The Farm

I know. I know! I am a liar and a cheat (name that movie), and a total blog slacker. But I do have a good excuse for the first 10 days of lying. I wasn't planning on going, but a day after I wrote the "Montana Teaser" promising more, I hopped in the motor home with my family for a little 9 day jaunt up the California and Oregon coast. So there's that. But since I've been home from that trip I have struggled to find the motivation to go through the hundreds of Montana pictures, upload and then write about them. Maybe it's knowing that after all these I still have hundreds of newer pictures to sort through and blog about the more recent trip. At any rate, here I am, and here are the (very, VERY narrowed down) highlights of a trip to The Farm.

My parents have a motor home (you know that by now). It is seemingly plenty large (at 36 feet), but please try to imagine thirteen bodies crammed in that amount of space for two solid days. We were a little concerned that we may all go crazy, but really, it didn't seem that bad. We all kinda found our own little space (Grandma and Grandpa in the front seats, Baby G in the other upright seat so he could be strapped in, my mom, Kim, Madeline, Rach, and Ems in the front portion, and the big kids, Ben, Hannah, Josh, and Jake in the back room), and it worked out nicely. Looking at these pictures does make me a little claustrophobic, though.

Mom, Kim, Mady, and I taking a nap.

At least 6 (there may be more hidden in there somewhere) of the kids playing on the back bed.

Pulling into The Farm feels a little bit like going back to your childhood home, equal parts nostalgia and warmth. As I walked through Aunt Sandi and Uncle Tom's house for the first time this trip I just kept thinking about how there is something so comfortable and happy about places that never change and people that manage to seem kinder and sweeter than they were  before, though that can't really be possible. They have all always been so good to us. There are a few things about The Farm that really make it "The Farm" for us. I'll highlight some of those things.

Dogs

There are always 3-5 dogs running around. Sometimes they are the same as the last year we were there, but usually there is at least one new one. 

The Farm Dogs-- Jake, Tuffy, Harley, and Sophie

Uncle Rick with the dogs.

Jake the boy laying down with Harley. Jake the dog watching.

Checking the fence

The last couple of years Uncle Rick has taken us on quite the journey to check the condition of the fences on the parts of their land that they cannot get cars or 4-wheelers to. That means the terrain is incredibly rough and steep. We haul equipment with us to fix broken fence posts along the way, and it's always an adventure. Last time Uncle Rick bludgeoned a rattlesnake with a hammer while we all watched in a little bit of horror, and this time Kim brilliantly gave Emma some Benadryl right before we left so that she would be extra sleepy and not want to walk AT ALL. It was pretty exciting.

Kim proudly showing off her farm jeans and shirt.

Most of the crew setting off on the trail.

See the steepness? My 70-something year old grandpa did this with us (he's probably in better shape than some of us). On this particular slope he said, "This is almost as bad as the 17th hole at ValleyView." He's a golfer.

Apparently we have a thing for tie-dye in my family. When I realized how many of us had tie-dyed shirts on that day I decided it needed to be documented.

Josh, Mady, Jake, me, Ben

The real farmer doing the hard work.

The whole group of us at the end. We were tired and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes.

Birthdays

We always go to The Farm in the summer. Three of my mom's children celebrate birthdays between July 18th and August 16th. That means that we have all had a birthday at The Farm at some point. I know I have celebrated at least two birthdays there, and I always love being there for my birthday. We always go into town and order an ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. So this year when I realized we would be celebrating my son's 2nd birthday on The Farm I was happy that he was going to get that experience (and a little sad that his daddy wouldn't be with us). 

2 year old Baby G dancing over his Dairy Queen Ice Cream Cake special.

All the people that were there to celebrate with him. He felt so special and kept asking everyone to sing to him again.

Pictures

When I was young I remember my mom wanting to get pictures of us in the wheat fields. I wanted to get a few pictures of my baby that could only be taken on The Farm. I took a bunch but will only post two. You are welcome.

Playing in front of some hay bales.

On one of the hundreds of red dirt paths surrounded by green fields that don't stop. 

Riding Horses

Many years back we would spend hours and hours a day on the horses for the Trail Ride. We haven't been there for the Trail Ride for quite sometime, but Uncle Rick still saddles the horses up for us to go for rides.

This picture is so classicly "Farm" to me. The old trucks in the foreground, the skies that go on for miles, and some of us on horses on the horizon.

Baby G was pretty happy to be on the horse.

