My blue eyed baby

What a difference in just 17 short weeks.

Doesn't hurt that mama got a new lens for Christmas.


Two-Thousand Eleven; Resolution(s)

Since a new year is impending, I actually think I will make some promises for improvement.  Normally I skip that part because I know I won't follow through, but maybe if I write them down for the entire Internet to see, they might stand a chance. 

  1. Lose (more) weight.  Clearly, gaining and birthing baby weight (and then some) in 2010 was not enough because, for Christmas, my sister bought me shirts in sizes so big, I don't even know what they are.  I've vented to everyone who would listen in real life and on Twitter about this already.  THEN, she followed it up with "they may be a little big, but maybe they'll shrink in the wash".  As a woman, it's terribly insulting for someone to not only buy me clothes that are too big, but clothes that are many sizes too big.  If my sister held up this shirt and thought, "Yes, that looks like Sara's size", then clearly it's time to change her image of me.  As a sidebar, my husband said he will be buying only size small or extra-small from here on out.
  2. Get outside of my comfort zone.  Translation:  Leave the house with both children.  Carter is old enough now that he needs to go places and experience things.  It's so easy for us to stay home because it's easy, but in 2011, I want to flush easy.  I don't necessarily want to trade it for impossible, but I do think the more we go and do, the more likely my kids will learn how to act in public.  Or not.  But, in any case, we're going places in 2011. 
  3. Write more.
  4. Photograph more.
  5. Get control of my kitchen chaos/lack of storage hell.  If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about.  Two decidedly NOT type-A's live in this house, ifyouknowwhatImean.


Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, from our family to yours!

Photo dump

I've been photo-hoarding.... now, I will dump.

These were from his "newborn" photo shoot.
(That means I took advantage of him during nap time.  He was 2.5 weeks old.)
My sweet, big boy sometime around 21 months. 

My heart!

And my soul.
He is SUCH a happy baby.  3 months

Merry Christmas, baby.  3.5 months

He's been so good with the tree... he was just really not interested in pictures for his mother.  Go figure.

SWEETEST.  Carter LOVES his brother.


cb x 2

I know, I know.  I had a baby and fell off the world.

Somedays, it does actually feel like that.  My weekdays are such a race, such an excercise in precision- it's exhausting.  But that's what having two under two (not for much longer!) and working an hour away from home with two stops for childcare will get you.

I keep thinking about how fast things change.  How fast newborns turn into toddlers.  How fast skinny turns to fat... on the BABIES- quit imagining what I must look like!

This time last year, Carter was a relatively new crawler starting a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving.  That just blows my mind.  He couldn't even WALK this time last year, and wouldn't for a few more months.  And now? NOW?  He has a baby brother.  And he RUNS.  And he JUMPS.  And he TWIRLS.  OhmygoodnesshowIlovethatkid.

So, status update- Carter is 23 months old.  He will be two in less than a month.  Yes, TWO.  He wears 3T shirts and 2T pants.  And size 7-8 shoes (just depends on if they have EXTRA WIDE or not).  He loves to sing his ABC's- he hits the high points.  He loves Dora and Diego and the Backyardigans and loves to dance, sing and clap along with them.  He is SO smart and so dang cute. 

Cooper is a little over three months old and is wearing 0-3 month clothes comfortably and half wearing-half swimming in 3-6 month clothes.  He is such a smiling, laid-back, happy baby.  He also loves to "talk", which is something neither C or I remember Carter doing- at least not this much.  He sleeps pretty much all night- at least until 3:30 or 4 anyway, then if he's lucky, he ends up snuggling with Mama.  He is so sweet and so content.

I paint a pretty picture of how perfect everything is, but writing about the ugly part isn't any fun.  How daycare gets the best part of Carter's day- we get tired and hungry and therefore, CRANKY Carter.  How he can pitch a fit like nobody's business or how "mine" is usually his favorite word.  How Cooper has green poo and my neuroses with it.  How the house is never clean, the laundry is never finished and the meals are never ready.  But...

