tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61321696206860608932024-02-18T19:31:08.120-08:00House of BrownJuliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.comBlogger238125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-33139227606700699732022-01-01T17:22:00.001-08:002022-01-01T17:22:53.856-08:00Audiobooks<p> It took me awhile to jump on the audiobook bandwagon. Though audiobooks were a godsend when Sarah and Will were in the formative reading years (and even now Will prefers the audio), I'd always preferred paper and ink books to any other format. </p><p>That all changed when I decided to purchase an Audible membership. I'm not sure why I did it - maybe there was a deal going on? I think it was mostly for the kids and maybe the odd podcast for myself on occasion. Podcasts have been good training for listening to audiobooks. I started listening to them for school, then on runs, then on my commute, and now just about any time I don't have a book queued up. Because, don't be fooled: listening to books is a skill that has to be practiced and honed just like any other. I didn't know this during virtual school 2020, when I tried to keep Teddy occupied for the 4 hours a day that he didn't have school and the big kids and I were in class. I didn't understand that simply plopping him down next to the CD player, CDs, and their corresponding books was not enough for him to be able to listen to the illustrated Harry Potter series. He needed practice, and so did I. At first, when I tried to listen, I would space out or multitask and not hear a word being read. I would snap back into focus and have no idea what was going on. But, with some practice and focus for my fruit-fly brain, I can now enjoy books while I cook, cross-stitch, exercise, drive, eat lunch, or whatever else.</p><p>The awesome thing about audiobooks is that I can read twice as much as I used to. All of that dead time that I was listening to the same boring songs on my playlist or the radio has now been put to work. Here are a few of my favorite listens so far this past year:</p><p>1. <u> Daisy Jones and the Six </u> - Because the format of this book is an interview with a fictional rock band, I think it actually lends itself better to this full-cast audio than to paper-and-ink. I loved it just as much as everyone else who read it this year.<br /></p><p>2. <u>Code Name Verity </u> - This is another full-cast audio and it was also phenomenal. Only the headings of the chapters were lost on me because of the audio. </p><p>3. <u> Call the Midwife </u>- Not a full cast, but the narrator was brilliant and I was fascinated by this collection of true stories of a midwife in post-war England.</p><p>4. <u>As You Wish -</u> I've had a crush on Cary Elwes since The Princess Bride, so I'd gladly listen to him read the phone book. This recounting of the behind-the-scenes makings of the movie is much more enjoyable than the Yellow Pages.</p><p>5. <u>Finlay Donovan is Killing It </u>- A lot of people might be trying their hands at a side hustle these days, but, unlike Finlay, most of us are not considering contract killing as a line of work. Mystery, comedy, and a relatable heroine all roll together in a frothy romp.</p><p>6. <u>The Huntress </u>- I really have a thing for World War/post-war titles, but this one was twisty and devious with its dramatic irony and Nazi-hunting plotline. Another single narrator who transformed into each character so deftly I didn't want to listen at my usual 1.5x speed. </p><p>7. <u>How to Raise an Adult -</u>Confession: I'm still working on this one. Self-help is a genre I usually avoid, so it takes me a lot longer to read. However, this one should be handed out to every parent in our neighborhood. I was listening while driving back from Memphis after Thanksgiving and even Will wanted to hear more about the hyper-competitive helicopter-parenting that is the norm these days.</p><p>There are many more titles I will add to this list with time, but as a recap from 2021, these are my favorites. I can't wait for my run tomorrow so that I can finish up my latest book!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-50860337187813860542021-12-30T06:35:00.000-08:002021-12-30T06:35:30.006-08:00Christmas 2021/ New Year's Plans<p> </p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">Why do people love the Christmas season so much? For me, Christmas heralds exhaustion and unmet expectations; keeping up with the Joneses and slapping a smile over lips that want to rage. I wish I could find a bland middle-ground during this "happiest season", but this year was not that year. Maybe I'm just contrary enough to want to rebel against the idea of mandatory magic and forced happiness. Who knows? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">However, as far as Christmases go, this one wasn't too bad on the whole. Sure, I got picked for jury duty the 2nd week of December and got my period the same day. Okay, so the combat boots I ordered for Sarah in September turned out to be spiky, tacky chanclas (thanks, Amazon and me for not checking as soon as the package arrived.). Yeah, we did all get the flu the last week of school and had get tested for COVID.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">But my mom did host the first annual Thrift Store Formal Christmas party. And we got to see Mike's family at a bomb-ass cabin in the mountains of North Carolina, complete with hot-tubbing and karaoke. Also hiking, buuuut I'm a much more skilled jacuzz-er than hiker/nature-lover. Despite all the warnings (starting in JULY) we did not experience any supply-chain issues. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">While Christmas may not be my favorite (or even top 10) holiday, New Year's is definitely top 3. I love the blank-slate, fresh-paged potential of a NEW YEAR. Don't worry, this isn't some "New year, new me" thing where I go on some diet, become an organized minimalist, smile all the time, and start loving summer. I will set some resolutions this year, and most of them will be abandoned by March. So what? I'm writing them down here anyway, because guess what resolution #1 is for this year?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">1. <b>Write more</b>. Yep, over the past few years, I have all but abandoned a pastime that has been almost daily practice since I learned to write. At this point, it feels like rebuilding an atrophied muscle. Even this garbage I've written so far today has left me tired and winded. In 8th grade, right before our class trip to D.C., I sprained my ankle really bad. Since we'd be on foot all over the city, the doc put me in a walking cast for a few weeks. When they took the cast off, I remember how skinny (and hairy!) my little weak calf was compared to the other leg. This is like rehabbing a muscle, so bear with me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">2. <b>Pray daily for my kids, husband, and family.</b> I'll admit to a little bit of sandbagging here: I already do this (at least for the kids) throughout the day, because, let's face it, these teenage years are TUFF. Teaching middle school is so much more personal when your own children are in middle school - there's no separation between personal and professional. The emotional turmoil my students are going through are the same things my own kids are facing. I send up quick prayers all through the day because I am emotionally flayed and raw.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">3. <b> Complete a triathlon.</b> Managing expectations on this one because, Omicron.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">4. <b>Start a side-hustle.</b> This one is so cliche, I know. And, don't worry - I'm not going to start selling oils or skincare. Honestly, any desire I had to advance professionally in my career as an educator is gone. At this point, I just want to keep my head down and not get accidentally fired again. Even so, I want to challenge myself (and make $$ if possible). Who knows what random paths can lead to new opportunities? When I was a teenager and even in college, I collected jobs like some people collect stamps, and no matter how bad a fit a job was, it always taught me something and led me in a new direction.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">5. <b> Save $300 every month</b>. I did this back when I had my very first job out of college and it saved my A$$. My kids will never know the panic of deciding whether to pay rent or cell phone overage bills.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">So, that's it. There are other things, but my flaccid writing muscles are toast. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;">TTFN.</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-73804498512712842572019-03-27T04:46:00.002-07:002021-01-21T07:59:16.853-08:00Washington, D.C. in January. During a Government Shutdown Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Call us crazy, but we thought a trip to Washington, D.C. at New Year's would be just the thing.</div>
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Sure, it might be cold and snowy, but the crowds would be lighter</div>
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and we could handle anything with enough snacks and souvenir money. </div>
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The kids are (for the most part) troopers, </div>
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and we could balance our indoor activities with more engaging, hands-on experiences. </div>
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With this in mind, we planned for every contingency we could think of.</div>
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Except...</div>
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a partial government shut-down.</div>
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Most people (including ourselves) probably figured we'd just cancel or postpone the trip for another time, preferably when all of the Smithsonians were open for business.</div>
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But, we didn't. </div>
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Cancel, that is.</div>
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We panicked a little. We researched a lot.</div>
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And, most importantly, we tried to get our already-paid-for hotel rooms refunded, to no avail.</div>
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Since Mike and I are not ones to back down from a challenge, nor are we ever going to let hotel rooms go to waste, we took a big gulp of roll-with-it and did just that. </div>
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We drove through the night on December 30th, arriving early in the morning of the 31st. That gave us 2 days to squeeze in the must-see Smithsonian museums before they closed. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Teddy and the Sopwith Camel (a.k.a. Snoopy's plane that he flies as the WWI Flying Ace against the Red Baron.)</span></td></tr>
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The kids slept all night and we pulled in the Air and Space Museum just as they opened.</div>
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Next up, we hauled over to the city center, parked the car, and hit up the Mall.</div>
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The National Mall, that is.</div>
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We came, we saw, we took a picture with the elephant.<br />
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From the National Museum of Natural History, we jetted next door and hit up the Museum of American History to check out the Batmobile, Dorothy's ruby slippers, and dresses of the First Ladies.<br />
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Cookie Monster was the highlight for Teddy and me, and I miiiight have fan-girled just a smidge.</div>
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We also hit up another Air and Space Museum. </div>
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Not my cup of tea, but it's the one thing I do remember from my 8th grade trip to D.C.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Those 2019 glasses are hiding all kinds of tired.</span></td></tr>
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FINALLY, it was time to check in to the hotel and change clothes for the first time in 2 days.</div>
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We stayed in the heart of the city, within walking distance to the White House.</div>
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As a matter of fact, the White House is where we spent our New Year's Eve. </div>
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Walking around in varying stages of sleep-deprivation, we chatted with some locals, and discovered just how gracious and kind the Secret Service are. Despite the shutdown, there were only a handful of protesters in front of the White House, and very few people out and about.</div>
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It was weird and unexpected, given that it was New Year's Eve, that our family were the hardest partyers in the city. And we were in bed by 11:00. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cTUfliIYsMxPOhpX9cVtLEC8Jr4arILWdWBuWTkR8o7blRwZsANYN5LTLACpsu0q6jPgBgXXUZLkBOwPbrHAvJRbPhFMlPkzy3OjFn7HiOrz_xtGzaZPomgt5lyd4Je3BArtTFRA/s1600/IMG_4386.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cTUfliIYsMxPOhpX9cVtLEC8Jr4arILWdWBuWTkR8o7blRwZsANYN5LTLACpsu0q6jPgBgXXUZLkBOwPbrHAvJRbPhFMlPkzy3OjFn7HiOrz_xtGzaZPomgt5lyd4Je3BArtTFRA/s320/IMG_4386.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Tourist mode.</span></td></tr>
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I don't remember what we had originally planned for the following day, but we were still in major hustle-mode to see all-the-things before they closed indefinitely. </div>
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As we walked through the Capitol plaza, one of the very kind Capitol police officers stopped the kids and gave them some stickers or something, and recommended going for our tour of the Capitol right away. The lines were short, the wait was minimal, </div>
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and we hopped into a tour right as they were leaving. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8OTJ8Kqd5gGDGx6XoMwUKKEfAdXSlbHlO1mCIucCH0YDdSrT8tAg7mAMIhcUlbXYtvsj-A-mEa6F1Nvh8r_s3WehiDYjyYK10ADqaAZHkpk5vXV_O398h59LYINQd9dy2wxLoICb/s1600/IMG_3410.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8OTJ8Kqd5gGDGx6XoMwUKKEfAdXSlbHlO1mCIucCH0YDdSrT8tAg7mAMIhcUlbXYtvsj-A-mEa6F1Nvh8r_s3WehiDYjyYK10ADqaAZHkpk5vXV_O398h59LYINQd9dy2wxLoICb/s400/IMG_3410.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div>
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Something we learned from our guide is that, in order to see the House and Senate chambers, you have to contact your Representative or Senator's office and get some passes. </div>
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We hemmed and hawed about this, but we decided to head over to the Library of Congress first.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIyK1uPMBzeA6BvhDYLCXFLLGMgIkBkTFovNTSWqFbWvGgzidrmdIMSZwfqsbxBFzZTCSIZGdyk0XqXhrPpSpM_b5cLX4tD9YG6tD1m1FbBAeAFW0gTM9NjJJvdfqFcxst0KxwAh3/s1600/IMG_3486.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIyK1uPMBzeA6BvhDYLCXFLLGMgIkBkTFovNTSWqFbWvGgzidrmdIMSZwfqsbxBFzZTCSIZGdyk0XqXhrPpSpM_b5cLX4tD9YG6tD1m1FbBAeAFW0gTM9NjJJvdfqFcxst0KxwAh3/s400/IMG_3486.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just checkin' out the selection in the Library of Congress. NBD</span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2UsmDYc_gCmA98Fy1SiB3In2ewfasfV54bafYu8pLG-NjgtoG4noN6DMK06xXX4oFH0TXniZ-nUbHaZoaDcbCXcBnrzNUGS9b_OXBKDjPgLXfoet-Aw5Ll4ysYlh8mzGxsnAyKbH/s1600/IMG_3493.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_2UsmDYc_gCmA98Fy1SiB3In2ewfasfV54bafYu8pLG-NjgtoG4noN6DMK06xXX4oFH0TXniZ-nUbHaZoaDcbCXcBnrzNUGS9b_OXBKDjPgLXfoet-Aw5Ll4ysYlh8mzGxsnAyKbH/s400/IMG_3493.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Loungin' in the LOC. Like you do.</span><br />
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</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXR3ZecbM5i7klocBjgb_K8evLX0djHrV1rpEt7kj1hmq7p9j15x3YyiPG5i_Hf1gVPsawjLuo8UkbiRwqcYBRW9bpuElW3DBfJzKuk4zS20AXXoHQr5V8NlhcW-8RElTamAF_x1-/s1600/IMG_3501.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYXR3ZecbM5i7klocBjgb_K8evLX0djHrV1rpEt7kj1hmq7p9j15x3YyiPG5i_Hf1gVPsawjLuo8UkbiRwqcYBRW9bpuElW3DBfJzKuk4zS20AXXoHQr5V8NlhcW-8RElTamAF_x1-/s400/IMG_3501.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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If you know me (and I would guess that you do, otherwise, why are you reading this drivel?), you might know that I love libraries. My kids love libraries. We want to live in one, breathe in the books, lounge in the quiet, curled up with a good book or fifteen.</div>
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So, we hooked up with a tour of the Library of Congress.</div>