Chasing (or checking) the cows

One of the very best things about The Farm is going to check cows. I love that Uncle Tom will come running into the house saying that a cow got out somewhere and we all hop onto 4 wheelers or load up in the back of the pick-up and race over to find it (or not find it, whatever the case may be). Watching the dogs move the cows to the right pasture is really a sight to behold. We love checking (and chasing) the cows.

A classic cow checking picture.

Uncle Rick being brave and getting the cows to turn the other way.

Uncle Rick wasn't nearly as effective in getting the cows to move as the dogs were. It is amazing to watch those dogs herd the cattle.

Sophie looking very fox-like chasing the cows.

I love this one of Jake biting this bull's hooves to get him moving.

If you look closely you can see three of the dogs chasing the cows up the hill.

Dreamy, no?

Baby G had fun riding in the Gator while we were checking cows one of the times.

The Food

Aunt Sandi makes the most delicious food. One of the very best things about The Farm is how well we eat there. Steak Rice and Carmel Rolls are two of the things we request every year and Aunt Sandi never disappoints. It was so much fun this year to help cook and to learn how to make some of the delicious things that I usually only get on The Farm.

Aunt Tami, Kim, Mom and Grandma cooking up some goods. Aunt Sandi isn't in this picture which is really sad because she is the brain behind all the deliciousness.

Aunt Sandi pouring the ooey goodness on the dough for Carmel Rolls.

Playing Cards

All of my Farm memories include nights of staying up late playing cards around the kitchen table. Oh how I love that tradition.

The gang playing Phase 10. This particular game lasted at least 5 nights.

Cain's Grove

This was actually the first year we have gone to Cain's Grove. It is near The Farm and is filled with all kinds of rock formations and caves and cool looking stone. We had fun exploring and making the adults (I know that I am technically an adult, but I am considering  myself among the children here) nervous by jumping off of big rocks.

Hannah and I catching some air up on a tall rock.

Josh and Jake are competing in the 2012 Olympics in synchronized rock jumping.

Many yoga poses were struck on high rock formations.

All of us almost falling off. Scary, huh?

Only at The Farm...

...can the little girls wake up, run outside and immediately busy themselves making mud pies for hours

...can we catch large garter snakes and scare the pants off Aunt Sandi.

...can we make ourselves feel like dorks when we realize that while attempting to close the fence behind us we locked Kim on the other side. We like to pretend we're real farmers, but clearly we're not. I love how hard Kim is laughing upon realizing what they had just done and I love Uncle Tom in the background chuckling to himself about these city folk on his Farm.

...can you get this classic picture of your son with wheat in his mouth, and hands in his pockets. Little farm boy. Cracks me right up.

...can a junky old truck look so good. My grandpa is a handsome farmer.

...can you look out the window and see the boys and men on the roof of the old chicken coop putting tin on it.

...can you experience the elation that comes with rain (no irrigation here-- the crops depend on precipitation and it is a happy day when some comes), followed by the anxiety of hail that could potentially destroy the crops.

Farm Scences

The following pictures show some of the beauty and serenity that surrounds us on The Farm. It is truly one of the most picturesque places on the earth.

The old Sunday School building where my Great Grandma is buried.

Farm truck and farm dog. One of my favorite pictures of the week.

Farmer out by a pick up. Love this of Uncle Tom.

Horses, hay bales, sky, land. So beautiful.

Windmill blowing strong in front of farm house.

The memories I have of The Farm are precious to me, and I am so grateful to have a place like that to escape to once in awhile. I am now so grateful that I can continue to share this magnificent place with my family. It was a picture perfect week on The Farm, and we are already planning our next visit. 

The only hard part about it is the looong drive back. The drive there is more manageable because you have The Farm to look forward to, but going home is always a long drive. But this year Baby G and I got so, SO lucky. At the last moment we were able to steal a buddy pass from my very generous Grandma and hop on a plane. We were home in an hour and a half. I think it may have been one of the happiest moments of my life when I got on that plane. Thanks again, Grandma. 

montana teaser

We just returned from a glorious week on The Farm. The Farm (which belongs to my mom's aunt and uncle) is a place with such sweet memories for me as we have been making the 16 hour long drive to north-eastern Montana select summers since I was a young girl. I will report with many more details (and pictures, of course) early next week, but for now here is a little glimpse to whet your appetites for all things peaceful, lovely, and picturesque:

Emma and Rach spinning in one of the hundreds of wide open, going-on-for-miles fields at The Farm.