I'd much rather talk about the love affair between he and his daddy.  I can watch C love that boy for hours on end.  They play and giggle and roll around together in tickle fits and it makes my heart sing.  Those best things are free and I'm so blessed to have them in my life.

I keep trying to write posts because I have so much I want to write down so I can remember how sweet this time in my life is.  There are so many details I know I'm forgetting on a daily basis and that breaks my heart.  I'm going to try to write more- especially since I'm back at work and may be able to steal a moment or two to write.  Pictures will come too. 

These boys, they are my heart and my soul.  That, I will never forget.


I'm on maternity leave, remember?

Where do I even begin?

Maternity leave makes me feel like a horrible mother.  There, that's a good place to start.

I feel like a "good" mother would relish this time to have both of their children 100% of the time and spend so much quality time together.  I feel like a "good" mother doesn't look this forward to nap time or bedtime or any other "quiet" time.  My children are great so why do I want to lock myself in the bathroom just to have some peace?

This makes me feel like a bad mom.  Like maybe I wasn't meant for kids even though I cannot imagine my life any other way.  My return to work is looming and I'm not looking forward to it because I know I will long to be at home with both of my kids instead of allowing someone else to see their smiles and hear their laughter.  Where is the balance?  Where is the fairness?  Why do I feel like absolute shit for feeling like this?

I know I'm not a bad mom.  My kids are happy, healthy and well adjusted, albeit a little bit bored because their mother doesn't know how to handle both of them in public.  Oh and dirty because when bath time comes, the baby is crying and all I hear is the "NO!" chorus, so the reality of going to bed a little bit dirty isn't really that bad.

I keep thinking that tomorrow I'll get it together.  But, tomorrow comes and my mom comes over and my toddler gets so excited to see her because he knows he'll get to go outside and throw rocks and get dirty and be a boy.  And then he cries when she leaves because we all know I'm no fun.

Let's all say it together.

I'm.  No.  Fun.


CB x 2

Carter and Cooper
Everyone has been asking how Carter's done with the new addition of a baby brother.  I joked before I had Cooper that we were going to ruin Carter's life and I guess on some level, I really thought so.  But, I'm happy to report, we haven't.  At least I don't think so.

"Bayyybee" is the first thing Carter says in the morning.  He loves seeing his baby brother and has learned to gently soothe the baby by patting and saying "heyyyyy", just like mama.  I've been very surprised and very happy to see the transition happen.

I won't lie though, the first couple of weeks were tough.  Carter was almost angry in his actions.  Lots of "NO!", complete with slapping at us.  C was home from work the first week, but when he went back on week two, I implemented time out and Carter got more of what he really needed and wanted-- one on one time with me.  We had both missed it, I think.  Slowly but surely, my sweet boy returned.  Don't get me wrong, he's still runs balls to the wall while his eyes are open, but at least there's no anger-- just all boy.

As for me, I'm exhausted.  Not because the baby keeps me up, because he doesn't (hate me if you must).  It's more of having two boys all by myself.  Thank goodness the baby naps a lot during the day still.  And, I LIVE for Carter's nap time.  That is something that will not be missed!  It's really my only down time until bedtime.  It's my time to shower or get dinner together or nap (which I've done once but say I'm going to do every day).  C had to work a lot over the weekend and I got a taste of what my reality could be... I was so happy to have him home. I joke that there's no rest and recovery during this maternity leave... wait, that's not a joke. 

I have gained the utmost respect for a) single mother's who do it all, all the time and b) stay at home mom's.  I feel guilty for wanting a break- shouldn't I WANT to be with my kids all the time?  I won't go so far as to say I want to go back to work, because that would be a lie, but man.... help sure would be nice during the waking hours.

And, on another note, both boys were weighed yesterday.  Carter:  31lbs & 33.5" tall.  Cooper:  7lbs 15oz!  Whooooo for mama!


Cooper's Here!