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And they didn't talk about books.</div>
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They told us about architecture and the horror story of fires that destroyed priceless collections of books. And how only a fraction of Thomas Jefferson's books were saved. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtC-wiDJ3h2VHx29-F642kjS2JM075zDPVEi9pVAxTju36pe5zonlaP_D3SoQUJyTrHjEzQFnkELNniBOSloZM_NDyIJZ8Eh-c54xfMHK3Q6HK2j5Lt-5hXB0ktB-3IwUydGi1wlLV/s1600/IMG_4410.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1201" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtC-wiDJ3h2VHx29-F642kjS2JM075zDPVEi9pVAxTju36pe5zonlaP_D3SoQUJyTrHjEzQFnkELNniBOSloZM_NDyIJZ8Eh-c54xfMHK3Q6HK2j5Lt-5hXB0ktB-3IwUydGi1wlLV/s400/IMG_4410.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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And here is a reading room you're not allowed to read in.</div>
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Oh, and here are books you're not allowed to touch.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBeq1VZJK6eHwvPN9SaMSD65Zth9c7Ws2W9d2Oy6Be5XI0WeMbRrh78s1Ry2eLle8PiJIqUc7b6ZuaGZ-JHvwbwp0xNf5GuY1iYJoMa1qyBDBTgQU4fcGV91VnDeyiS5LOZ0sRWC1/s1600/IMG_3517.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmBeq1VZJK6eHwvPN9SaMSD65Zth9c7Ws2W9d2Oy6Be5XI0WeMbRrh78s1Ry2eLle8PiJIqUc7b6ZuaGZ-JHvwbwp0xNf5GuY1iYJoMa1qyBDBTgQU4fcGV91VnDeyiS5LOZ0sRWC1/s400/IMG_3517.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div>
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So, while I'm sure it's very important to learn these things and to see them,</div>
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it was overall a very unsatisfactory trip to the library, in my opinion.</div>
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<strong>Pro</strong> <strong>Tip</strong>: hit up the newly-remodeled children's section and skip the tour.</div>
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At this point, the kids had been pushed to the limit. We were out of snacks,</div>
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they'd been dragged on tours, talked to death about architecture,</div>
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and had spent the entire morning not being allowed to touch ANYTHING.</div>
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Time to take a break and get some food, right?</div>
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WRONG!</div>
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It's time to head back to the Capitol and hang out in security lines!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGX9i2tIpBXRThGX8YWbpMzoBVe9kxcm3pBricpFajCIhz3NHsLa2OBy2TDUmpJL4LlyAH9yzdZSqd0-j26wjov9ceJ0HzMHSSPERmBevdRFcr2Sjsi_WXhPfrANwgbicgxkGibJvy/s1600/IMG_4430.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGX9i2tIpBXRThGX8YWbpMzoBVe9kxcm3pBricpFajCIhz3NHsLa2OBy2TDUmpJL4LlyAH9yzdZSqd0-j26wjov9ceJ0HzMHSSPERmBevdRFcr2Sjsi_WXhPfrANwgbicgxkGibJvy/s400/IMG_4430.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Representative Teddy Brown, at your service.</span></td></tr>
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But, first, we had to get passes for the fam for the House and Senate chambers from our very gracious Representative Jim Cooper. Now, Mr. Cooper wasn't actually in his office at the time, but his staff was amazing. Not only did they get us passes for the chambers, but they also took us back to see Mr. Cooper's office and even to sit at his desk!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIFYJh8x_UY_aBLCVrMO5AjZNoelSg2ZdqBoF0Od97J3feEgCtFXdNK6bfY-rI4GcWqSa05k1h6iU9YDXhO15yF7rY_i7bAXqN5HygTyTIGjGHYMo5OXldblwfbAcH9xdstZweH8y/s1600/IMG_3526.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIFYJh8x_UY_aBLCVrMO5AjZNoelSg2ZdqBoF0Od97J3feEgCtFXdNK6bfY-rI4GcWqSa05k1h6iU9YDXhO15yF7rY_i7bAXqN5HygTyTIGjGHYMo5OXldblwfbAcH9xdstZweH8y/s400/IMG_3526.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div>
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It might be a silly thing that was not a big deal for the staff, but it was a VERY big deal to us.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgY-xG4Ftna06odPyHqv-5Y_JnmB8byWPN_J5mQdWA9MDCR5f5XUjEECNIyLwJ30A2AVegfkZCd3OzzuLi7YKrFzlrUPSKuMa4f4u8JIyyTipmLxVW7GgFyQdGUNvIGSgGIPVNVra/s1600/IMG_4429.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtgY-xG4Ftna06odPyHqv-5Y_JnmB8byWPN_J5mQdWA9MDCR5f5XUjEECNIyLwJ30A2AVegfkZCd3OzzuLi7YKrFzlrUPSKuMa4f4u8JIyyTipmLxVW7GgFyQdGUNvIGSgGIPVNVra/s400/IMG_4429.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZrJUt0aZfmWK3WcPKa638eYQcIHQJX_nK-XhWIJfFrhNybuQs8g_RiPUD2E3RErB5FEXcZtgrbv6F3gaJc1SHIR5F7rmZSyheoCkWVhiEyxz3HIL0NXFh4r5BRNjmH3tuQ9FZ_oz/s1600/IMG_3530.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZrJUt0aZfmWK3WcPKa638eYQcIHQJX_nK-XhWIJfFrhNybuQs8g_RiPUD2E3RErB5FEXcZtgrbv6F3gaJc1SHIR5F7rmZSyheoCkWVhiEyxz3HIL0NXFh4r5BRNjmH3tuQ9FZ_oz/s400/IMG_3530.HEIC" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Why can't we just all look at the camera and smile at the same time?! Just once!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Ok, so we went on our 10th trip back through security at the Capitol building, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and then did some more security.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And some more.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, when they'd stripped us of our phones, keys, shoelaces, watches, strollers, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">and 4th child (I'm kidding, Mom!), </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">we got to...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">wait in line. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">But then, we visited the Senate chambers, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">which was not the one you see during the State of the Union.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Next up was the House chambers, and there was a bit of a crackle of electricity in the air because the House was in session. Of course, we were in there while they were taking a break, so we only saw Pages and staffers. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">As usual, Teddy summed up absurd adult behavior in succinct kid-friendly terms with the question,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> "Are they having a staring contest?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">But it was neat to think that we were there while a huge debate was going on and the wheels of government were turning.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">The kids remained unimpressed. And starving.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I guess we fed them. I don't know what. This is not a foodie blog.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Real quick, we dashed over to the National Art Museum, which is more Sarah's and my thing than the boys' but everybody found something they liked.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNHt5gN3MQs0wkz49-b-uX-HGf16IExTy4xyMLXVu4mw7ZmsphubgcI_mJoTEwSQWWgTKPR16OXTbqKhpEuT-JKuQIvcWrlF0F-w6aSwZCL2JJcmurRIDIXeWIyVrvdQL7pO7UtDq/s1600/IMG_3534.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcNHt5gN3MQs0wkz49-b-uX-HGf16IExTy4xyMLXVu4mw7ZmsphubgcI_mJoTEwSQWWgTKPR16OXTbqKhpEuT-JKuQIvcWrlF0F-w6aSwZCL2JJcmurRIDIXeWIyVrvdQL7pO7UtDq/s320/IMG_3534.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I found a big blue rooster.</td></tr>
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Will found a seat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiHn43SAEvO1KB1Ve3fmEXMUH8NBLV2aUPM9M_eOeDslcM2YOv4I6s5uRRm_yAVa594uvFpQPJWvlY3kJPuvQ_EMy8BrZ4W8xySIU3qja62Da8kIRwY6ng-z9G5Mb28kqeRjcWaHf/s1600/IMG_3537.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQiHn43SAEvO1KB1Ve3fmEXMUH8NBLV2aUPM9M_eOeDslcM2YOv4I6s5uRRm_yAVa594uvFpQPJWvlY3kJPuvQ_EMy8BrZ4W8xySIU3qja62Da8kIRwY6ng-z9G5Mb28kqeRjcWaHf/s320/IMG_3537.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF9sjFLucHLSbR08jMTVsy90PncFX0f4_7gOc3v3xIiGLxGsVSdZoQ_EfHct5o2T0Nr59I2NhhvFwcGuqiAsX0K3LThp-SFNiCPiN3R_iCRxdhbCUfus51xx-RuTcqho0RAprlVmf/s1600/IMG_3540.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIF9sjFLucHLSbR08jMTVsy90PncFX0f4_7gOc3v3xIiGLxGsVSdZoQ_EfHct5o2T0Nr59I2NhhvFwcGuqiAsX0K3LThp-SFNiCPiN3R_iCRxdhbCUfus51xx-RuTcqho0RAprlVmf/s400/IMG_3540.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div>
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Sarah found Warhol.</div>
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And Teddy found Mickey.</div>
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No one found Mike.</div>
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But Mike found this gem right next door to the Capitol: the National Botanic Gardens.</div>
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It was an amazing space for the kids to burn off steam, go on a scavenger hunt for different types of plants, and finally, FINALLY interact with their surroundings. </div>
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Even though the children's garden was closed (because, January), there was a model trains exhibit and an exhibit of model DC landmarks.</div>
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Just before dark, the drill sergeant, ahem, Mike, led his exhausted, cranky troops back to the hotel to rest up for another day in D.C. </div>
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Disclosure: This post contains inaccurate names for museums and stuff because I'm too lazy to look up the official names, but you can figure out what to Google.</div>
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Part 2: Georgetown, the Holocaust Museum, ____ Cemetary, </div>
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and some stuff we will definitely do next time</div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-25736256626425944162018-07-03T06:55:00.002-07:002018-07-03T06:55:34.769-07:00Packing for Summer in Charleston<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For as long as I can remember, my favorite thing about going on trips was the packing. Sure, the sights, experiences, and uncharted territory were all well and good. But, what 7-year-old-me really enjoyed was the packing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Starting at a minimum of 2 weeks in advance of departure, I would open up my suitcase(s) and start piling in the essentials for a 10-day trip to Dallas: 2 pairs of underwear, a rainbow of Duckhead shorts, my entire Multiples wardrobe, and approximately 37 Cabbage Patch Kids + their birth certificates. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fast-forward 30+ years, and I've made surprisingly little progress in the way of packing smart and light. Despite the HOURS of pinning packing lists and reading blog posts about how to pack for 6-months and 3 continents in a clutch purse, I still pack for the persona I imagine adopting when I get to where I'm going. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like, of COURSE Julie-in-the-Big-Apple needs spike heels and leather pants when she travels with her 3 little kids and entire extended family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Duh. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Old-South-Charleston-Julie? She'll be strolling the Battery in gingham sundresses and precious sandals, coolly dabbing at the healthy "glow" she's developed while perusing the historic sections of the city and instructing her attentive and similarly-attired children in Civil War history.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKra8bC4PLyiii0xx9TNJSr-NxfkEYa6ZkxerS6WGWpYgHoVmZF9U-lrTm3hvyZMxSFw9ann-gSze6gBL53rAfEoB01JXJmnn55lp_uBzxobrMIK15vUekBvk1i9Muyr4rLtP2_E6A/s1600/IMG_1875.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKra8bC4PLyiii0xx9TNJSr-NxfkEYa6ZkxerS6WGWpYgHoVmZF9U-lrTm3hvyZMxSFw9ann-gSze6gBL53rAfEoB01JXJmnn55lp_uBzxobrMIK15vUekBvk1i9Muyr4rLtP2_E6A/s400/IMG_1875.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong, summer packing has a lot going for it: lighter clothes take up less space, no socks or giant boots required. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, there is a major downside of summer travel in the South: sweat. Now, as unladylike as it may be to discuss it, the fact remains that I sweat. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A lot. At the first degree over 70. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I may be unique in this condition, but I suspect otherwise. So, for all you fashion bloggers with your "momiforms" of a cute blouse, mules, and jeans (JEANS?! in the summer?!) and those who throw shade at us moms who do our kid-wrangling clad in workout clothes, you can just can it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have a few words for you: <i>humidity</i>, <i>chub-rub</i>, and <i>chafing</i>. </span></div>
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First-night fail. </div>
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It was still 85 degrees and 10000% humidity at 9pm, and we walked several miles around the city.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, let me just climb off that soap box. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyhoo, I really thought I did a good job packing this time. I only packed stuff I actually like and am comfortable wearing, I stuck with items that could be mixed and matched together, and I only packed 4 pairs of shoes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet, I was not prepared for the amount of sweating I would be doing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Apparently, after 10 years in Nashville, I’ve forgotten everything I learned about true humidity from my time in South Florida.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Honestly, I wore the same thing every day during the day: running shorts, sports bra, tank top, and Tevas. One night I got real fancy and put on a pool coverup for dinner out. See below.⇓</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25AM786c0LjWAXNKeeIxbFCQrzUFwq30A8Ni-jhb5aPmQ6kdeYvvEm9WkGDf4fvHTl53dMnxp3gapebr9T9Ra3dsUbIcyYxk1BdeA8nJtB9n1qJxZBsMKQXmHXDC6ZgGA2lMO4HF_/s1600/IMG_1840.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh25AM786c0LjWAXNKeeIxbFCQrzUFwq30A8Ni-jhb5aPmQ6kdeYvvEm9WkGDf4fvHTl53dMnxp3gapebr9T9Ra3dsUbIcyYxk1BdeA8nJtB9n1qJxZBsMKQXmHXDC6ZgGA2lMO4HF_/s400/IMG_1840.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are several morals to this story, beyond the fact that I am apparently a REALLY slow learner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lesson 1: Just pack workout gear and bathing suits for summer travel in the Deep South.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lesson 2: Lower your expectations for how cute and Instagrammable your photos will be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lower.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lower.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A little lower.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New", Courier, monospace;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-39139315527333805672018-06-14T04:49:00.000-07:002018-06-14T04:49:22.389-07:00Currently: Me vs. Kids<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Currently: June</h2>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since I kind of leapt back into this blog-thing without looking first, I didn't have a plan past the first post. Duh. As if. So, I thought I might get onboard with this "currently" theme to give you a snapshot of what we've been doing since school let out. So, I thought I'd compare what I've been doing to what the kids have been doing, using the same 5 categories. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Me first:</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Traveling</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nowhere yet, but we have a trip to Charleston planned soon.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Grilling</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My husband about <b>EXACTLY WHEN HE'S COMING HOME AFTER WORK.</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Isn't he a lucky guy?</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Exploring</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our own city! We went to the symphony play at Centennial Park last week. This week, we hit up the State Capitol, Bicentennial Mall, farmers' market, Belle Meade Plantation, Shelby Bottoms Park, and the main library downtown.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Planting</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The idea of a treehouse for the kids in Mike's and my dad's brains. Really, all we need is some sort of dilapidated structure that Will and Sarah can go out and tinker on so they will </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">GET OUT OF MY HOUSE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But not out of the yard, because then littlest brother will follow and I will have to go too.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Playing</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> In the pool. Errday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Alright, let's see what the children have been up to, shall we? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm sure they've been writing poetry in Spanish and composing sonatas.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kids</span></b></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Traveling</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Miss FancyPants got to travel to Boston with my parents for a 10th-birthday trip. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The Freedom Trail Pizza Tour alone was enough </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">to make me seriously consider stowing away in her duffel. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Meanwhile, the boys pretty much just get dragged to the grocery store 4 times a day.</span></div>