my brain unloaded

Today he is two. Two whole years old. I have been reliving those past years in my mind for a couple of weeks now. My body seems to remember that two years ago at this time I was preparing for a grand change, and my mind can't seem to stop churning over the details of him. Of his life. Of who he is. Of what he has done and learned. Of the miracle that he is a perfect combination of his daddy and me. There have been so many times during these reflections where I feel my heart swell, my eyes brim, and a lump of love grow in my throat. Of course there are not words for this love-- you all know it too, if you are lucky. Or you will. But I wanted to try to catch a measure of what this boy means to me in writing. One day when basketball practice, ACT prep, school dances, and first dates fill up our lives I want this little boy to know that there was a time that we were together all day every day and that it was my joy. That taking care of him was never a chore, that we called each other "best friend" and that we meant it. That waking up to his sounds never got old and that his daddy and I lived for him and each other. So today, on his second birthday, I am going to take a little trip in my memories and write down some of the precious things I remember about his first two years.

I couldn't wait to get pregnant and I tried on and bought maternity clothes long before I knew he was coming. When I did get pregnant I was lucky enough to be able to see him in many ultrasounds (my dad is an OB/GYN (not mine though) and you better believe that we spent many a Sunday down at his office taking peeks at the babe). I remember seeing him hiccup and hearing his heartbeat and realizing that the miracle I had been waiting for and preparing for my whole life was finally happening. I remember that each time I would feel him kick I would take a second to rub my belly and tell him I loved him because I knew he was awake and would maybe hear me. I remember going to sleep one night when I was about 25 weeks along. I hadn't felt him move a whole ton that day and I fell asleep with a little worry in my mind. I woke up startled at about 4 AM and panicked that I still hadn't felt him. I said a prayer that everything would be okay and that I would be reassured that my baby was fine. After about 20 minutes of lying still I felt three little pokes come from him. I knew he was okay and I felt grateful that he was already obedient, even in the womb :).


The night before his birth and the day of his birth were so special to me. I have been working on writing the story of my labor and delivery, but I'll save those for another post. Those moments were nothing short of sacred, though, and oh, how I treasured those first few days with him so fresh from heaven. I remember crying the last night we were in the hospital because the next morning he was scheduled to have his circumcision. I couldn't bear the thought of doing that to him and was irrationally telling his daddy that I wouldn't let them take my baby away and do that. Kind of funny to me now, but at the time I was dead serious and absolutely heartbroken by the idea of my new baby being in pain.


I remember him crying for the first two nights we brought him home and desperately wanting to know how to help him. I remember the relief that came when my milk came in and he was suddenly so content, and started sleeping for hours at a time at night.


I remember holding him on my shoulder when he was about 3 or 4 months old and thinking that surely that must be the best stage-- he was still tiny enough to just lay and cuddle with me, but was starting to get interactive, smiley, and so much fun, too.


I remember him starting to get scared of a few select strangers when he was 4 months old. There were only about 3 people that he did that with, but he took one look at them and started screaming hysterically. One of those people was the mother of a girl that my husband liked in high school. I was secretly smiling at my baby's reaction to her.


He hated laying on his tummy for the longest time. When he learned to roll off his tummy he was a happy boy.


He's always been chatty. He babbled constantly when he was little, and if I didn't know better I would have sworn he said "hi" at 6 1/2 months. His first words came at 9 1/2 months when he said, "uh oh."


I remember having dance parties with loud music in his room in the morning when I got him dressed. I remember when he was almost 7 months old and I could see him starting to feel the beat. He was slamming his chubby legs down on the floor to the music and had a huge grin and I remember being overwhelmed by how BIG his spirit was to me in that moment.


I remember his first time fishing, and all the fishing trips since then. I can't believe how content he is to freeze his little feet off in rivers with his daddy. Those two boys must've been made for each other because I get tired and ready to go long before either of them do.


He has been a lounger his whole life. When he first got control of his limbs he would push the sun shade of his car seat down by his feet so he could lift his legs up and rest them on it. He still likes to randomly just come up and lay his head down on my shoulder or lounge back on pillows. I love that about him-- such a little cuddle boy. He has never been a go-go-go baby. He sits back and thinks. He stops playing to lay on his blankie. In large groups of little kids he does a lot of observing. He is very personable and social-- he says "hi" to strangers constantly-- but I think he is like his dad and gets a little overwhelmed by lots of people. He would rather be with the people he is close to and loves.