So, a little over a week ago, I was bitching about being 40 weeks pregnant.  Not for long though.  Cooper Ryan arrived on September 02, 2010 (90210, for those of you playing along) at 1:20pm.  He was 7lbs 5oz and 19 inches of pure perfection. He wasn't even breech like he'd been the whole pregnancy... somehow he'd turned and I hadn't noticed.  Apparently, he got a big gulp of fluid in his lungs right before he came out and was having a little trouble "transitioning" to oxygen, so he had to spend several hours in the NICU for observation.  His breathing was very rapid, but he quickly go the hang of it.  When the nurse brought him to me (around 6pm), she said, "He's VERY awake and VERY hungry!"  He was already chewing on his little hands like a feign.  Lucky for me, he nursed like a champ from the word go and has NO signs of tongue tie.  Yayyyyy!  On Friday, they told me that he was Coombs positive, which meant that some of my blood (O+) and his blood (A+) had mixed so he had a touch of jaundice while his body filtered out my blood cells.  So, we had to do some photo-therapy, but only Friday night.  It was still a long night because he couldn't rest in there- no swaddling and no nursing, so a kind nurse gave us a pacifier which helped a ton. 

He is a completely different newborn than Carter was.  He actually sleeps and eats the way a typical newborn should-- a lot!  Carter was so hungry from not being able to nurse that he never rested.  Poor baby.  Cooper is, knock on wood, easy. 

Here are some pictures from the day. Yes, I put on makeup and fixed my hair before surgery.  I refused to look like poo on my big day.

40 weeks
What I really felt like

In surgery.  Very serious stuff.
Cooper Ryan - mind the modesty patch.

A little bili-light on those perfect piggies.  
Look!  I haz BAY-BEE!
Pure perfection.  What a blessing!


Tomorrow, I'll be 40 weeks pregnant.

That is something I never thought I would say.  Ever.  Not with this pregnancy and not with Carter.  But, tomorrow, I will be 40 weeks pregnant with another breech baby boy.  Dejavu anyone? Holy mother of sweet baby Jesus on the cross. 

Tomorrow, I will give birth to a fuller-than-full term infant.  He'll probably wear 3-6 month clothes and size 2 diapers.  Not really.  No one is concerned about his size except his mother who is sick and tired of carrying him around.

I've already ranted via Twitter because I don't think anyone reads this anymore, but due to an insurance/scheduling/panic-inducing snafu, my previously scheduled c-section which was to have occurred on Monday, 8/30, was re-scheduled to tomorrow.  At a different hospital.  Nothing like waiting til the last minute, huh?  Yeah, that's what this baby said, too.

I had an NST (non-stress test) yesterday at my appointment and was pleased to see that I was contracting, but they weren't strong enough for me to feel.  Today, I can feel them, but they're irregular and usually correspond with the feeling of feet in my crotch.  So, I'm trying to stay off my feet as much as possible.  My poor son has watched entirely too much tv today and is currently dancing to Yo Gabba Gabba.  WHAT HAVE I DONE???

So, my plans for the evening include a decent home-cooked meal, finishing last-minute packing and getting a good night's sleep.  Then tomorrow, I will starve and have unquenchable thirst until after this sweet baby is forcibly removed from my body around noon.

Follow me on Twitter for updates.  There's a link on my sidebar.


38 weeks

Some days I come here just to see how many days I have left.  The counter says 14, but my section is scheduled three days prior, so 11.  Eleven days left.  It sounds so close, yet seems so far away.

I've never been this pregnant before.


Life, daily

I wake before the sun, before my husband, before my son.  I shower and dress, while gently waking the men in my life to start their days.  Waking Carter is a love/hate act.  He is so content and so deeply asleep that some mornings, I have to lift him from his crib to wake his sleepy head.  Some mornings, he rises to greet me.  I relish in his baby-ness.  His soft, rubbery belly skin, his delicious toes and chubby hands.  This baby, half me, half him, is amazing. 