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<u><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Grilling</span></u></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mom about whether she REALLY WATCHED 👀 </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">the super-awesome trick (in the pool, trampoline, creek, Fortnite, etc.) they just did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And did I film it for their imaginary YouTube channel?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ways to fight violently with siblings without drawing blood and/or parental attention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A time-capsule in the backyard so that "somebody can find it in, like,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> 30 years and dig it up and be rich!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Catch at the pool.</span></div>
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Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-26546148922924940212018-06-13T06:43:00.001-07:002018-06-13T06:43:29.474-07:00Re-entry <div style="text-align: center;">
Summer. It seems all the world is soliloquizing about "sweet summertime", </div>
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warm weather, pool time, fireflies, and a slower pace. </div>
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I, on the other hand, think: non-stop sweating, feeding kids all day, every day, and basically being their social coordinator. </div>
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Meanwhile, I'm over here making a "Summer Bucket List" because I think this summer might actually kill me. Like, I know that you can't ACTUALLY be talked to death, but my kids are all, "Challenge accepted." </div>
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Plus, the dang sun doesn't set until the middle of the night, so my 8:30 bedtime is no more. </div>
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Memorial Day weekend, I bought 3 HUGE bags of those zipsicles and a zoo membership, and thought, "Summer is handled." </div>
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My kids apparently feel otherwise.</div>
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There's definitely a period of adjustment for me to shift from Working Mom Mode to SAHM mode every summer. So, I have to get my head on straight, and embrace these 8ish weeks of being home with my kids as a fleeting gift. But I need an outlet and a goal for my efforts.</div>
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And so, I return to the family blog after a three-year hiatus, super-rusty. </div>
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Since the kids are bigger (and literate) this time around, they will even be able to contribute! Sarah's running point on book recommendations, Will is going to do some design work, and Teddy is working on snack reviews, kid-dinners, and the best places to get wet and/or muddy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuar-Bs0cW25NwI04_HEh_OeJ_tOiyIgNEA7ZflyabmYk6X6fdZy6p1GsOyBhD5qp62ysaapLB7LAKiJW0pxB_WL-YY9yp_kYB1T8L5jV-oE2wf0FbGgWno8PE-XLgtYnQr6qZ3gu/s1600/IMG_1415.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEuar-Bs0cW25NwI04_HEh_OeJ_tOiyIgNEA7ZflyabmYk6X6fdZy6p1GsOyBhD5qp62ysaapLB7LAKiJW0pxB_WL-YY9yp_kYB1T8L5jV-oE2wf0FbGgWno8PE-XLgtYnQr6qZ3gu/s320/IMG_1415.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>
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So, cheers to the summer!</div>
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Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-34932450065282160172015-02-12T18:50:00.002-08:002015-02-12T18:50:55.632-08:0011 Months: The Countdown is On!Yes, I realize that I just gave a Teddy update last week. Sure, I could've combined the two into one post.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1PQ992eNA8b-6ELn8Il8LAX0haVfgNrNeLwouV77cd8p3ec8gn4zVNCLFcqBFb4daxehdaPl1Ue8bJFBxOgt-Ns7D773_HM0o00N3Il2iS2AxXLqp3js99I8jdydyluK2C3CVpwc/s1600/FullSizeRender(83).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ1PQ992eNA8b-6ELn8Il8LAX0haVfgNrNeLwouV77cd8p3ec8gn4zVNCLFcqBFb4daxehdaPl1Ue8bJFBxOgt-Ns7D773_HM0o00N3Il2iS2AxXLqp3js99I8jdydyluK2C3CVpwc/s1600/FullSizeRender(83).jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
But, c'mon, folks: I'm just not that organized or on the ball. <br />
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Anyway, Teddy is <b>thisclose </b>to being a big-time one-year-old. Like I said in the 10 month recap, he's already copping a huge toddler attitude, so this month he's been busy perfecting his technique. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_aSfuJx_ohIj4SPoHDjD1PJkT5oDtArAA_MsVpB-iR54k3md68zovuLOa4lthyphenhyphenb2SpCVykWugNww0lxtsasQ03Q-6P_tEiVtDoKLxv-W4RmBzIIzcJQGXVnEX8poS98SgDUxs-jp/s1600/FullSizeRender(76).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9_aSfuJx_ohIj4SPoHDjD1PJkT5oDtArAA_MsVpB-iR54k3md68zovuLOa4lthyphenhyphenb2SpCVykWugNww0lxtsasQ03Q-6P_tEiVtDoKLxv-W4RmBzIIzcJQGXVnEX8poS98SgDUxs-jp/s1600/FullSizeRender(76).jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One, going on 21.</td></tr>
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I don't like to brag, but I think this nugget is rather precocious. I mean, Will was at LEAST 13 months old before he launched a reconstituted meat product at me. But little brother has a mean fast ball (fast nugget?) and a wicked smile to go with it.<br />
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Go ahead. It's okay to feel jealous. <br />
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Another toddler behavior that has really come online recently: the Spaghetti Noodle. <br />
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I know you know what I'm talking about. Maybe you call it something different, or you haven't given it a name that can appear in print, but you know the move. <br />
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Here's a scenario: It's a beautiful day at the park. Sweet toddler is gurgling and scampering, birds are chirping, and you're planning to write a book about your awesome parenting practices because you've got this mom/dad thing down cold and your kid is awesome, and you have no idea who these heathen "threenagers" are because your child is the picture of health and happiness and it is so easy! After awhile, it's time to go home. A two minute warning is given (and ignored). You tell your child, "Time to go home!" and your angel says, "NO!" in some way, shape, or form. He continues to ignore you and the situation escalates to a chase. Once you catch up, you try to pick Angel up, but he goes limp and slithers out of your arms.<br />
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Repeatedly.<br />
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Sound familiar?<br />
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Yep. Teddy's working on that move these days, but his I-don't-wanna-leave-and-you-can't-make-me scenario is in the bathtub. So, there's the super-fun element of danger added to the whole kit and caboodle.<br />
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Teddy has not only become more of a rascal this month, but he's also done some big things of the perambulatory variety, namely standing all by himself. He's walking with assistance and trying to carry stuff while he crawls, so it's only a matter of time, I think. <br />
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Unless... he's like Will and discovers that maintaining a lower center of gravity makes you less of a target for your older sibling to stiff-arm you.<br />
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All of this means that Sarah and Will feel that little bro makes for the best kind of marionette ever.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dance, monkey, dance.</td></tr>
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<b>Stats:</b><br />
28 inches long<br />
19 lbs. <br />
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He appears to be getting fatter and his pajamas are harder to zip without pinching a roll, but he's slipped down in the percentiles.<br />
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<b>Turn-ons: </b><br />
Unrolling all of the toilet paper from the roll; pants-wrestling (again, I have no idea what this is about); shoe-removal; The Wheels on the Bus; magnets; eating paper; throwing all of the food off his tray; idolizing his older siblings; dancing; Cheez-its; bananas; salad; spaghetti; rolling a ball; and guitars.<br />
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Turn-offs:<br />
Getting out of the bath; being in his car seat; people messing with his ears; shoes, hats, clothing in general; bachelorette parties (more on that after Valentine's day); his Sully stuffed animal; hammers in general, Will's Thor hammer in particular.<br />
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Most people I know seem to love the tiny baby stage the best (particularly newborns), but this is just not the case for me. Knowing that Teddy will most likely be our last baby, I've tried to embrace this season and focus on all of the good stuff. But, to me, toddlerhood and beyond is where things really start to get interesting. I mean, the kid can actually DO stuff! Plus, personalities really start to show.<br />
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So, as much as I might tease and kvetch about toddlers, THIS is the part I'm looking forward to.<br />
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-85005812006341827392015-02-05T17:59:00.002-08:002015-02-05T17:59:25.043-08:00It's a Good Thing He's CuteSo...<br />
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This Bear turned 10 months on January 3rd, and decided to celebrate by copping a toddler attitude.<br />
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Yep. Though, technically, I guess toddlers are supposed to be walking in order to be deemed as such, I think the 'tude has a lot more to do with it than gross motor milestones.<br />
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Now, littlest man has always had strong opinions (I have NO idea where he gets that ;) but these days he wields his cuteness as a weapon. Like the time I told him repeatedly to stop trying to knock a picture off the wall: he just looked at me with those big blue eyes, flashed a lopsided grin, reached a fat hand out, and pulled the picture. Like any good disciplinarian, I cooed, "No, Teddy," and that booger shook his head at me. This went on awhile until I held his hand and pulled it away from the picture. When I let it go, he shook his head and grabbed my hand, doing the same thing to me that I had done to him.</div>
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And then I laughed. </div>
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Which is why my children are heathens.<br />
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I remember that I once compared dressing 2-year-old Will for church<br />
to trying to put a bobcat into a potato sack. <br />
That's what it's like trying to get Tedder into anything besides the bathtub.</div>
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Future nudist, this one.</div>
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One thing I'm looking forward to in the toddler stage: toddler dancing. There's nothing like a little guy shakin' his diaper-clad groove thang. </div>
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So, what went on in month 10? </div>
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Nothing much, besides his first Christmas and first New Year.</div>
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After a disastrous attempt to let T enjoy the soulful stylings of our church's various choirs and handbell teams(?), he yukked it up in the nursery for the remainder of Christmas Eve service.</div>
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Favorite Christmas gift: the salad spinner (fun for the whole family!) <br />
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Highlights: Teddy touched the Elves, and nobody cried on Santa's lap! (So disappointing).</div>
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Everybody hated the overnight French toast casserole I made for Christmas morning. (Shocker).</div>
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Only Teddy broke an ornament, but all three kids attempted to knock down the tree.</div>
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I still can't, for the life of me, get an entire meal ready to eat all at once.</div>
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Few things rattle a third child. I mean, c'mon, they get passed off to anyone with a pulse, there's no such thing as "babyproofing", and nobody bats an eyelash when big brother gives him a busted lip. Nonetheless, the Teddy Bear is decidedly spooked by sneezes, beards, and sparklers. In that order. <br />
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<b>Stats:</b></div>
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Month 10 also showed growth in Teddy's, uh, growth. My nugget made it into the 8th percentile for weight, the 40th percentile for height, and the 50th percentile in head circumference. <br />
So, our son is, in essence, shaped like a Q-tip. </div>
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One thing I'm wrestling with is the hair cut. Homeslice is rocking the sheepdog bangs/mullet combo a la Norman Reedus, but every time I get the scissors out to give him a trim, I find some reason why I can't do it. Even though the tiny baby stage isn't necessarily my favorite, haircuts are a rite of passage signalling the end of something fleeting. Owing to precious baby ringlets on both Sarah and Will, I got to postpone their first haircuts until well into the second year. This current little sheepdog has nary a kink to break up his stick-straight locks, so mama's gonna have to put on her big-girl pants pretty soon or risk having Teddy mistaken for a girl. <br />
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Which could happen, since he wears big sister's clothes sometimes. #thirdchildproblems</div>
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<b>Language:</b></div>
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Teddy said his first word this month. In his own deadpan way, it is completely fitting. Wanna know what it is? "Uh-oh!" (Insert surprise pregnancy joke here.) He also says, "Da-da" on occasion, and, one time, ONE TIME, he said, "Ma-ma." Not surprisingly, he babbles all the time and knows EXACTLY what we're saying to him and about him.<br />
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<b>Turn-ons</b>: breaking stuff; breaking Sarah and Will's stuff; taking all of the clothes out of drawers and laundry baskets; removing every item from every cabinet within reach; wrestling pants (I don't know); pulling up on stuff; taking baths till he's pruney; tearing up toilet paper; and eating 3 times as much as his siblings.<br />
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<b>Turn-offs</b>: being told "No"; getting out of the bath; shoes; clothes; diaper cream; donuts (we're running a DNA test about this one); yogurt; and hats.<br />
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We finally, FINALLY have a child who truly eats what we're eating. The best part? He LOVES bbq. I KNEW all those pulled pork sandwiches I craved when I was pregnant would pay off!<br />
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Health-wise, Teddy has reached the 4-ear-infection threshold, so we are going to the ENT and demanding tubes. Well, not demanding. But making a good case for them and being really politely persistent. </div>
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He's a sweetheart now, but I can already tell we're in for it later. </div>
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The way he just sits back and watches big sis and bro... </div>
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I just know he's analyzing their attacks and probing us for weaknesses.</div>