I remember the many (many, many) hours I have spent nursing him. The joy that that simple act has brought to us is truly immeasurable and I truly feel so blessed that nursing has been such a pleasure. I remember how we used to link hands and I'd kiss all his little fingers while he nursed. I remember when he first started to communicate verbally and he would have to stop nursing every couple of minutes to blurt out a new word he could say. So so many happy nursing memories.


I remember how he used to scoot in circles and get so frustrated that he couldn't get to all the places he could see.


I remember all the books that were read to him early in the morning in our bed by his daddy. Waking up to them reading together was always such a sweet blessing.


His love of all things boy is not a singular memory, but rather an overarching theme of his first two years. Tools, dirt, balls. I honestly am still surprised by how much he loves those things.


I can't believe what a treasure it was (and continues to be) to watch his language and communication expand. His memory is truly incredible (totally gets that from his dad) and he will talk about people (by name) and places that we haven't brought up in weeks. I can't believe that a week after we went out to dinner he randomly brought up our waiter's name (Bob) and remembered that he had brought him ice cream.


I hope I will always remember his tender heart and I hope he will always have it. Yesterday we went on a little walk in the sprinkling rain barefoot. He collected little treasures (rocks in one hand, flowers in another) and stepped in the puddles that were starting to form. He slipped in a puddle and stepped on an ant while trying to regain his balance. As soon as he realized he had done that he got a sad look on his face and said, "Oh, sorry buggy ant. Sorry buggy ant." He has always been soft and sweet and I hope he always will be.


So many precious memories that make up the two years we've shared with our boy. I've just shared a few, but it seems futile to write more because I really can't seem to find a way to write about just how much this little person has added to our lives since his arrival. He is a special little soul. And he's only two. Lucky us. Happy birthday, little boy.

disclaimer

I just realized that the title of my last post might seem as though I am saying that the pictures I took of Baby G are so lovely that they are "eye candy." Lest you think I am that conceited, let me correct myself. What I was going for was that pictures on blogs are what most people want anyway, so as a reward for reading my ramblings, I would give you some pictures. Make sense? Just didn't want anyone thinking that I was that in love with myself :).

a dilemma and some eye candy as a reward

So my child is a little bit making me crazy. His sleeping schedule has been kind of off ever since he was sick. For the two-and-a-half weeks that he was actually sick, he slept fine. But once he went on the antibiotics things started to go downhill. I guess the medicine leaves a really yucky metallic taste in your mouth. I didn't know this at first, but once I found out I realized that that must be why Baby G seemed so ravenous-- he constantly wanted food in his mouth to try and get rid of the lingering taste of metal. At night when we put him in bed he would cry and beg for pink cookies and popsicles. When that didn't work his wish was for a new glass of water. And then another one. And another one. We catered to these needs because we knew the reason for them. However, since he has been off the medicine (over 2 weeks), the bedtime routine has been the same. It is one thing after another to delay him being left in his room alone. It is making me crazy because he had seriously been the easiest kid to put to sleep before-- he would ask for his bed, even tell us to leave the room and go shower (don't know why he said that), and then quickly and quietly fall asleep. Where did that easy sleeper go, and will he ever come back? Tonight we started bedtime at 8:15, but after the yells of "another water in the PINK cup, Mommy!" and "My feet are hurting, Daddy!" and "I want to hug you, Mommy! Give you doggy kisses, Mommy!" it was at least 9:30 before he was actually asleep. We have been going into his room to remind him it is bedtime every so often (and make sure when he claims his feet are hurting that they aren't stuck between the bars or something), but now I am thinking that is counterproductive. Just please don't tell me I am back to the beginning of letting him cry it out. We are thinking that if we can just get him back on a schedule of getting enough sleep at naps and at night (the last two weeks have been kind of all over the place--summer is tricky), maybe he will fall back into the routine. Any of you have any experience here? The frustrating thing is that we are going out of town for a week on Saturday so it seems like all our scheduling efforts will be in vain anyway. But I really am not loving this yelling from his bedroom for an hour. Any suggestions would be very welcome. :)

I'll leave you with a few photos of this naughty little sleeper. We go running on the Jordan River Parkway by our house every morning and it is lovely. I was admiring the light there one day and decided to come back that night with my camera and see if I could get any good shots. Here are some of the better ones (and NO, I certainly am not aiming to be an actual talented photographer here-- just a mom who likes to take pictures of her child).