I change a diaper, put on some clothes and his day starts.  These days, he's like a little Linus, insisting on taking his blanket with him most everywhere until he forgets about it, abandoned on the floor.  His hair is unruly because his father wants a "professional" to cut it, insists it's time.  But... my baby.

The drive to work is getting increasingly difficult.  An hour in the car with an infant is easy- make sure their fed and changed and undoubtedly, sleep will follow.   An hour with a toddler requires toys and songs and the tickle monster.  I keep my eye on him via a special "rear seat mirror" and try my best to keep him entertained. 

When we make the turn to his sitter's home, the rising sun blinds us both.  I sing, "Hi Sunshine!  Good morning Sun!" And he waves, while squinting and smiling.  These little moments are ones I do not want to forget.  I want to lock them safely away so I can revist them at less happy times.

The drive home is much the same, except most days he's worn out from playing and laughing and running and squealing the day away.  A two-hour nap is not enough; the sandman will catch him in the car, too.  It makes me happy that he is at a place now where he plays so hard that he cannot help but collapse from sheer exhaustion. 

At home, evenings are a race.  Dinner, bath, bed.  He relishes in "bathtime with Melmo" (he has an Elmo bathmat) and loves the water.  Last night, in fact, he dumped a bucket of it on me.  Stinker.  His feelings are so tender now that even a harsh, "No Sir!" makes his lip quiver and tears come.  He usually comes right back for a hug and reassurance that he is still loved. 

Footy pj's are a year-round staple.  He refuses to sleep under a blanket, so, long sleeves and feet it is.  He is so adorable, so delightfully squishy in them.  He has his night-night milk and it's off to bed he goes.  Where he makes not even a whimper, just rolls over to slumber.  He's been sleeping with a humidifier due to a little cough, but I think it's almost time to switch back to a white-noise machine.  I love that the noises of an awake house do not disturb him if we add a little hum to his room.

His happiness is intoxicating and addictive.  His smiles light up a room and his snuggles.... they are incomparable. 

Soon, things will change.  Time will not be as abundant for him and sharing will be required.  I worry about him and the impending adjustment.  I worry that I'm not enough for two, that one is all my heart can handle.  But, I know that's not true.  I know it will grow.  I know we will all adjust.  We will be fine.


Adventures in Potty Training, sort of

So, a couple of weeks ago, I bought Carter a potty chair.  C kind of thought I was crazy but I figure it's never really too early for a kid to start learning.  So, I told my sitter about his sometimes-dry morning diapers and she encouraged me to let him sit on his potty.  I did and he peed.  We successfully did that 2 or three times- once after a nap, even.  Each time we cheered and danced and then I poured it in the toilet and let him flush while we said, "Bye bye, tee-tee!" 

Then, this morning.  Things started off well, but he wasn't really on the seat good and he was kind of trickling out of the reservoir.  So, I readjusted him.  Then, he dropped his plastic ball in between his legs.  Then he tried to retrieve it and each time I said "No baby, you can't have your ball...." (because it's covered in pee but I don't want to tell you it's dirty because I don't want you to think pee is a bad thing).  So, he got up and went and plopped down against the tub and cried.  And peed.  All over my bath mat. 

I knew things were going too well.... Monday's sometimes just start in the pisser. 


35 weeks

I think we're doing alright here at 35 weeks.  I've slowed down a lot and my husband picks up a ton of slack.  But, all in all, I'm ok. 

Carter is almost 19 months old.... unbelievable.  He's grown so much and is such a big boy.  I'm so proud and just a little bit smitten.  I sure hope Small Fry measures up!


Where is the easy button?

As of today, I'm 33 weeks pregnant.  That means there's seven weeks left til my due date and about 6.5 weeks til my c-section.  I'm not terribly uncomfortable yet, although I think I did have some contractions yesterday due to maybe not getting enough water and maybe the super spicy Chinese food I had for lunch.  Or, maybe the baby was just pushing my belly in new and painful positions.  Who knows.  I probably wouldn't know a contraction if it bit me on the ass, even though I had a few (verified by the monitor) after my water broke with Carter, prior to the c-section.  In any case, my hips don't hurt, my boobs aren't sore, I'm sleeping fine and my general discomfort is more from my size than anything. 