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Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-71707225877463360052014-12-26T19:26:00.003-08:002014-12-26T19:26:41.564-08:00Nine Months<br />
Where did the time go?<br />
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How did this guy turn 9 (cough, almost 10, cough) months old?</div>
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Teddy's no longer a docile little nugget, trapped in whatever position I place him.</div>
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Nope. He's all over the place.</div>
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What with sprouting 5 new teeth, pulling up to standing, and begging for food, our Mr. T has had a lot on his plate lately. </div>
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Abandoning purees completely, he eats anything that we eat, a feat that no other child in our household has ever accomplished. In fact, I feel so guilty not sharing certain off-limits foods with him (like shellfish, honey, etc.) that I have to sneak around to eat any granola bars or shrimp.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
And he'll tell you what he wants. <br />
When I picked my little bear up from school one day, his teacher told me, "I hope you don't mind, but I gave Teddy some of my pizza today." Of course I didn't mind, he'd been eating pizza with us for the last 2 months. But why?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
"Well, he scooted right over to me, sat up and started clapping and cooing and growling at me. I just couldn't say no!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It turns out, his teacher had Jet's pizza that day, and our little Bear is nothing if not a pizza connoisseur. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Favorite Foods: pizza, mashed potatoes, green beans, ravioli, chicken, hamburger, apples, cantaloupe, avocado, carrots. You name it, he eats it. If he weren't burning so many calories getting into EVERYTHING, I might be worried about him becoming as wide as he is tall.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZqq_6gQRJpruwumqgLbIdGixIbobzhrXTfP2e3Kqbz6dRZW5noZB7AL8p_Z9F0xC7ZLnJuPQ3KJZtNILMIDqos8qtwtsppVjyaAcCAVoHUPiN0izoClVBUMNuqvFC7ChY03Sf9Yo/s1600/FullSizeRender(48).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZqq_6gQRJpruwumqgLbIdGixIbobzhrXTfP2e3Kqbz6dRZW5noZB7AL8p_Z9F0xC7ZLnJuPQ3KJZtNILMIDqos8qtwtsppVjyaAcCAVoHUPiN0izoClVBUMNuqvFC7ChY03Sf9Yo/s1600/FullSizeRender(48).jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
As I mentioned before, he's quite the communicator. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Clapping is his preferred way of telling us he wants something, but he also finds grunting, growling, and yelling quite effective.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Or, if he's within striking distance of an object he wants, he'll just steal it.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Though he continues to battle teeth and ear discomfort, T's a pretty happy guy.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He flirts with anything in a skirt and is working on blowing kisses.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Hair-pulling is still a signature move, but he's added eye-gouging and kicking to his repertoire.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it's really no wonder: every time I turn around, he's being tackled or wrestled by a territorial older sibling protecting turf or toy. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
This guy is gonna be tough.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But the sibs had better watch out: Big T is pulling up on ANYTHING, and I mean ANYTHING. Drawers, legs, the dishwasher, Sarah and Will, the man wants to stand, and he is relentless.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not only does he want to stand, Teddy is starting to cruise. He'll go from leg to table, drawer to outstretched hand, often with a tumble along the way. Like I said, he's tough, so he doesn't usually cry, he just looks surprised and then gets back into the fray.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Now that he's more consistently crawling on all-fours or cruising,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I call him my Bulldog, since he's got the build and the mentality of one.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
So, what makes this guy tick?</div>
<br />
Turn-ons: taking off his socks; no-handed pant-removal; swinging at the park; power naps; eating books; drinking out of a real cup.<br />
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Turn-offs: naps; sippy cups; wearing hats, shoes, or socks; solitary confinement (the exersaucer, high-chair, or crib).<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
So, here's to a new year and the countdown to the big 0-1!</div>
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No more Christmas music for a year! </div>
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Woohoo!</div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-71789558579660065242014-12-09T18:48:00.004-08:002014-12-09T18:48:55.846-08:00He's Happy......and he knows it.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Except for this month. October was pretty crummy for Teddy. I'm actually writing this two months late because of just how rough it was on all of us. Sleep was lost, never to be recovered. Various ailments visited in sundry forms, all of which resulted in turning my laid-back, up-for-anything baby into a total fussbudget. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Now, fussbudget by Teddy's standards is still pretty easy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But, c'mon - we've got 3 of these boogers now.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
So, with all of the drama and unexplained night-waking, there must be some new teeth, right?</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Wrong.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttN2Jk-q-r1s3SuwgXav-bZgapS3TekNMdPPSTkdYtdHGyESbmWRDy9W1Mkv11ar4Ov3wDxXd1fHaPQh4_V5uzEFBGnJ-n65p1o5wGFVEGws0EpF9vkfkgm0w58dBLQQrBYzJbECO/s1600/FullSizeRender(40).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttN2Jk-q-r1s3SuwgXav-bZgapS3TekNMdPPSTkdYtdHGyESbmWRDy9W1Mkv11ar4Ov3wDxXd1fHaPQh4_V5uzEFBGnJ-n65p1o5wGFVEGws0EpF9vkfkgm0w58dBLQQrBYzJbECO/s1600/FullSizeRender(40).jpg" height="546" width="640" /></a></div>
Nonetheless, homeslice loves him some table food. He's totally over purees, grabbing at anything we eat.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbvLkkccnxcn776RiZa1M6nHXF1vsSafaiiisq_cWezCh8pOgKD5oOZhyLMmMGC9ecUN2LK7Ek00r-AEnEEobs7n6w2l80_z-LbYSUefVAzXx8Zh1lMwC4clhRRLlXFNYC3m1-WIY/s1600/IMG_5384(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbvLkkccnxcn776RiZa1M6nHXF1vsSafaiiisq_cWezCh8pOgKD5oOZhyLMmMGC9ecUN2LK7Ek00r-AEnEEobs7n6w2l80_z-LbYSUefVAzXx8Zh1lMwC4clhRRLlXFNYC3m1-WIY/s1600/IMG_5384(1).JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />Faves? <br />
<br />
Pizza, bread, celery, apples, and crackers. And leaves. I'm not gonna lie, this man has had some roughage, because, hey, he's #3 and sometimes he's plopped in a pile of leaves while I'm trying to break up a fight or help somebody ride without training wheels. For some reason, he loves a water bottle and will snatch it right out of his unsuspecting victim's mouth.<br />
<br />
He's quite opinionated and enthusiastic all around, in fact. He claps when he hears his jam ("If You're Happy and You Know It") of course, but also when he sees his favorite peeps or a toy he wants. <br />
<br />
Young Teddy has also mastered the stair down to the den and aspires to climb to greater heights as we've caught him eyeing the steps to the second floor. <br />
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There are no cute pictures of our little Harold and the Purple Crayon on Halloween, because, well, our Harold was not up to taking any moonlit strolls.<br />
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Or trick-or-treating. <br />
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Turns out, basing your family costume around an infant is a pretty dicey business. <br />
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Teddy and the family had a blast in St. Louis, and we had fun celebrating Mike's birthday! <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHX-BZ1KGV-eilRQ85XjBBqpYq23QnWQrHrjB0sg68_ZDsdyPJQF0Ya5_bovafwE1e1v51MIQHpKv-xSMxjEysAuK0Kz-H69h52pi8-LwN5O17icGWRTXIMGj_KsEI1tXM0OcTGd5-/s1600/FullSizeRender(12).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHX-BZ1KGV-eilRQ85XjBBqpYq23QnWQrHrjB0sg68_ZDsdyPJQF0Ya5_bovafwE1e1v51MIQHpKv-xSMxjEysAuK0Kz-H69h52pi8-LwN5O17icGWRTXIMGj_KsEI1tXM0OcTGd5-/s1600/FullSizeRender(12).jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arch-car simulator. We didn't drag the little one up to the top of the Arch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypdTHtNueXlnlvetuvx3QMgjJ4KxuCa7wNtuBwabZZTIo9fldsSMb2c3LikRCoMcF1KH4QiC3J_FDZma5gCEVfyvQTrayZsXsVJfGCoUxqq1iFV_uDM1RVUSHGcci8q_cfek4ex2n/s1600/FullSizeRender(14).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhypdTHtNueXlnlvetuvx3QMgjJ4KxuCa7wNtuBwabZZTIo9fldsSMb2c3LikRCoMcF1KH4QiC3J_FDZma5gCEVfyvQTrayZsXsVJfGCoUxqq1iFV_uDM1RVUSHGcci8q_cfek4ex2n/s1600/FullSizeRender(14).jpg" height="640" width="636" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down by the Arch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHV9Q4oRrLCiXXk3F5ncVqy3AAnJ4GXAgoprESvW2gmihjcBmGAh7O2Jv_ZXjtZhX0DDoVpFvcy2kQgVFtgawXj6Y8HodIYZCqOSVpY_xTUf1EFW_tCCbDIlIBsMdikDnI-SrIWHG/s1600/IMG_5104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHV9Q4oRrLCiXXk3F5ncVqy3AAnJ4GXAgoprESvW2gmihjcBmGAh7O2Jv_ZXjtZhX0DDoVpFvcy2kQgVFtgawXj6Y8HodIYZCqOSVpY_xTUf1EFW_tCCbDIlIBsMdikDnI-SrIWHG/s1600/IMG_5104.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best zoo ever.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Eight months are in the bag, and we can't imagine life without our littlest!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are really looking forward to the excitement of the holidays as a family of FIVE. </div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-83974389131895780542014-10-14T18:37:00.000-07:002014-10-14T18:37:02.456-07:00I Don't Think You're Ready......for this jelly.<br />
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Fish, that is. <br />
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I realize this post is about four months overdue, but it takes time to properly wish a princess "Happy Birthday". And my phone held these pictures hostage for awhile. <br />
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This summer, for her sixth birthday, Sarah requested a Mermaid-princess-theater-rockstar-hangout party. With minions. </div>
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Hmmmmm. </div>
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I was kind of at a loss, to say the least. But, then I taught a unit on ocean animals the last week of school and we ended the year with a pirate party, complete with shark attack photo booth. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
We named him Fluffy.</div>
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The kids adopted him for their very own </div>
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and so we took the Under the Sea theme and ran with it. </div>
<br />
Though Fluffy is my pride and joy, I got a leeetle carried away making these jellyfish guys for decoration.<br />
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These guys were supposed to crisscross overhead on the patio, a la Finding Nemo, but, alas, it threatened rain the entire morning before the party, so I kept them indoors. </div>
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From Will's and my Jaws t-shirts, to the shark bite wreath welcoming guests at the front door, </div>
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the party had a decidedly toothy bent. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
The rain held off, though, and we filled up the inflatable pool, slipped on swimsuits, and took the party outside. </div>
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<br /></div>
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There are basically no good pictures of party action, because the photographer and the cruise director were one and the same: ME. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Activities included splashing in the pool,</div>
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trampolining with pool noodles, and a no-handed donut-eating contest.</div>
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I don't have the donut-eating contest on film, but the kids had a blast trying to eat like fish on a line. The setup was easy: I tied some twine between two trees and threaded donuts on it. The kids lined up across from their chosen donut, and ate as fast as possible before it hit the ground.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_V9cK48Ikzi91v7j7skk4vUZc6FWtwtAUUmRIiMajkdLtpw9NzHYwdg4SJHSoCVugS5O7-hYkM6t6zMYWduq03h73WSyXeoY8G1xVVsgFnqgZ1v4uCKi09_0vT_8uBBvoy4_VZXb/s1600/005.JPG" height="426" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birthday girl.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There was also a photo booth of the princess-y kind, ready for some goofy fun. </div>
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We needed a little somethin' for the ladies, so a mermaid photo prop made from a tri-fold presentation poster board did the trick.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
While most of the guests braved the water or the trampoline, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
others enjoyed the little shark-themed corn hole game I whipped up about 2 hours before party time.</div>
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I was so shocked this idea actually panned out! </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Yet another tri-fold board made an appearance, this time cut on a slant and secured with duct tape to raise it off the ground. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
And so, Feed the Chum to Fluffy was born.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, you need bean bags in a jiffy?<br />
Just gather some beans or rice, a roll of duct tape, and some zipper sandwich bags.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Voila!</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
The party ended with blue-iced cupcakes topped with drink umbrellas, shark fins, and Teddy Grahams</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
As simple as the decor, the setup, and the food were, a good time was had by all! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
My best girl rang in year 7 in style, and we can't wait to see what the rest of the year has in store!</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-49517806400756137952014-10-10T04:25:00.000-07:002014-10-10T04:25:11.067-07:007 Months (And Some Change)Is it just me, or do these Teddy milestone posts keep getting further and further apart? I guess it's just the season of life that our family is in, but it's like we're sprinting.<br />
<br />
Uphill.<br />
<br />
For 26.2 miles.<br />
<br />
Anyway, Teddy is a big part of what's keeping us busy, and he's been a busy dude this past month himself. <br />
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Sleep has been touch and go this past month, but it has gotten steadily better than the vortex of snot and pain that we were dealing with in August.<br />
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Our little bear has been doing some growing, but he's still on the pocket-sized end of the height and weight charts, and we're okay with that. If you plant corn, you're not going to get pumpkins, right? And neither Mike nor I are exactly giants.<br />
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So what does Mr. Teddy like these days? Let's take a look.<br />
<br />
Turn-ons: <br />
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<ul>
<li>Table food (we share a plate of eggs every morning, and he gets rowdy waiting for his lunch and dinner)</li>
<li>Grabbing plates and bowls off the table and dumping them in laps; grabbing spoons on their way to his mouth</li>
<li>Baths/pouring water </li>
<li>Speaking his mind </li>
<li>Big brother's and sister's Pez dispensers - they're an especially good chew</li>
<li>Army crawling </li>
<li>His Kevin the Bird softie</li>
<li>Taking off his pants without using his hands </li>
<li>Escaping.</li>
</ul>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKbWobBczPYrhW4gWZOdgoD-2YWmCgeT_ezsLTxeE3dhRqwQwmkylgO5CxpwmB4mhNiecTX4_zwrfUCrkunqZbJjVBNqOVkyTgdOvPLoj1iU03jKnkek-N_ms99hSxc5qLlP7HU6L/s1600/FullSizeRender(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKKbWobBczPYrhW4gWZOdgoD-2YWmCgeT_ezsLTxeE3dhRqwQwmkylgO5CxpwmB4mhNiecTX4_zwrfUCrkunqZbJjVBNqOVkyTgdOvPLoj1iU03jKnkek-N_ms99hSxc5qLlP7HU6L/s1600/FullSizeRender(5).jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who? Me?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Teddy's repeated escape attempts have earned him the alias "Houdini" and a one-way </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ticket to the maximum security wing of the Big House, aka: the exersaucer.</div>