he won't stop eating

or drinking. Saying that he feels 100% better is putting it mildly. Within 12 hours of being on the antibiotic for Giardia Baby G was a new little kid. He hasn't thrown up or had diarrhea again. Bless modern medicine. Giardia is a sickness that kills people (especially children) in developing countries. I feel so blessed (and maybe even a little guilty) that the access to doctors, hospitals, and medicine is so readily available. Baby G was truly starting to worry us. He had lost too much weight and was looking awful. He was lethargic and sad. He is the complete opposite of that now. He has gained almost 5 pounds. On a little body that is a LOT of weight. Like I said, he really hasn't stopped eating. He didn't even eat like this before the Giardia, and I am wondering if his appetite is going to slow down at all once he makes up for all the calories he lost when he was sick. He ate three (three!) scrambled eggs for breakfast and then wanted graham crackers. Isn't it funny how we, as mothers, feel like we are doing a good job when our children have full tummies? It is so stressful to have to work to get your child to eat-- I am grateful to have gotten to this side. Hopefully this will be the last Giardia post from me. I am ready to close that chapter and move on to all the other fun things we've been doing since we've been healthy. More to come soon.

we are happy to announce...

...that our son has Giardia!
(You thought I was going to announce I was pregnant, didn't you?)

So, I realize that finding out that your child has a parasite isn't typically good news, but we were SO happy to finally know why he has been so sick and be able to do something about it. He already seems to be responding to the medicine (no throwing up or diarrhea yet today *knock on wood*), and we are hopeful that he will be back to himself in a few more days. We cannot figure out how on earth he contracted it, and I am a little nervous about that because if I don't know how he got it in the first place I don't know what to do differently to prevent him from getting it again. He hasn't done any of the high risk activities (traveling, being exposed to pubic water in pools, hot tubs, or even rivers/streams) in the past couple of months. Okay, that's a lie, he did go fishing with his daddy last week but he was already sick then. Anyway, we are grateful to know how we can start to get him healthy again. You better believe I will be loading him up with all the healthy, high calorie/fat foods I can get my hands on.(he was sick in this picture (can't you tell? He looks miserable to me now), but I didn't know it at the time)

Let me leave you with this sweet little story. About a week ago I brought Baby G into my bed with me early in the morning for some cuddles. I had him laying on top of me and we were singing songs. Pretty soon he popped his little face up and looked right at me and said, "Love you Mama. Mama pretty." Darn near melted my heart right out of my body. Funny how happy hearing your almost two-year-old tell you he loves you and thinks you're pretty can make you. I'll treasure that memory forever.

still raining (outside and in)

Still throwing up. Once Wednesday. Twice yesterday. Three times today. I'm no genius, but it seems to me that this is getting worse, not better. I am mad at myself for letting him be sick for so long without doing anything about it, but I really did think he was getting better. His symptoms keep coming and going (for days at a time) and it throws me off. Went to the doctor (finally) yesterday. It's been two and a half weeks of a sick boy and I am growing weary.  Weary of cleaning up body fluids, yes, but mostly weary of seeing my baby sick and not knowing what is wrong. The wondering is stressful and exhausting. As we speak tests are being run to see what is up. I am keeping my fingers crossed that we will have some answers tomorrow. Saying lots of prayers that we can start to get this baby healthy and back to himself. I think he is okay, but I just want to get him eating and keeping food down to know that he will gain some weight back. He is looking so skinny, with a big bloated tummy. The good news is he's still happy.

And so sweet.

And extra cuddly.

And we adore him more than ever. The other good news is that he has thrown up enough over the past two weeks that I can predict it coming and can get him to the sink or toilet in time to avoid having to clean up carpet or sheets or furniture. I'm pretty happy about that :). I'm feeling hopeful that tomorrow is a new day and maybe he will be feeling better. I'll let you know.

scenes from a sickhouse

I spoke too soon. Last time I posted I was sure that Baby G was getting better. He was acting much better and wanting to eat everything in sight, so I though he was on the mend. I guess he wasn't because I was still cleaning up throw-up on Friday. This has been a pretty crazy illness. I haven't really been sure what to do because I don't ever know if he is still sick or not. I am thinking that he is getting better for real this time because he has had two days with no symptoms, but knowing my luck he will be losing his lunch tomorrow. We'll keep our fingers crossed though, because this time I think it's the real deal. Here are a few of the pictures we took over the past week or so of our sick boy.

He spent more time than I'd like to admit watching TV. We almost never have the TV on during the day normally, and I felt pretty guilty propping my child's head up with pillows so he could see Zoobomafoo, but what else can you do when you have a little kid that is so sick that he doesn't even want to lift his head up?