Since I'm updating on the status of the baby, my doctor felt around on Tuesday and said she thinks he's probably breech too.  Apparently, my kids are ready to face the world head on-- and butt first.  Ha.  My c-section is tentatively scheduled for August 30 at 7:15am.  I'm getting ready to fax in my FMLA paper work -- everything is getting close....  it snuck up on me. 

At home, I've done nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.  Zero.  I haven't washed baby clothes, nor have I even organized them.  The biggest thing I haven't done is prepare a nursery or even clean out the room that will be the nursery.  And believe me, it needs cleaning out.  Currently, it's full of junk from the house that we stashed in there when we laid the tile in the kitchen/office.  With Carter, I was crazy pregnant hormone lady who HAD to have a nursery ready to go-- and then we didn't use it until he was maybe nine months old.  I know the new baby will sleep in our room, too so I'm not stressed about having a nursery all ready to go, but I do need somewhere to put clothes away and stash extra diapers. 

I had a baby shower at my mom's this past weekend and got some lovely things.  My kids are so blessed to have people who care so much for their parents and them- even before birth.  We're so spoiled, and in turn blessed to the highest degree.

I'm still searching for the easy button when it comes to making childcare decisions for Carter.  His daycare situation is better, but I have no plans to take him back there after my maternity leave, nor will the new baby go there.  I've toured a daycare closer to home that I would like to enroll him in while I'm on leave so he can get out of the house and do something instead of being stuck with a grouchy, sleep-deprived mom 24/7.  He deserves better than that!  I also have a friend in the town I work that is keeping kids in her house now who said she'd be happy to keep him until I go on leave if things go south at my current daycare-- but I worry that the changes would be too much for him to handle.  Not only am I potentially ruining his life by giving him a brother, but I don't want him to think I'm shuffling from here to there to there because I don't want him.  I know it's silly and he'd probably adjust just fine, so I'm blaming my hormones.  In any case, I'm finding it incredibly hard to make any decisions regarding him right now.  The thought of upsetting him hurts my heart. 

Also, what if I go in to labor prior to my scheduled date?  That's very probable since Carter came 2.5 weeks early and my scheduled date is only three days before my actual due date.  In a perfect (miserable) world, everything would go exactly as planned and my mom would stay at the house with Carter while we left in the wee morning hours to go have a baby.  By the time he woke up, we'd be ready for him to visit and he'd be able to play til his heart was content with his grandma (who is way more fun than mom and dad).  But, if that doesn't happen, I guess we just take him to the hospital with us.  And if no one can get there in time to watch him, I'll go through a c-section alone while C is with Carter.  It won't be the end of the world, but it's causing me anxiety.  I told C last night that I'm more concerned about making sure Carter is happy and cared for than I am about giving birth.  My how priorities change.



It's been a while since I've said it

Daycare is one of the hardest, most stressful parts of being a working mom.  I was wrong to think that mine would be a one-size-fits-all ages and stages.  I was wrong to think that just because one class was ok that another would be too.  When you lose confidence in the people you are paying to take care of your child for 8-9 hours a day, it's time to make a change. 

If only it were that simple.


About a bathroom.

I have a theory about my office bathroom (newly remodeled).  There are three main stalls and then a couple of handicapped stalls that no one uses because they were finished after the main three and frankly, I don't know if they are actually finished or not.  So, we have the main three stalls.  All identical, yet each with their own... "characteristics".

There is the one on the end against the wall, which is kind of dark and has the fart fan directly above it.  Clearly, the people who use this stall prefer their privacy (ifyouknowwhatimean).  Then, there's the middle stall (which I'll come back to) and the first stall.  Forget that the first stall is connected to the handicapped stalls because again, no one uses them so they may as well not even exist.  The first stall is HIGH TRAFFIC and preferred.  I wish I knew the psychology behind it because I'm sure there is some.  I guess no one wants to sit next to a pooper. 