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Another new phenomenon around is the arch. No, not the Gateway to the West. We're talking about a signature Teddy move used whenever he's being put somewhere he doesn't want to be. As an inmate with multiple escape attempts and a penchant for log-rolling his way off of elevated surfaces, the Bear has been relegated to solitary confinement or the floor. But he doesn't want to just sit quietly on the floor with a Mumm-Mumm or a toy. Nope. So, he arches his back and stiffens his legs as straight as a board, very suddenly, I might add, becoming quite slippery and hard to handle. What this accomplishes, I'm not sure, but his silent protests are increasingly frustrating to the parental units.<br />
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Turn-offs: <br />
<ul>
<li>Socks (seriously, people, what is the point of putting socks on a baby? There is no contouring, no curves for the elastic to grab ahold of. It's just cankle with a Hobbit foot stuck on it.);</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Actually <i>being</i> a baby: this guy is beside himself because he can't hang with the big kids yet. He wants to get down and wrestle with them, chase them, and <strike>play with</strike> chew their toys. I have heard Mr. T actually try to jump in whatever raucous yelling match with them in his own language. </li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>His carseat. We spent 5 hours on Tuesday driving home from St. Louis, and Teddy's been refusing to get in it ever since, even busting an Arch yesterday morning before leaving the doctor's office.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Milk. The big guy would rather have what we're having, please and thank you. </li>
</ul>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, Teddy. You've become a total pain just like the rest of us, and we love you for it!</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-36324459755178843702014-09-07T04:30:00.001-07:002014-09-07T04:30:59.002-07:00Sleep, Interrupted<div style="text-align: center;">
Yep. My mythical creature finally turned into a real baby. You know, the kind who goes through teething, a cold, and a growth spurt back-to-back-to-back. </div>
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Oh, and did I mention that this all went down in the first three weeks of school? </div>
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Things are getting a wee bit better, but sleep is still the top priority. </div>
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It's the rabbit and I'm the (slow, arthritic) greyhound.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Anyhoo, Teddy turned six months old this past week,</div>
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marking the end of a very busy month for my little bear. </div>
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He started school and solid foods, and popped two teeth!</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
He was also baptized over Labor Day weekend.</div>
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Yes, he's very busy these days.</div>
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Mostly our little Grabby McGrabberson is trying to get his fat fists on anything he possibly can. From pizza to Legos, earlobes to Hot Wheels, nothing escapes his notice or his attempts at possession.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
My favorite necklace and not a few books have fallen victim to this guys' destructive side. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But, he keeps us laughing, so we keep him around. </div>
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He totally feels like a stud in his new high chair, and his range with green beans is impressive to say the least. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
We don't go to the doc until next week, so I don't have any stats for you of the technical variety. </div>
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But, I will say that our Mighty Mite is outgrowing his stuff at a decent clip. It's kind of put us in a bind, though, 'cause I really don't want to buy a whole bunch of warm-weather stuff for the next month and a half. For now, he'll just have to rock the camel-toe (I'm sorry I just wrote that), </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
until this unholy summer skedaddles and the temps cool down from 147 degrees to, like, 70. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Messy hair, don't care.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Yummy baby feet.</div>
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I'm not ashamed to say that these little Hobbit feet have spent an inordinate amount of time being kissed by me.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
So, what else has been going on with this guy? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, he loves me the most. (Yay!) I try not to think about the fact that there will come a time, all too soon, that I will either be a target or a fixture, like a lamp or something. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Likes: Kicking. Nonstop. </div>
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He also really likes finger food. Mum-mums are a hit, but Big Bro had to show him how to eat them first.<br />
T gains a certain amount of satisfaction from pulling his siblings' hair and scratching their eyeballs out. His signature move with Will is to grab his big brother's hair when he's leaned over to kiss and annoy him for the 85th time in five minutes, thusly turning the tables and trapping Will in his vise-like grip.<br />
<br />
There's not much this boy doesn't like. Unless you count sleeping in. Or really just sleeping. It might be a typical third child thing, but he's not too keen on being left out of the fun, either. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Well, I guess that does it. </div>
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I love this pic because this is exactly the pose his big sister has slept in for the better part of her lifetime.</div>
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Here's bonus video of Mr. T doing what boys do best.</div>
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And that's makin' some noise!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwrGlwYWjh1tRICMthuPctacm2-AhTqheGoL1J7RYjkUlIqUu8Sw4ckMWcef-VvJYaNG0tj76XkL-8NF_cfNw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Keep a weather-eye out for more than one post this month. </div>
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Between grant-writing, Daisy scouting, and lesson-planning, I make no promises.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But, it could happen. Maybe. </div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-19082569216028497952014-08-03T18:38:00.001-07:002014-08-03T18:38:33.705-07:00Five Months<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This happiest of boys is just now five months old. The funny thing is, I can't remember life without him. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQQDUswlSgdl3aJzNtvmQjxWVqFknvnwLpzadGw46c_9GemmjvG-fMG_VLonUotPXpXYwDeFbHREZWz_PPlXU30KuM0BO_mJ2rd-wtegR9iG0u-OV9COHZH7LoCwCNAuADSUkukOA/s1600/photo+2(25).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfQQDUswlSgdl3aJzNtvmQjxWVqFknvnwLpzadGw46c_9GemmjvG-fMG_VLonUotPXpXYwDeFbHREZWz_PPlXU30KuM0BO_mJ2rd-wtegR9iG0u-OV9COHZH7LoCwCNAuADSUkukOA/s1600/photo+2(25).JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He hasn't been measured or weighed lately, so I don't have any stats of that nature. He's growing like a weed, and well he should be, since he's eating like a horse. </div>
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This guy has been working on some big things this last month. </div>
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Like sitting up all by his big self.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcMa-H17qXATzbkNudVTcG3fjdMf4fnuYeMzyxSCt2tUiWC_TxeYXctzgqLWvAqH_TV13wqXJinRwWw3zZntPDasWgN-2T9Rt0diwt9Y8F2wwRxDriptcNtyIcTDAsvYifoQixtl8/s1600/photo+4(13).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEcMa-H17qXATzbkNudVTcG3fjdMf4fnuYeMzyxSCt2tUiWC_TxeYXctzgqLWvAqH_TV13wqXJinRwWw3zZntPDasWgN-2T9Rt0diwt9Y8F2wwRxDriptcNtyIcTDAsvYifoQixtl8/s1600/photo+4(13).JPG" height="506" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Oh, and does anybody know of a market for earwax or drool?<br />
Between Sarah and Teddy, we could make a killing.<br />
Teddy burns through about 5 bibs a day, but he hasn't popped a tooth so far. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Even though the kids were a little disappointed initially to find out that we were having a human instead of a puppy, the way this guy chews on EVERYTHING, it's kind of like we do. </div>
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Sarah and I have learned to wear our hair back since those fat fists grab at any stray strand in his orbit. Watch out: he steals noses too.</div>
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Though Teddy is a laid-back, go-with-the-flow kinda guy, he's no doormat. You mess with his food, sleep routine, or fail to change a dirty diaper, and he will let you know.</div>
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Like his siblings, my T likes to talk. In addition to coos and grunts, he's got a whole retinue of sounds ranging from squeaks to growls. </div>
<br />
Unfortunately, little dude inherited my legs and my gourd-shaped noggin. But they look good on him.<br />
<br />
So, what does he like?<br />
<br />
Music: "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" is his favorite lullaby, but he loves to do a little "If You're Happy and You Know It" as well.<br />
<br />
Toys: he loves his grape chew-toy and his banana teether, and he's wild about his exersaucer. Until he's not.<br />
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Food: Mostly milk, but he's trying some big-boy foods. Rice cereal is out, but bananas straight out of the peel are in. He's super-interested in what we're eating, and last night he snuck a lick of my French fry. <br />
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Play: Teddy loves to splash in the water! We've taken him to the pool a few times and he's splashed in our paddling pool at home. During bathtime, he stretches out his feet to kick his feet in the water.<br />
<br />
Hand-holding: If Will is a champion hugger, his little brother is a gold-medalist in holding hands. When he's in the car, when he's eating, or when he's snuggling down for bedtime, Big T likes to wrap his chubby fingers around any hand that's available. And that's A-Okay with me. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
I present Exhibit A for your perusal. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLakB7XZFgl0YiyDUcMczxJv6YpWUaX0kZET484ciFtUPQwB0qQP11tLddk7Nava2oxIbyVwBxFgYGNAH_bOEzzVFQCW360TiioxzxLwmISnfJTDpnq98h-Zd6S4LTe3E9MRGlLsnt/s1600/053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLakB7XZFgl0YiyDUcMczxJv6YpWUaX0kZET484ciFtUPQwB0qQP11tLddk7Nava2oxIbyVwBxFgYGNAH_bOEzzVFQCW360TiioxzxLwmISnfJTDpnq98h-Zd6S4LTe3E9MRGlLsnt/s1600/053.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teddy takes his first swim in a pickup truck turned into a pool. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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So, let's talk about turn-offs. There aren't too many, but my wee man has strong opinions just the same.</div>
<ul>
<li>That sun hat. Hates it.</li>
<li>Rice cereal. So much hate.</li>
<li>Smacking himself in the face with a toy. Rage and hate.</li>
</ul>
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And...</div>
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That's about all the time I have for this.</div>
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I have to get back to snuggling this sweet baby.</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-46656090307109525612014-07-24T11:39:00.001-07:002014-07-24T11:39:39.898-07:0035 and Pregnant<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's how pregnancy usually works around here: Mike changes jobs, I change OB's,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> and <b>whammo!</b> I find myself with child. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Typically, we're going through a few major life changes at the time as well, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">just to make things interesting. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This pregnancy was no different, except for this time around my OB/GYN is Bette Midler. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And I turned 35 in the middle of it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now, I know there are people who, like, <i>plan </i>their families and stick to a timeline. </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are also people who still think 30 is old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't fall into either of those categories, but my (former) OB does, at least about the latter. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">No sooner do I get decked out in the paper towel at the confirmation appointment, than she starts dropping "Advanced Maternal Age" bombs like the Enola Gay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Whatever. I have bigger fish to fry, like a full-time job and graduate night classes to finish. But, the fun doesn't end with her looking at me like I'm a naughty child. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Well, your eggs are old," I'm told, "We need to schedule an appointment with the<strike> Crypt Keeper</strike> expired eggs specialist."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> I'm cool with it because it means I get an extra ultrasound, so we put it on the schedule,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> and I walk out through the casting call for <i>Teen Mom</i>/waiting room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(Hmmm...<i> I'm</i> the high-risk one?) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fast-forward 2 weeks, and I'm back in a doctor's office, but this time we're going to talk about how my eggs are expired and my ovaries are wilted. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Or something. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">First up is the ultrasound, and I see my little seahorse just a-bouncin' around in there, blissfully unaware of us. By the way, why are ultrasound techs so darn cool? We had a grand time discussing third children, surprises, and career changes </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">until it was time to wipe the goo off and meet with the MD.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm led into an artificially "comfy" room to have a seat on the couch across from the cross-legged, grey-faced doc. This guy is about as warm and fuzzy as Hannibal Lecter, with all the charm and sparkling wit of the Grinch. The whole setup smacks of a psych evaluation </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(<i>So, tell me about your secret stash of empty toilet paper rolls and glass jars, Mrs. Brown.</i>), and my hackles are up. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Crypt Keeper launches into a description of the various tests they can run on me and the baby, blah, blah, blah. I take notes so I can report back to Mike, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">but all I'm thinking is, "None of this is going to change anything."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At the end of this little tete-a-tete, as I gather my things and say goodbye, Dr. Keeper gives me a probing look and says, "That's the first time I've seen you smile. How are you feeling about this pregnancy? I wonder if you might be a little depressed. I could refer you to somebody..."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh, no he didn't. I round on him and curse the fact that I don't wear earrings,</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> 'cause I'd be taking them off for a fight right about now.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The man met me 15 minutes ago and he has that kind of GALL?!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"No, I'm not depressed. I guess your sunny bedside manner and the super-cheery, *light* topics we were discussing didn't really bring out my bubbly side. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You want to know what I'm really like? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Talk to your ultrasound technician. We are done here."</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wish I had said exactly that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mostly I tried not to stutter or tear up in rage </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(because I'm an angry crier) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and just got out of there as fast as my Hoveround could go.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Thanks, doc, but I'll pass on your tests and consultations. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You can keep your advice and your sour looks, and STOP CALLING ME OLD.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, how am I going to wake my elderly self up in the night with a newborn? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I guess I'll just have to sleep in my hearing aids and </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">make sure my walker has brand new tennis balls.</span></div>
