.

Not that he seemed to mind....

...at first.

See how happy and proud of himself he is? Yea well, that didn't last. After a few moments, realizing he was stuck (lest he should have to roll back in the direction he started from) he inevitably started to make that really lovely fussy baby, incessant whining noise that tends to make my brain turn to mush and my eyes go crossed.

So I'd sweep into rescue him and place him safely back on the blanket with his toys.

And then the whole thing would start over again.

Speaking of that that, I have to be going because, you guessed it, he's at it again. (Only now he's learned to take a toy along with him.)

Snugglebug

Summing up the way things are going today...

I'm still trying to fight off the sniffles and now I think Peter is too because aside from an adventurous hour this morning where he learned how to roll himself under the coffee table (over and over and over again) and eating occasionally, this is what he's been doing today:



Like his Mama, apparently, when he doesn't feel well all he wants to do is cuddle up with something soft and sleep.

That's my boy. :)

Diaper Changing with Daddy

I could write something about this annoying cold I seem to have aquired, but you don't want to hear about that.

I could also write something about how annoying daylight savings time is once you get over the initial joy on Sunday morning that you have an extra hour to get ready for church... like when reality sets in and its dark at 5:00 pm and your baby crashes out by 6:30 that night only to joyfully wake you at 6:30 am the following morning.

That is just plain unacceptable.

But I won't. Instead I have some pictures to share which will be of a much more entertaining nature, hopefully, than my complaining.

So there we were, last week, cleaning up the kitchen one night after dinner. Peter was sitting in his bouncy chair on the kitchen counter drooling and fussing as per usual. Then he started flaring his little nostrils with effort, which usually means I new diaper will be called for pretty soon.

Matt grabbed a chip clip off of the counter to protect himself from the "aroma." Then he took the baby upstairs to change him:





My nose hurts just looking at those pictures.

Four Months!

Dear sweet crazy boy of mine,

Today you are four months old so after church this afternoon I tried and tried to get a cute photo of you but you weren't having any of it. I think it is probably because you used up all of your good behavior for today during mass (and thank you for that because if we'd had a repeat performance of last week I just don't know what I would have done.) In the end, the only way I could make you happy long enough to get a good shot was to take your shoes off of your feet and let you play with them.

That wasn't hard, they are still way too big and tend to fall off all the time, but since I found them (and another similar pair only with blue) on the clearance rack at Old Navy for a whopping $2.44 each, I simply could not resist.

Anyway, I can't believe that you are already 1/3 of a year old. Time seems to be screwing with me these days as I feel like I've known you forever but at the same time that we've only just begun.

I would like to formally renew my request that you slow down on the growing up though because as I look at the picture above I have a really hard time even recognizing you as the same squishy little baby they handed me back at the beginning of July. I mean, yes I know progress and development is awesome, and I'm very proud of all you've learned so far... but, um, you're hard enough to keep track of what with all the rolling, so do you think maybe you can please hold off on the crawling for a while? Please?

Okay, well, we'll see.

I love you baby.