So, the majority of the people (I'm talking 99%) go in the first stall unless it's occupied and then they choose the last stall.  What does that leave?  That's right.  MY STALL.  The perfectly good, perfectly unused middle stall. 

A couple of months ago, the germaphobe in me (cultivated by my husband) realized that the middle stall was always empty.  So, I started using it.  Literally, I've been out of the office for a doctor's appointment all morning, come in around lunch and the seat is still up from the previous night's toilet cleaning.  NO ONE USES MY STALL BUT ME.  In an office, do you realize how awesome that is?  AND, if anyone else does use it, the traffic is very sparse which makes my bottom very happy. 

I can't believe I just wrote that much about my office bathroom, but I think about it everytime I go in there, so I figured that was the universe's way of telling me to share.  Or, maybe I'm just nuts.  ZIP IT.


dance, dance, dance

Oh 20's, you were a necessary evil weren't you? 

10 years ago today, I was turning 20.  What a pointless birthday that is.  Nothing good happens at 20, besides the fact that you're no longer a teenager.  My early to mid twenties are a blur.  Lot's a drinking and music and miles.  There were bad decisions and there were better ones.  My twenties were full of girlfriends and laughter and good times.  And then, my twenties changed my life by bringing two magical men into my life.  Marriage and birth at 28.  That was a great year.

And now, 30.  On the cusp of another birth, another male to love.  My past has been void, but now it seems... full.  Men come from me.  They need me.  They fill my life with love and laughter and worth.  This life is a funny journey, for sure. 

The grey hair comes with aches.  The energy goes.  It's all a dance.  And it's one I hope to continue for a very, very long time.  Until I can dance no more.


Life is so surreal. 

A few short weeks ago, our office celebrated the retirement of a wonderful man who had worked for the company for 47 years.  This past Sunday, he had a heart attack.  Today, his family made the impossible decision to remove life support.  His brain had been deprived life giving oxygen for too long, their father, friend and husband was gone. 

How fleeting it all is.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good. - W. H. Auden

Seventeen Months

You are JOY, little boy. 

You live each waking hour with such zest and energy that I envy.  When I sing "diaper, diaper" (to the tune of Dora's "backpack, backpack"), you run to our bedroom for a diaper change.  You say and do things all the time that only I see and then you refuse to replicate them for your dad.  It makes me look silly, but I know the truth.  Your daddy can get giggles out of  you that I can only dream of, but when it's time to snuggle you are mine. 

You've been sick twice in two weeks now, most recently with your first stomach bug.  I always considered us lucky that we'd made it this long without checking off that experience and thankfully, it appears to be a light one.  I hate when you don't feel well because I know how miserable it is, but I do love the cuddling and snuggling and mama time that I get.  You're too busy on normal days.

For several months, we've had a bedtime routine of pajamas, milk, then rocking to sleep in your room.  As soon as your dad or I carry you to your room, your head is on our chest before we can even take a seat in the glider.  I relish those moments but I'm afraid we've created a monster that will soon cause us all severe grief.  We never should've started rocking you to sleep because now it is near impossible to stop, but we will... eventually. 

You are perfection.  You don't even have a freckle!  I asked a dermatologist when things like that will appear and he said around age two.  I love your smooth, perfect skin and I have a bottle of SPF 55 ready to go for our outside fun. 

I wish I could put the love into words.  The joy I feel when you look for me.  The exuberance of feeling your little hand in mine.... like a big boy now, not a baby.  As you grow, I can only hope that we can teach you love and tolerance.  Patience and kindness.  Peace and the knowledge to make good decisions.  Hope and big dreams.  Acceptance and humility.  And always grace.

Seventeen months have flown in an instant.  Slow down, little one.  The world will always be waiting.


I'm ok, I'm alright.... Carry on.