<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-66838439679768235032014-07-15T12:21:00.002-07:002014-07-15T12:23:40.591-07:00'Merica!<div style="text-align: center;">
What an awesome long weekend we just had!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Based on our experiences this spring, expectations were pretty low. I mean, at this point, if nobody goes to the hospital, then I'm pretty content.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But, the stars were aligned, the weather was ABSOLUTELY gorgeous, and Mike didn't work for three straight days. Translation: I actually had time to enjoy and be nice to my kids.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We kicked off the weekend with an end-of-session picnic on the lawn of Sarah's camp. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJA6BA5XyYFMGbruCZAQOz2G8w32iXxW-MGVxHr47wxvKjHLIZI4BU3YiqXgAdB3Fi0fF5HxkmYT7plxOmrClgQySk4X6h6uDXep2NfDm-njA9v8CDaqCLLMIa2U2kKREfFmdHjGz/s1600/007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYJA6BA5XyYFMGbruCZAQOz2G8w32iXxW-MGVxHr47wxvKjHLIZI4BU3YiqXgAdB3Fi0fF5HxkmYT7plxOmrClgQySk4X6h6uDXep2NfDm-njA9v8CDaqCLLMIa2U2kKREfFmdHjGz/s1600/007.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boys.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZTDX1pOe3dGeOsVEljaIXtSpqciWVWXA0HBX9uVtmUTs4siVA00TiYmzIu2YPGJyX4hAarE14U5JsacfNAqr-mAaDqRWnUJ4ac9_yy40TGyqVt0nAALbauiSIuexEF6_xBE5ZEDZ/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMZTDX1pOe3dGeOsVEljaIXtSpqciWVWXA0HBX9uVtmUTs4siVA00TiYmzIu2YPGJyX4hAarE14U5JsacfNAqr-mAaDqRWnUJ4ac9_yy40TGyqVt0nAALbauiSIuexEF6_xBE5ZEDZ/s1600/018.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why, Teddy, what big eyes you have!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
In addition to performing camp songs (one of which was a song I learned
when I was a camper), each team performed skits of their own creation. Now, Sarah told me that she was responsible for coming up with the idea for her team's skit, but I was a little skeptical. </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
But, after seeing her confidence and commitment to her role as Merliah the Mermaid, I'm thinking she was right on. I also did NOT expect to see my girl so sure of herself on the microphone, but she seemed to be totally in her element. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
After the skits and ice cream sundaes, the night swimming s'more-making, and <strike>glamping</strike> <a href="http://ahouseofbrown.blogspot.com/2014/07/how-to-survive-in-wilderness.html">camping</a> got underway.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Groggy, tired, and sore, we woke up the next morning only to face round 2 of super summer festivities in the form of July 4th. After everybody enjoyed some post-swimming naps, we were ready to carpe the diem out of this Independence Day!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Will enjoyed removing the training wheels from his bike and practicing riding in the grass.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPS7LIpZ-Qd42VMu9pUgByg-eTXwH0ILM_IEYUXmEZ5v_KBOMcqQ1Zoln_NeUSPUFYime0LPco7yQRImk6infnf10xMMSRp0JgDU7fd9ckZaxXx3SIOFCCXIi4-mRz-ZJ1CJl-DCn/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPS7LIpZ-Qd42VMu9pUgByg-eTXwH0ILM_IEYUXmEZ5v_KBOMcqQ1Zoln_NeUSPUFYime0LPco7yQRImk6infnf10xMMSRp0JgDU7fd9ckZaxXx3SIOFCCXIi4-mRz-ZJ1CJl-DCn/s1600/043.JPG" height="640" width="425" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Does it get more 'merican than this?</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Homemade red, white, and blue sno-kones were a hit! (Thanks, Aunt Sarah.)</div>
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My mom wanted pictures of the offspring in their flag tees, so we took a stab at that on full bellies.</div>
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Score! </div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Nobody has blue lips, but that tattoo of Sarah's is a stubborn one.</div>
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Then, it was off to see the fireworks from atop a hill.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aDckSmTwsumBYKOtCkfQDclZnmAXMJ0W7NJo_Lc6DMxujwkLBDB7v_RBlXMjHJvBwc9qiKjjVaSOQuV1QT91a5RRp9CNp7YE7pgMAArkfKsaXoHdP3JiKHOfR-PbHAqTauU5pKR3/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8aDckSmTwsumBYKOtCkfQDclZnmAXMJ0W7NJo_Lc6DMxujwkLBDB7v_RBlXMjHJvBwc9qiKjjVaSOQuV1QT91a5RRp9CNp7YE7pgMAArkfKsaXoHdP3JiKHOfR-PbHAqTauU5pKR3/s1600/004.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Almost) perfect view of the city.</td></tr>
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The obligatory hill-rolling commenced, with Will as the reigning champ.</div>
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I even rolled down the hill myself.</div>
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Teddy's pretty serious about his nighttime routine, </div>
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and this is his "quit dragging me around - I just need my bath and my crib" face.</div>
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Will settled into his fireworks-watching seat.</div>
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And so did Teddy and I.</div>
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Once the sun set, glow sticks and necklaces were in order.</div>
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Turns out, Dollar Tree glow sticks break really easily.</div>
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In the spirit of "making lemonade", the kids gave themselves glow-in-the-dark face paint.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Teddy was pretty impressed with the fireworks display.</div>
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And we all tumbled back in the car tired, happy, and a little bit itchy from the hill-rolling.</div>
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I guess the days of my kids falling asleep with glow-sticks clutched in chubby fists are over, at least until Teddy's old enough to carry the torch.</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-28652238303212999332014-07-09T10:12:00.003-07:002014-07-09T10:12:46.989-07:00How to Survive in the Wilderness<div style="text-align: center;">
Finally, FINALLY, I went camping with Sarah. Outside. In an actual tent. All night, on the hard ground.</div>
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I am woman, hear me roar!</div>
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This was seriously roughing it: four females, one tent, on a country club soccer field. </div>
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The only light came from the tennis courts. Oh, and a penguin Flashlight Friend (As Seen On TV! Only $19.99 plus shipping and handling!).</div>
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We had to survive 10 hours under brutally mild conditions, with only one stick to roast our marshmallows and dwindling Hershey's bar provisions.</div>
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Let me set the scene for you a bit. Our foray into wilderness survival began with a family night closing out two weeks of day camp in Belle Meade. The people who run the camp sent out a standing invitation for any campers and their families to camp on the soccer fields of the country club, nestled between the tennis courts and the pools. I started getting a little nervous, once I found out we'd be the only moms camping, and only one of six tents out there. The weather was just spectacular, in spite of many prayers (and possibly a sacrificial animal) for rain on mine and my friend Kathleen's part. Even though my halfhearted attempts to locate a tent on FB failed, Kathleen came through with a snug 4-person job that fit us quite nicely. </div>
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It felt a little like a game of chicken, seeing which of us would be the first to brave the tears of our daughters and bow out of the challenge, but we saw the whole thing through. </div>
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Sarah and I performed purely decorative and comic roles during the tent set-up, but we came through with flying colors on the marshmallow-roasting. My marshmallows resembled charcoal briquettes in taste and consistency, while Sarah hovered so far outside the reach of the flames that her s'mores were positively sushi-grade.</div>
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After that, those crazy girls did a little night-swimming while us moms shivered and watched their lips turn blue while they insisted the water felt great!</div>
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Finally, it was time to hit the sack.</div>
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It turns out that the six-year-olds are pretty hardcore about their beauty sleep.</div>
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These two shushed us moms until we stopped chit-chatting.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night-night.</td></tr>
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We made it through the night, with the only major challenges posed by heavy dew and a lot of stairs up to the bathroom. I don't know if camping will be a regular thing for us in the future, but my girl seemed satisfied with this lite version for now.</div>
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Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-62918993749483847822014-07-03T09:24:00.001-07:002014-07-03T09:24:14.878-07:00Four Month Stats: They See Me Rollin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This guy.</div>
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Wow. I never thought I'd say this, but I want time to slow waaaay down with him. Because this - THIS is why people like babies. Happy, flirting, talking, cooing, exploring - this guy is into it all. <br />
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Earlier this month, littlest dude took a trip down to Daytona and was the only one whose sleep schedule remained uninterrupted. Among other things, he actually SLEPT IN THE PACK-N-PLAY, an unprecedented occurrence in our family heretofore. Believe me, Mike and I <strike>wept with joy</strike> celebrated at that major milestone.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrvWwN6O1YQXYHYcb01XheGzqjEPR-MerQK5cyTnw6Zqi6A5cAdB9kJq_MQuJBDSt7DxPcYX0fX7zb1pmEyg-qkVUVP5cuc9sA6V9bkCztrhlsf9FiAEeMDOIUrmRpBd62ciVPlYq/s1600/040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrvWwN6O1YQXYHYcb01XheGzqjEPR-MerQK5cyTnw6Zqi6A5cAdB9kJq_MQuJBDSt7DxPcYX0fX7zb1pmEyg-qkVUVP5cuc9sA6V9bkCztrhlsf9FiAEeMDOIUrmRpBd62ciVPlYq/s1600/040.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lest you think all is sunshine and roses, there have been a few hiccups along the way. </div>
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That glorious sleep we've been experiencing almost from his birth? </div>
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It's been interrupted.</div>
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Because, sometimes a man's got to do what a man's got to do.</div>
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Like waking up at 1:30 am to practice rolling.</div>
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And chatting.</div>
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And flirting.</div>
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Mommy doesn't feel super-flirtatious at 1:30 am.</div>
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Anyway, he's perfected that particular skill and refuses to stay on his tummy or back for any length of time, now, so, perhaps I'll get back to a solid 8-hours every night.</div>
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Height: 24 inches</div>
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Weight: a slim 14 pounds</div>
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Teddy's on the low end of the whole percentile thing, except for head circumference. And, presumably, calf circumference. I think he inherited my legs (and gourd-shaped head) so maybe we have ourselves a future soccer star? Not that squash-shaped heads are required for aptitude in soccer. Or that I was very good at soccer. But soccer players have big calves.</div>
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Anyway.<br />
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Turn-ons: Being sung to (Tina Turner and Three Dog Night really get a smile out of him); his exersaucer; prompt service; having his hands and feet "eaten"; blowing raspberries; talking; baths; his crib; and his honeycomb toys. Playing fetch with his humans is a particularly fun game. He's chewing everything and drooling all over himself, so he's gnawed on some cantaloupe and carrots a bit. Though the taste of produce is preferable to his siblings' knuckles, he prefers his own hands or my knuckles.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYtXphBBk3nnybSUhp5WmyfaruNgPeRtJ7hiifwtphLsnUipuCBz3Z7m9p5uMNGCuVBtQ_JMsxP4ZRDwE5ku8U6wQ-uqIGu9XZ3iM4-cQ52rHRHMnarYqW6X86q5lZQl5cK2UCM-Z/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQYtXphBBk3nnybSUhp5WmyfaruNgPeRtJ7hiifwtphLsnUipuCBz3Z7m9p5uMNGCuVBtQ_JMsxP4ZRDwE5ku8U6wQ-uqIGu9XZ3iM4-cQ52rHRHMnarYqW6X86q5lZQl5cK2UCM-Z/s1600/048.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
Teddy is so nosy, he hates to be carried facing in, trying to escape whatever infant carrier I have so cruelly subjected him to. One time, he tried to crawl out the side of the Ergobaby, but his usual escape route is over the top. Literally.<br />
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However, we have found a solution in the Baby K'tan.</div>
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I give you: the Adventure Position.</div>
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As uncomfortable as this looks, littlest man doesn't seem to mind. He rode like this the whole way around Cheekwood recently, enduring everything from giant bugs to an Andy Warhol exhibit quite happily.</div>
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Turn-offs: Shots; wet/dirty diapers; being misunderstood; wedging his head in a corner of the bed (too much rolling); carrots; his car seat; lack of independence; the Ergobaby.<br />
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Teddy's newest favorite song is "Yankee Doodle", and I'm sure he'll be hearing it on heavy rotation this long weekend. Hope it's a great one for you!</div>
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Happy Independence Day!</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-79363566084502330272014-06-15T05:04:00.001-07:002014-06-15T05:04:15.319-07:00Two-Dimensional Adventures<div style="text-align: center;">
Have you ever wished you could mail yourself somewhere? I've often thought that vacations would be less work and more relaxing if I could just ship our family via UPS. </div>
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Alas, it's illegal to ship actual humans, but I've found the next best thing!</div>
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This post has been about a year in the making. Not because it's just that awesome or anything, but because I couldn't figure out the best medium in which to present the information. </div>
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And because this past year has been crazy with a capital "C". </div>
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But it hasn't been crazy just for our family, it's been exciting for Mike's whole family. Since last July, 2 of Mike's brothers have gotten married and 3 baby cousins have been born (including Teddy). </div>
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I've been intrigued with the idea of sending the kids on a "Flat Stanley"- style adventure, ever since seeing <a href="http://www.deliacreates.com/2012/06/orange-diy-stationary-snail-mail.html">this post</a>. Well, last summer, I finally got my act together and did it. </div>
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You see, my husband's younger brother was getting married in the Phillippines, and we were not able to attend. I thought it was a fantastic opportunity to teach my little Ugly Americans (and myself) about other parts of the world, but how to go about it when the pupils in question are 5 and 3? </div>
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That's where the 2-D versions of the kiddos come in.</div>
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See, at this age, they're very concrete thinkers. </div>