C & I watched Edge of Darkness this weekend.  In the first five minutes of the movie, the main character's adult daughter is shot and killed on his front porch, in his arms.  As we watched the grief unfold, I became aware that I was holding my breathe.  The ache.... oh the ache.  For those without kids, I'll never be able to explain it.  We both commented that watching shows where people lose children is 100 times worse now that we have one.  My thoughts kept drifting to that angel sleeping in his bed and how my life would never be the way it used to be.  I think my words were, "If that happened to me, I would fall down dead right next to him.  Dead."  But, I know that's not true.  I cannot begin to imagine how I could ever think about living again. 


I love this:
This is a creature on fire with love, but it's still scary since most people think love only looks like one thing, instead of the whole world.

The end must be near, pigs must be flying and hell must feel a little bit chilly this morning because I HAVE A FACEBOOK.  I'm not posting the link, nor am I friending every person I've ever known and their dog. 

So.  Anyway.


Meet the newest member of the family

This is Foghorn. 

He's a pretty good looking chicken, isn't he?  Also, very well behaved.

"He" is probably a "she", too.  But at this point, it's just semantics, right? 

And in case you're wondering, C has a friend whose family has chicken houses.  The chicken takers came and picked up chickens, but left 30 or 40 and my husband, who can't pass up an animal, brought home the first one he caught.  Maybe Foghorn will get a friend next go round.

And here's one of my boy since I just can't help myself.


Mom x2

A friend is thowing me a baby shower.  I've said all along I don't need a thing, especially since it's a boy, but she's insisting.  Probably because I gave her one.  Anyway, the only thing I think I need are clothes since Carter wore a butt-load of hand-me-downs from my sister-in-law's little boy who is only 6 months older than him (and now about 5lbs lighter and the same height.  Dainty.)  And even then, I don't actually know how much I really need since it's been a while since I've been in those boxes. 

In any case, I guess I'm asking for must haves that maybe I don't know about.  Especially when you have more than one kid.  Or maybe something that is SO COOL that I originally thought was frivilous, but maybe can indulge in this time.  Spill it, mom's and those who regularly peruse the baby aisles. 

Also, I'm registered on Amazon.com.... is that tacky?


Finding Joy

I'm going to sign up for this super cool photography e-course from Willette Photography called Finding the Joy: Capturing your kiddos through Photography.  Anyone want to join me?  If you register by 05/15, it's only $90 for a 6-week, do-at-your-own-pace course.  I'm pretty darn excited about it and maybe it will inspire me to do a little less talking..... and a lot more action.

This is why I'm dreading it...

Me:  What do you think of the name "Hudson"?
Him:  Umm, NO!  As in Rock Hudson?  Gay and dead?

Everyone asks if we have a name picked out and I give the same response every time:  "No."  We couldn't agree on the name "Carter" until I was filling out the BIRTH CERTIFICATE in the hospital.  Seriously.  The man is beyond picky.  Everything I suggest is a "no" and yet, it's my job to come up with choices.  So, help me.  Leave a comment with every boy name you have ever liked.  Please.  For the sake of my marriage.  For the sake of my SANITY.

Edited to add:  While I'm a lover of things a little out of the ordinary, my husband is a complete and TOTAL SQUARE.  So, while I happen to love the name Jackson, all he can think about is a mule.  And he will not have our child ridiculed for his name.  So, try to keep them sort of inside the box.  If they're borderline, I may be able to sway him!


Making {new} Plans

In all honesty, I was making plans.

Plans for dresses and tights.

Plans for ruffles and bows.

Plans for tutus and pettiskirts.

Plans for pink.

But, you can't win 'em all. 

And, I think I'm pretty much already a winner.

I mean, who would want to raise another me?

**The pictures are linked to the incredible Etsy stores where I found them.**


Drumroll Please!

I don't think this picture leaves ANY doubt about it.

Another boy!  I was convinced it was a girl.  I even ALMOST bought girl stuff online last week.  Glad I didn't!!  The more I think about it though, the more I like the idea of having two boys.  Not that I really have much of a choice in the matter at this point! 

The rest of the ultrasound was perfect, too.  With Carter, they measured his head like 4 times because it was so big.  This baby was right on track and within all the "normal" ranges.  That combined with the results of my AFP testing has me convinced that we have a healthy baby boy on the way.  That makes for one happy mama.

22 weeks

I had C snap a picture with my blackberry this morning (which explains the quality) so I could show off my belly.  The angle that I'm standing doesn't really show much, but it's there.  DEFINETLY there. 

And as for the winner of the Guess the Sex contest:

Cristal V.

My sweet old friend, Cristal, is the winner of the $10 credit to my Thirty-One gifts store.  She is currently pregnant with number three, so I'm SURE something over there will suit her!

Tonight is date night with my hubby.  We're going to see Miranda Lambert in concert and leaving Carter with my mom.  I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend!


Guess & Win!

So, we'll find out the sex of Numero Dos next Thursday.  That's ONE WEEK FROM TODAY for those of you playing along at home.  Geez, could the wait be any LONGER?  I'm on a pregnancy forum and some of these girls have known since 13 weeks.  So.  Not.  Fair. 

Enough of my ranting though.  The reason for my post is that I've decide to host a little game.  Click the button below or on my sidebar and go make your guess as to what gender our child will be.  Assuming there will be multiple correct guesses, I will randomly pick one to receive a $10 gift certificate to my Thirty-One store.

I know you have to put a guess for weight, length & birth date, too but you can just put zero for now.  No penalties for being wrong there-- the sex is all that matters!  (That'sWhatHeSaid)  Be sure and make your "name" something that I will be able to recognize or use your email address.  In a couple of weeks, I'll post another game to guess the weight and length.  That winner will get something bigger, I just haven't decided what just yet.


15 months - A view from a cell phone

Today I took Carter for his 15 month well-baby appointment (albeit 2.5 weeks late).  The term "well baby" is used loosely as he's on antibiotics for a potential ear infection (caught early with just a little fluid in the ears) and has a horrid cough.  But, he was well enough for FOUR shots and a blood draw.  Congratulations, kid!  To celebrate, here are some fun facts from Carter.
  • He weighs 25lbs 11oz (60-something percentile)
  • He's 31.5" tall (57th percentile)
  • His head is 19" (77th percentile)- he's still on track to be presidential.
  • He has a 100 teeth.  Not really, but currently he has all four incisors coming in.  Hopefully that will be all until his 2 year molars.  He can't just cut one at a time- they ALL have to come in at once. 
  • He still naps twice a day, though I've noticed his morning naps have been shorter lately.  Except on Sunday.  It lasted for 2.5 hours. 
  • This past weekend, he slept til almost 9am before demanding attention from his parents. 
  • We rock him to sleep every night and let me tell you, as bad of a habit that is to start, it makes for some of the sweetest moments when he finally gives up for the day.  But the flip-flopping and wiggling getting there is getting very old.  Especially when mom's lap is disappearing
  • He loves his juice (either flavored water from Target or 2oz Gerber juice and the rest water) and will drink 4-5 sippy cups a day.
  • He's still attached to his noodle (pacifier), but I'm not fighting that battle just yet. 
  • He says all sorts of things now- Mama, Daddy, doggy, hi, bye, bock-bock, quack-quack, ball (bah), this (dis- when pointing), uh-oh and thank you.  I will forever pride myself on the fact that thank-you was his first real word.  He says it with accuracy, too.... especially when he's coming to take something you have! 
  • He can sign "please" and give/blow kisses.  Wet, open mouthed mwah's!
I haven't taken nearly enough "real" pictures, so I thought I'd share what my cell phone captures.  Yes, there are a lot of car seat pictures, but that's really the only time he holds somewhat still.  That, and I love to watch him sleep...





Hammy - 04/15/2010
(These were from last week's "sick day".  Yeah, notsomuch.)

First "real" boo-boo.  He fell on the fireplace.  A+ parenting

This is what four shots and a blood draw will do.