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They also think the world revolves around them. </div>
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So, if I want to get them to look at and be interested in pictures of people and places on the other side of the world, I have to put my little peeps IN the pictures, too. </div>
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And it worked! </div>
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Is there somewhere you'd like to go this summer, but can't <i>actually</i> get there?</div>
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Do you have relatives far away that you aren't able to visit?</div>
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Send yourself or your kids in the mail.</div>
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Here's what I did:</div>
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1. Take a variety of full-length pictures of the subjects in question.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwahiTxGXZYvfVMjfH-cIqocO58VDq1qIqRtwpDQ7_kwvm_aIR91uuTmanK-W3NUrbqt_VI7kKtfgwaPwmPqmuWY6ToMTOGTQzvl2cSb1-xEJ4H7SAQyRTXvBO9VVmtVy4sLFA_9t7/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwahiTxGXZYvfVMjfH-cIqocO58VDq1qIqRtwpDQ7_kwvm_aIR91uuTmanK-W3NUrbqt_VI7kKtfgwaPwmPqmuWY6ToMTOGTQzvl2cSb1-xEJ4H7SAQyRTXvBO9VVmtVy4sLFA_9t7/s1600/026.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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I took a variety of poses, and ultimately chose one silly and one serious.</div>
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2. Blow up your image to your desired size.</div>
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I just wanted my kids to be the size of a regular piece of printer paper, so I printed them on a full page.</div>
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3. Laminate the images.</div>
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Laminate <i>before</i> you cut, so you're not cutting twice.</div>
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4. Cut closely around just the bodies of your "Stanley"s.</div>
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5. Stick those suckers in an envelope and mail them to an unsuspecting (or suspecting) relative or other such good sport. </div>
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6. Watch from the comfort of your own home as the aforementioned relatives gallavant across the globe, taking your "kids" along on their adventures. </div>
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We sent our Stanleys to Sarah and Will's Papa and Nana, and they took the idea and ran with it. I really didn't expect them to have so much fun with these little figurines, but they went way above and beyond all of my expectations. It was such fun seeing what adventures Flat Sarah and Will 2-D were having as the posts came up on Facebook or email. In fact, they took so many cool pictures, it was a challenge to compile them in such a way that was accessible to kids and adults alike. </div>
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In the end, I used my current favorite teaching medium: PowerPoint. </div>
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I set the slides to one of the kids' current favorite songs, and voila!</div>
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They've watched that thing over and over again, and giggle at the antics of their alter egos. </div>
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My plan was to post the PowerPoint presentation on the blog to share with you, but Blogger wouldn't let me.</div>
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So, I made a YouTube video (see below). The music is different, but the spirit is still the same. </div>
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Come follow along as Nana and Papa Brown take Flat Sarah and Will 2-D across the globe! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWK9E2YVtOrGCsOa2fHNOIzuRpEZNALw43Hwa2IVgpkrFKJURwr1jan5FvHDlCb4aJbdniKDXj6H1eoq9fQDHMq99lzWKepyAGhy83jethcgboHJc4db0WrxKlxOzJIZ9X6JEoUZl/s1600/Flat+Stanleys30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsWK9E2YVtOrGCsOa2fHNOIzuRpEZNALw43Hwa2IVgpkrFKJURwr1jan5FvHDlCb4aJbdniKDXj6H1eoq9fQDHMq99lzWKepyAGhy83jethcgboHJc4db0WrxKlxOzJIZ9X6JEoUZl/s1600/Flat+Stanleys30.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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Our journey starts in the airport, heading to Hawaii for a few days of touring Pearl Harbor,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NqbI2TM_1daGW3xC3ZHrq-c6w-4oqHYxLRX02gl8ZWSPo31myWP51W0MqDMq43mOiFTiFf161ReSMtMpbtapsmnoFcvRkcQGiL3nZSdph_HmSXkA-Nc05WY9UIVwuq9M0VUueKeL/s1600/Flat+Stanleys51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1NqbI2TM_1daGW3xC3ZHrq-c6w-4oqHYxLRX02gl8ZWSPo31myWP51W0MqDMq43mOiFTiFf161ReSMtMpbtapsmnoFcvRkcQGiL3nZSdph_HmSXkA-Nc05WY9UIVwuq9M0VUueKeL/s1600/Flat+Stanleys51.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a> </div>
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relaxing on the beach, and enjoying the aloha life. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpBehxlNea_iwJYJFFfYqszlNJciGPjEXmWmNncv_zn0_QtVqqCZJDSJ-shQVlf0jSUVqie-zAQeFnwcsgiLsyc3Ih0KbZYSJ8KSDa1uzONen_mcHULK80B4wZNiYT7MzoLPgVJNbO/s1600/Flat+Stanleys38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpBehxlNea_iwJYJFFfYqszlNJciGPjEXmWmNncv_zn0_QtVqqCZJDSJ-shQVlf0jSUVqie-zAQeFnwcsgiLsyc3Ih0KbZYSJ8KSDa1uzONen_mcHULK80B4wZNiYT7MzoLPgVJNbO/s1600/Flat+Stanleys38.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a> </div>
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From Hawaii, the g-parents head out to Manila, where they meet up with the bride's family and the rest of the brothers (Mike has 4, in case there's someone NOT related to us reading this blog). </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUq2W9x6uwsE2Uion81-A7PxXehXG_Yowo9-RgABLswnoMjYcwrCbuU5d1Kiv9PAMUOTDsTQXv5RpqdnQD4FSS6M0pKJ0tiRfRAMj242VMqY656Gs6EE1-HYZ5VQwB83LZhqxfF67X/s1600/Flat+Stanleys31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUq2W9x6uwsE2Uion81-A7PxXehXG_Yowo9-RgABLswnoMjYcwrCbuU5d1Kiv9PAMUOTDsTQXv5RpqdnQD4FSS6M0pKJ0tiRfRAMj242VMqY656Gs6EE1-HYZ5VQwB83LZhqxfF67X/s1600/Flat+Stanleys31.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a> </div>
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After the wedding, </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQiQz3RbQeuaAQ9OReJtAdxed4HPj0rKJZQcqdrCgAtgOD6uC_mhmROxvSJB2CtDlrDPKCd3HZSKGWtbwC2RvsbYIcdd9Ldzhpi0j1fNOlk8ZeYFB_7MmnaGikD_RnjkFJFY7602G/s1600/Flat+Stanleys24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQiQz3RbQeuaAQ9OReJtAdxed4HPj0rKJZQcqdrCgAtgOD6uC_mhmROxvSJB2CtDlrDPKCd3HZSKGWtbwC2RvsbYIcdd9Ldzhpi0j1fNOlk8ZeYFB_7MmnaGikD_RnjkFJFY7602G/s1600/Flat+Stanleys24.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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the newlyweds took the Yanks on a tour of Manila, including a cruise to some of the islands. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpF3bXl17Q8U1gEF4BCiBj-N4-kxqtPTOBYns-L8CMa0H0pTkw5jzpDV_01wt9Szl7_Ok8QQAEt8OvKGSc0eVEPZgk7TPXtPRJGIlRMOAenWM_ULzGm2kdXDVwBm8FkPhAlWXA4-A1/s1600/Flat+Stanleys20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpF3bXl17Q8U1gEF4BCiBj-N4-kxqtPTOBYns-L8CMa0H0pTkw5jzpDV_01wt9Szl7_Ok8QQAEt8OvKGSc0eVEPZgk7TPXtPRJGIlRMOAenWM_ULzGm2kdXDVwBm8FkPhAlWXA4-A1/s1600/Flat+Stanleys20.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a> </div>
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Then, it was back to the States and a little more aloha before touching down in Miami once again.</div>
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My in-laws said they had a blast with this, taking on the challenge with their typical joie de vivre. </div>
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Mike thought it'd be kind of a pain for them. I figured we'd get a picture or two. </div>
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In the end, I managed to snag about 50 of the shots that they sent via email or Facebook. </div>
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So, here they are. Enjoy!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/5WXyokcq75U?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-5101364844387107032014-06-12T04:17:00.001-07:002014-06-12T04:17:27.531-07:00Gimme a D!Y'all, it took me EONS to find out what #tbt meant. Like, I had to pose the question on Facebook after somebody tagged me in some photo circa 1997 or something. It turns out, there's a whole world of hashtags out there that I know nothing about. You really haven't lived until your mom tells you what #ootd means. Or, for that matter, your 5-year-old teaches you how to get a movie from Redbox. But, I digress. <br />
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I've been wanting to join in the throw-back fun, but I don't get real jazzed about photos pre-kids. Of course, now that I have children I am the bane of everyone's existence: blogging about them, printing out, texting, emailing, or posting photos of them on my wall (real and virtual). <br />
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Anyhoo, this picture is relatively unknown to everyone but me and Mike.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsJ8RU7gZEmcT6XyBjrng0_wbt7NBQ3Z22LU2MfnerdMxqO9ETDBPFKnyIWD8wJp4-_6U9A8k_6UREK6x5AieofgHF9fGn28eJ20YTql3E-nPvxp003A8unOiTIFITCle6QKIYrpaF/s1600/photo+4(11).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsJ8RU7gZEmcT6XyBjrng0_wbt7NBQ3Z22LU2MfnerdMxqO9ETDBPFKnyIWD8wJp4-_6U9A8k_6UREK6x5AieofgHF9fGn28eJ20YTql3E-nPvxp003A8unOiTIFITCle6QKIYrpaF/s1600/photo+4(11).JPG" height="529" width="640" /></a></div>
It was one in a series of photos I took as a gift for him for Father's Day, when the kids were almost 3 and 18 months. I'd never done a "photo shoot" and considered the term to be reserved only for studios, waif-like models, and somebody holding up a weird reflector thing. My shoot was timed right after nap and a cheese stick, and my models were paid in Pez candies. Our studio was the backyard, right next to the hydrangeas from our wedding in full bloom. <br />
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I had to take pictures fast, dancing around like a monkey and nipping any potential for drama in the bud. Sarah kept hunting for pine cones and getting distracted by bugs, while Will tried to pick his nose with the letter "A".<br />
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This might be against #tbt rules or something, but below are a few of my favorite shots. With Father's Day coming up, it's important to remember the main men in our lives. Just like with Redbox, the littles have to spell it out for us:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6a66bzno3eqeMJMr8aeO1MkMgYCpsFkvlp-D-RicxWUU7hXV7lTSV39iXVvh2dZyEgOrMMeH5oA3roapcgIKV9fONMf1vb-eky-I1hnT_mIcJOXGZdCEEG9KztovcLAqCydgFyiVQ/s1600/photo+1(21).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6a66bzno3eqeMJMr8aeO1MkMgYCpsFkvlp-D-RicxWUU7hXV7lTSV39iXVvh2dZyEgOrMMeH5oA3roapcgIKV9fONMf1vb-eky-I1hnT_mIcJOXGZdCEEG9KztovcLAqCydgFyiVQ/s1600/photo+1(21).JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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I've done a shoot like this every year since, and I tend to think they go easier than this first one. Even so, these pictures are some of our all-time favorites, second only to this year's photos with baby #3. </div>
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(I'm linking up with <a href="http://www.themomcreative.com/">The Mom Creative</a> for her Throwback Thursday Stories, so check it out!)<br />
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-57159141702557888022014-06-03T04:57:00.001-07:002014-06-03T04:57:04.488-07:00It's Not a Bad Thing......<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">to fall in love with T. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Sorry for ripping off your lyrics, JT, but it's true. At three months old, our little loveable TJ has changed my opinion of babies altogether. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Not only is this guy the happiest kid ever, but even 3 months out of the womb his comedic timing is spot-on. During the meningitis ordeal, after 2 blood tests, a catheter, a spinal tap, and an IV, he fell asleep in my arms with his hand resting against his cheek, his middle finger the sole digit pointing skyward for all to see. As the doctor walked in to tell us they were admitting us, I told him, "That's what Teddy thinks of spinal taps." Doc and I laughed together, and remembering my tough guy's silent message to the world was the only bright spot over the next few days.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Bpi45Xy9D0dYLfVt4Jxb-n0NrDd5xAGk9crdEj6x0H_bp4Fy5vjz8LD4U6HPKIoKJP6RblFhRbcQuepTXTruE0TIPRRAyE5pZTttnJ3rD1861XlyxiSs6emRJ2mzsGyvYaoqnZ32/s1600/photo(610).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3Bpi45Xy9D0dYLfVt4Jxb-n0NrDd5xAGk9crdEj6x0H_bp4Fy5vjz8LD4U6HPKIoKJP6RblFhRbcQuepTXTruE0TIPRRAyE5pZTttnJ3rD1861XlyxiSs6emRJ2mzsGyvYaoqnZ32/s1600/photo(610).JPG" height="489" width="640" /></a></div>
Just yesterday, time was slipping towards the witching hour and we were all sniping at each other, trouble bubbling toward the boiling point. Teddy sliced right through the tension with a huge toot and an even bigger grin, sending us all into a fit of giggles. <br />
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So, let's get down to brass tacks.<br />
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Hair: Ever lighter. He and Sarah seem to share the same coloring from head to toe, but we'll see.<br />
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Eyes: Blue and very serious.<br />
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Length: 22 inches, and longer every day.<br />
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Weight: 12 pounds.<br />
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Sleep: 9 hours every night. I promise I'm not lying. We are so lucky. Sleep is glorious.<br />
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Duds: Little dude skipped right over 3 months sizes and went straight to 6 months and up. <br />
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Turn-ons: Everything. He's busy and nosy and so darn frustrated that he can't quite be in the middle of the fray just yet. Teddy still loves ceiling fans, but he also cracks a lopsided grin whenever his big brother and sister come around. My little bear loves to hold hands, tries to stand at every opportunity, and sings along with anything from Beyonce to Old MacDonald. <br />
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Sarah came over while I was holding Big T, and we were giggling about what a drooler she was as a baby. I showed her how she stuck her tongue out all the time, and she stuck hers out too. We heard some coos, and looked at little bro, who was watching intently and sticking his tongue out too. Goofball.<br />
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Turn-offs: Hospital stays; laying still; being palmed in the face (yes, it still happens sometimes)<br />
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Language: Lots of "Goo". He gets so excited when you speak to him in Goo. I swear we did a duet to "All the Single Babies (Ladies)" the other day.<br />
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Activity: He's grabbing at everything these days, and rolling from front to back every once in awhile.<br />
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So, here's to three months and a whole lot more laughs!</div>
Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-19647540624211080952014-05-24T04:27:00.000-07:002014-05-24T04:27:18.977-07:00Strawberry Pickin'<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There's a pattern slowly but surely developing with us: in the middle of chaos, we seem to find ourselves at some farm picking our own fruit. Last summer, we <a href="http://ahouseofbrown.blogspot.com/2013/07/berry-picking.html">picked blackberries</a> as a welcome respite from night classes and <a href="http://ahouseofbrown.blogspot.com/2013/06/disney-domination.html">the land of Mickey</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This year, while Teddy was in the hospital a few weeks ago, I took a break from my bedside vigil and headed out with Sarah and Will and my mother-in-law in search of my favorite fruit, straight off the vine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Don't worry: neither of these children are in any danger of becoming renowned farmers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Approximately half a row into our little jaunt, the peeps bailed on the manual labor </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">in favor of see-sawing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I can't say that I blamed them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even I got tired of it after awhile, leaving Karin as the last (wo)man standing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">She soldiered on, row by row, filling her gallon plus Will's quart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the end our haul was impressive, especially once Karin supplemented our relatively slim pickings and bought a flat of already-picked berries.</span> </div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While their Nana wheeled-and-dealed, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">my mountain goats devoted themselves to climbing a pile of rocks,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">and digging holes to China.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This was serious business, seeing as how the general consensus was that China is where Jesus is. So...yeah.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I <i>think</i> we might need to make it to church a little more regularly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Up next: strawberry freezer jam production.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm putting these kiddos to work, washin' cars and mashin' strawberries.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What's on your Memorial Day agenda?</span></div>
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Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-68480217423850713512014-05-11T04:35:00.000-07:002014-05-11T04:35:30.899-07:00Mother's Day: Out of the Mouths of Babes<div style="text-align: center;">
Ah, Mother's Day. The one day of the year that every mom in the trenches would just like to spend not doing the very things that make her a mother. Every year, I have this fantasy that Mike will hand me the key to a hotel room with 5-star room-darkening shades and decent room service. And I would sleep. And sleep. And sleep. And not have to feed, clothe, bathe, or otherwise care for anyone else. </div>
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Instead, it lands on my least favorite day of the week, and Mike is usually working. </div>
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Sigh.</div>
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Don't get me wrong: I feel a little ashamed about this fantasy, but I don't think I'm alone in my sentiments. </div>
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And of course I love my children. </div>
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But every once in awhile it's nice to love them from afar, while somebody else breaks up fights, scrapes every tiny piece of rice off the chicken, and searches high and low for the missing Ninja Turtle sock. </div>
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Anyway, cheers to all the moms out there, taking it hour by hour and celebrating with overly-moist kisses and chubby arms around her neck!</div>
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Here are some interviews I did with the chilluns about me. </div>
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I think you'll find them enlightening, since I must be some sort of medical miracle.<br />
I guess I've earned the old lady jokes, since I do find 4:30 in the afternoon<br />
to be a perfectly acceptable time for dinner.</div>
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Enjoy!</div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-37780389300999862302014-05-10T06:20:00.001-07:002014-05-10T06:20:52.749-07:00Two Months<div style="text-align: center;">
One thing I've learned about Teddy is that this guy knows how to celebrate.</div>
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Seriously, he must have really wanted to mark the beginning of his third month of life in style, so he took us back to where it all began: the hospital. Yep, our family enjoyed 5-star accommodations just two floors down from labor and delivery. I'm pretty sure Teddy noticed the differences this time around, in that HE was the one with an IV stuck in his arm (and his leg). </div>
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Suffice it to say, Teddy was a pretty sick little booger for several days. </div>
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It seemed like every time there was an either/or scenario, Teddy got the raw end of the deal.</div>
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So, 2 blood tests, a urinalysis, and a spinal tap later, we found out that this guy had meningitis. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgAbGhdIwnXO7z-QCqAnWsKgMNFpXUsvaX0FsG_cJ30fVTGiIUgMry-IcY6O9oRuh8dNzVrwR5y_0G66Z1hGy_4rc47tAg2dgQvX4soGn8TXcCDYC2a-bv-9gNY54cFInG8jX2Fyq/s1600/photo+2%252817%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTgAbGhdIwnXO7z-QCqAnWsKgMNFpXUsvaX0FsG_cJ30fVTGiIUgMry-IcY6O9oRuh8dNzVrwR5y_0G66Z1hGy_4rc47tAg2dgQvX4soGn8TXcCDYC2a-bv-9gNY54cFInG8jX2Fyq/s1600/photo+2%252817%2529.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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Now, meningitis is a nasty piece of work, but there are two kinds. It takes 72 hours to determine which kind you have, so they start out hitting it hard with antibiotics via IV.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60VekAKjI6sj0WB8hPP44kkLNPCcHXXrLGNtfU_3jn6bSoN8NIRRuB2GQBAcqDiAX2QD1wYanX6EQmDyzzI_3mFu1O0GCeSReeN6WyYuJsgo-Cw1dfsATxC-fO5vaL9AU9qorlB5X/s1600/photo+1%252815%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj60VekAKjI6sj0WB8hPP44kkLNPCcHXXrLGNtfU_3jn6bSoN8NIRRuB2GQBAcqDiAX2QD1wYanX6EQmDyzzI_3mFu1O0GCeSReeN6WyYuJsgo-Cw1dfsATxC-fO5vaL9AU9qorlB5X/s1600/photo+1%252815%2529.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Sweet lil' pup knows how to smile through tears.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9wn73nxF68KYICiPFt_HGeiCjUsscGUU_oQrxWC0rz4NA2o_06ir0vvg_eq7yaQdIdYUfjCGP-jJhUwf-UA85Jd8wba215Qehxkq4JCE7nqgDGfu2n_shJZgdH0ERlbjkgrqQTkX/s1600/photo+2%252816%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9wn73nxF68KYICiPFt_HGeiCjUsscGUU_oQrxWC0rz4NA2o_06ir0vvg_eq7yaQdIdYUfjCGP-jJhUwf-UA85Jd8wba215Qehxkq4JCE7nqgDGfu2n_shJZgdH0ERlbjkgrqQTkX/s1600/photo+2%252816%2529.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Though these pictures don't show it, things were pretty rough </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it is not an experience I wish to relive ever again, in print or conversation.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIXLfFZOsKrsuEhcAyVp3NVdDqMArWmvzQs8YodVZYB9HYpNfEEV9L4QvkmC4YLhfztjTOQo1lnFsMUn0t2EvlHEa_PZfAfI6m6vSvYByJ_BM80jQC4L6qxr_uvdQa3JTZBMej3B5/s1600/photo+3%252812%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitIXLfFZOsKrsuEhcAyVp3NVdDqMArWmvzQs8YodVZYB9HYpNfEEV9L4QvkmC4YLhfztjTOQo1lnFsMUn0t2EvlHEa_PZfAfI6m6vSvYByJ_BM80jQC4L6qxr_uvdQa3JTZBMej3B5/s1600/photo+3%252812%2529.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But, thanks to a quick catch and a truckload of prayers (Thank you!), Teddy came home on Monday.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK50HuhPEcHnBbpXvtIpmAoJCp-SgcVYcVNQd5xQ7mxg-RrIHmvSib5hL8JOCyGfdrpbD4VKrfLo__5hfdLwk7zOk0mkm1qugVWVqPgUQB2_Rvlr1DBHTS0p6vpFzuBhdTBKe6YFi/s1600/photo+4%25289%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKK50HuhPEcHnBbpXvtIpmAoJCp-SgcVYcVNQd5xQ7mxg-RrIHmvSib5hL8JOCyGfdrpbD4VKrfLo__5hfdLwk7zOk0mkm1qugVWVqPgUQB2_Rvlr1DBHTS0p6vpFzuBhdTBKe6YFi/s1600/photo+4%25289%2529.JPG" height="400" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paging Dr. Brown. Dr. Brown, you're needed for a funny bone replacement.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Anyway, I meant to get this out on Wednesday, but then we all got hit with a stomach bug.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, my Thursday night was spent with a wine glass in one hand and a bottle of bleach in the other.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Good times!</div>
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</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Without further ado (and a week late), I give you:</div>
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<br /></div>
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The 2 month stats:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1X9XGgTZMTJYrz0YtqfrJ7gFQpXhfoaica9xEvpY4J-OmewrYlpMSnMJmP_uSarXylAAzq7xU8EM8o3SdpSMgtOyzxe9JQ3ajVZFSNhXYdzp5nuGTwxrGeMba-MIRO84cnpB8maHI/s1600/photo+1%252818%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1X9XGgTZMTJYrz0YtqfrJ7gFQpXhfoaica9xEvpY4J-OmewrYlpMSnMJmP_uSarXylAAzq7xU8EM8o3SdpSMgtOyzxe9JQ3ajVZFSNhXYdzp5nuGTwxrGeMba-MIRO84cnpB8maHI/s1600/photo+1%252818%2529.JPG" height="457" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Hair: It's fluffy and a lot lighter than it started out.<br />
<br />
Eyes: Big and blue right now.<br />
<br />
Chins: Only two. He lost his third chin during the hospital stay and 2 bouts of stomach bug, but the prognosis on regaining it looks good. <br />
<br />
Height/Length: 21.5 inches and built like a basset hound, all torso like me.<br />
<br />
Weight: 11 lbs. 3 oz.<br />
<br />
Duds: He's in 0-3 months sizes, and the warm weather has him showing of those gorgeous gams all the time.<br />
<br />
Turn-ons: Ceiling fans; tummy time; flirting; singing "Wheels on the Bus" and "If You're Happy and You Know It"; kicking those fat legs; long walks; milk<br />
<br />
Turn-offs: Poor service; spinal taps; anybody comin' at him with a catheter.<br />
<br />
Language: He's still vocal, but I feel like he's squeaking a lot less now than even a week ago.<br />
My man's a ham, and lets his thoughts be known. <br />
<br />
I took these pictures on Cinco de Mayo (the day we got home from the hospital), so here's the tough little dude doing a Mexican hat dance.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMr9TJFTyeL8PzjWHG482hRy34c6K9zsmWEmrP-lsu4T2L8QFIHfuMPJog7ZnMC8i5u-8uro78Gyuxjm7LQKtQGo2bhgll8BfRds_0QrENKMNbPwsNPAxRNWwqe_7aIGcPiaAw08U/s1600/photo+2%252819%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeMr9TJFTyeL8PzjWHG482hRy34c6K9zsmWEmrP-lsu4T2L8QFIHfuMPJog7ZnMC8i5u-8uro78Gyuxjm7LQKtQGo2bhgll8BfRds_0QrENKMNbPwsNPAxRNWwqe_7aIGcPiaAw08U/s1600/photo+2%252819%2529.JPG" height="569" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Have a great Saturday!</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6132169620686060893.post-65567777419248291302014-04-05T07:39:00.001-07:002014-04-05T07:39:15.629-07:00Bunsie Onesies and Things That Babies and Cats Have in CommonI've gone a leetle bit overboard with the bunny theme this spring. I can't help it, though, since I have 3 sweeties to deck out for Easter this year. Anyway, I've been meaning to make shirts like these for a really long time, and I've finally done it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_-wKZcc9w229um8sTC4bmVKoaEYKi98ilNGfKAhSBrXedhegv2VxbAfZIdvn0-_pQ6fyh_g27OlXNz3U7iMznqOgYooqmtAnukltqUS1YKzQJ61xBEzj8QpOJdN9j0ThF7VOl4Br/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9_-wKZcc9w229um8sTC4bmVKoaEYKi98ilNGfKAhSBrXedhegv2VxbAfZIdvn0-_pQ6fyh_g27OlXNz3U7iMznqOgYooqmtAnukltqUS1YKzQJ61xBEzj8QpOJdN9j0ThF7VOl4Br/s1600/001.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Will came up with the name for them, and I think Bunsie Onesie is the best ever.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy93yOws8xV7ZILC42eYIqo_ECjhEdz5dM9vsLS1hzKgE9YumJgO2d3xZY8D2_vHH6XvrZEZqxadkkyGEcSz3pEY6OdcvM5zh3t8SACJMlNkTzB6X2jFNW1gdTeOYL6TH1N849Hk0N/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy93yOws8xV7ZILC42eYIqo_ECjhEdz5dM9vsLS1hzKgE9YumJgO2d3xZY8D2_vHH6XvrZEZqxadkkyGEcSz3pEY6OdcvM5zh3t8SACJMlNkTzB6X2jFNW1gdTeOYL6TH1N849Hk0N/s1600/002.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
Who can resist a baby in a onesie?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglpGNelIOl5uv9Drc9MsmOBpkvDA59iXmWxeuHARrHJamqmRt5l1GnIvLiFNwJbhpvwxTfdewvVPcFfML72M0uCvl4qtGQC5C8glqEc9AKhuUot84x29UC5XkRLKMVv32jdEQXqRP/s1600/102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglpGNelIOl5uv9Drc9MsmOBpkvDA59iXmWxeuHARrHJamqmRt5l1GnIvLiFNwJbhpvwxTfdewvVPcFfML72M0uCvl4qtGQC5C8glqEc9AKhuUot84x29UC5XkRLKMVv32jdEQXqRP/s1600/102.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Soon-to-be-chunky legs sticking out. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Diaper bum. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-PrKoO_rilXj7etpICoKI2XrnHKRuRvjlNCfeW61bUrBwAHC4re7UHPUDPDAKMNv7V388HHzTJ_ZWr_sT2w5APjbwxHtAXpr1TMeGwKj1mx5B-K0bVCuJ0p2SkINxOFRU8NOivOiV/s1600/099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-PrKoO_rilXj7etpICoKI2XrnHKRuRvjlNCfeW61bUrBwAHC4re7UHPUDPDAKMNv7V388HHzTJ_ZWr_sT2w5APjbwxHtAXpr1TMeGwKj1mx5B-K0bVCuJ0p2SkINxOFRU8NOivOiV/s1600/099.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
I made a blue one for Teddy, and a yellow one just for fun. Or maybe for a friend ;)<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLswNU_PlPCAJ3-zef1c3vW1EsUoPBHbx6RZIdXmlsSM98KHgoyA55tkIPqwvGDKwjbzJC8SSCFQjIWQiQUy3bzqOJhL9jciDP_NhOqtNnia_wnUFtcrjyOFL_jGJ5Xd_Un9bZ8TB/s1600/103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLswNU_PlPCAJ3-zef1c3vW1EsUoPBHbx6RZIdXmlsSM98KHgoyA55tkIPqwvGDKwjbzJC8SSCFQjIWQiQUy3bzqOJhL9jciDP_NhOqtNnia_wnUFtcrjyOFL_jGJ5Xd_Un9bZ8TB/s1600/103.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hold me, I'm scared.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVGYkKSF4jpQcOtvjNNDIoOnAJOAleGqnLXDoRqpUYXrklShzfdbDd9qLa0To6KhGsYDDvpvdJ0Mjnnmo9UWBCkLCpeo0Gh60y_nO1frqa2AK2Gsn4QNVEJ-BackKfcxewPHOIjcY/s1600/104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJVGYkKSF4jpQcOtvjNNDIoOnAJOAleGqnLXDoRqpUYXrklShzfdbDd9qLa0To6KhGsYDDvpvdJ0Mjnnmo9UWBCkLCpeo0Gh60y_nO1frqa2AK2Gsn4QNVEJ-BackKfcxewPHOIjcY/s1600/104.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously. Someone call security.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
All you need to make these are a few things you can find around the house:<br />
<ul>
<li>Brand-new pencil with a flat eraser</li>
<li>Thin paint brush</li>
<li>Black fabric paint</li>
<li>Onesie or t-shirt</li>
<li>Baby (optional, but highly recommended)</li>
</ul>
I'm not going to go into a full-on how-to, because I think you can figure it out just by looking. But, you coat the pencil eraser with black paint and use it as a stamp for the eyes. <br />
<br />
Would a tail on the back be too much? <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6YaSwR-HQhvNFslmQkBeprB4LlJ3_2WdE1CTY2nQ68z2srB6_UfsXOUsVveeFDqS20obfCBiszzfzrw9GR-6K2OD9H4jamtQXNDAHOv2Bt60GpDt7hjhQdIez6k_POX_3TbB4VIG/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY6YaSwR-HQhvNFslmQkBeprB4LlJ3_2WdE1CTY2nQ68z2srB6_UfsXOUsVveeFDqS20obfCBiszzfzrw9GR-6K2OD9H4jamtQXNDAHOv2Bt60GpDt7hjhQdIez6k_POX_3TbB4VIG/s1600/003.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Teddy is working on a tutorial for how to catch a beam of light. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8axn2r2fT_RpSKxgh7b2AOEBNV3dIMa6TgIFgkAkFtedR635L0QiuJcXfxA-1ikiyaiuc0Wv9sEfJTceDJo4InefqRDw_Frp_P9wqrPPQfkRUhPVR1p7Rafb29_N4zRYodcGTaz9/s1600/095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX8axn2r2fT_RpSKxgh7b2AOEBNV3dIMa6TgIFgkAkFtedR635L0QiuJcXfxA-1ikiyaiuc0Wv9sEfJTceDJo4InefqRDw_Frp_P9wqrPPQfkRUhPVR1p7Rafb29_N4zRYodcGTaz9/s1600/095.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost. Got. It.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsjL0FJRHbA3gDoKkC9DIgIx1a5Vq51Yhe8yFw1UuB04QIMKTzhxaaWqQswJp-P0F36D4XhFAQkH4INCuy2zi75VMTCxusdlbH9BLaHbg1OalisVZQwyNvxdVVGqx60rSOWWVFM82/s1600/096.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsjL0FJRHbA3gDoKkC9DIgIx1a5Vq51Yhe8yFw1UuB04QIMKTzhxaaWqQswJp-P0F36D4XhFAQkH4INCuy2zi75VMTCxusdlbH9BLaHbg1OalisVZQwyNvxdVVGqx60rSOWWVFM82/s1600/096.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Come here, you little beam of somethin'.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3R3S-GDYGgLZKy9JC_xnYcuvWwyOQlz4YKDZKIBr-yw6jXsvk8GzHBZanebpw35kEGvuNnTyAXVh3kJ2gp3GDSNi2bTcIdd0CT3K1Q8P-RhqSs_ZAZ5sl7xqtka6Nwr24Nd1AN2Q/s1600/097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3R3S-GDYGgLZKy9JC_xnYcuvWwyOQlz4YKDZKIBr-yw6jXsvk8GzHBZanebpw35kEGvuNnTyAXVh3kJ2gp3GDSNi2bTcIdd0CT3K1Q8P-RhqSs_ZAZ5sl7xqtka6Nwr24Nd1AN2Q/s1600/097.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaaargh! Foiled again! </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Why are these things so hard to catch?!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2YOy040Kqs9nIoT5QWHq_mTkpskD-Ctb4qYz45Wapi6QoM_a1HdqF_Em7qluNh_aTQF-nRZiYw4Cv0zvzAXHsDIwvUPXAktiJpmQNAeIWyCScEDVuDcAOB_uo1BiY_VgqC22N83_/s1600/098.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie2YOy040Kqs9nIoT5QWHq_mTkpskD-Ctb4qYz45Wapi6QoM_a1HdqF_Em7qluNh_aTQF-nRZiYw4Cv0zvzAXHsDIwvUPXAktiJpmQNAeIWyCScEDVuDcAOB_uo1BiY_VgqC22N83_/s1600/098.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ahhh, found the thumb. I will get you next time, elusive shadow-maker.</td></tr>
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<br />Of course, I made some t-shirts based on<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/193443746466444307/"> this</a> for the older kids, but, naturally, they refuse to put them on. </div>
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I bet they'll change their tune when I break out the Peeps...</div>
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<br />Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00039744937586904624noreply@blogger.com0