He spent at least 5 days straight without getting out of his pajamas or getting his hair combed.

We had a rainstorm one of the days and I lifted him up to the window so he could see the rain coming down. He immediately started asking for his raincoat and boots, and since he hadn't really moved out of my bedroom at all that day I figured a little fresh air might be good for him. He had fun, but only lasted a few minutes. He didn't have the energy to stomp in puddles. Notice that he still has his pjs on.

One of the Sundays (all the days are kind of a blur) Baby G's aunt, uncle, and cousin stopped by to drop off some Pedialite freezer pops. We were out in the living room talking and Baby G came toddling out to see what was going on. He was so sweet and just stood there looking at us like, "What are you guys doing out here without me?" Then his cousin Logan (who is 4 months older) read him a story.

This is my favorite picture of them all. Notice the million sippy cups scattered all over our room. A sure sign of parents trying to keep their child from getting dehydrated.

Baby G lounged like this on everything and everyone. He is always pretty cuddly, but it was kind of funny to see him just constantly lay down wherever he was because he didn't have any energy. 

This picture was taken before I wrote the last post about Baby G wanting a burger and fries. He hadn't kept anything down (or wanted to eat) for four days and we went up to my parents house to visit. He took one look at the fresh chunky salsa and started begging for some chips. I don't know how many two-year-olds love fresh salsa (the kind that is basically just chunks of tomatoes, peppers, and onions), but Baby G went to town shoveling as much of it into his mouth as he could.

Baby G has been super into playing "basey-ball" lately. We were going to buy him a t-ball set and then we discovered that he could hit the ball when it was pitched to him (which totally shocked me). Anyway, he wanted to get outside and play, but again, had no energy to stand there and swing. So he sat. It made hitting a little more difficult, but it did the job.

Apparently this illness is going around, but I will hope that this is the end of it for us and that none of your children get it :).

eyes that don't quit

After Baby G being so sick this past week my mom said, "Thank goodness for his head! If he didn't have a big head he wouldn't weigh a whit!"

I have lots of stuff to blog about. Posts pile up in my head like laundry when your child is sick. That's what we've been dealing with this past week. Baby G got his first full-fledged illness, and it wasn't pretty. I'll spare you the details, but the worst part was that after not really eating (or keeping food down) for five days he had lost 3 pounds. He was already a pretty skinny boy, but when you are as tall as he is it isn't healthy to only weigh 24 pounds. I almost felt sick when I looked at his boney little body. But here's the good news. For the past two days he has been waking up begging for a burger and fries. He's never requested that before, so it cracked me up to hear him pleading , "Wan a burger, Mama. Wan fries. Dip it?" You better believe that I promptly took him to the nearest McDonald's as soon as it was lunch time. It did my heart good to see him eating all that fat. Last night we were out and about when he started asking for "beans and rice and chicken." I knew he meant Chipotle. Again, he's not really ever been one to request specific foods, but after 5 days of nothing, I think his little body was craving some good food and he let me know. I turned around and stopped at Chipotle and let him eat as much as he wanted. I'm hoping he gains 5 pounds, can you tell? Our eating out budget will be gone before J and I even get the chance to go on a date, but we'll eat Rice-a-Roni for the rest of the month and let Baby G eat whatever his little tummy dictates if we need to :). 

a little help, please

Okay, I know this is an awkward picture. Trust me though, it would've been even more awkward if I would've tried to hold my bulky camera out in front of me to take it. 

Anyway, I need some opinions about my hairdo. (Side note: Baby G calls all hair a "hairdo." As in, "No Mama! No do my hairdo!" when I comb his hair.) So a couple of months ago I cut 8 inches off. This is the shortest my hair has been in years. And I have really liked it. I thought I might miss my long hair, but no, I really haven't at all. And now I am wondering... should I go even shorter? I am feeling tempted to cut a couple more inches off and go up to my chin. Bad idea? I can't decide. I kinda just want to go for it. Also, I think I might be ready for a more straight across bang, less of the swoop. Another bad idea? We all know that I am not the best judge of fashion and/or style, so please, save me from myself if you think it would be a bad move. 

i have a tiny neck ball

Since I never really talk about Baby G on this blog (wink) I thought a post about his most recent doings was in order. He is truly a little delight. I adore my days with him and it is such a pleasure for me to meet his needs and spend my hours swallowed up in my role as his mama. There have even been nights where either J or I can be heard saying, "I just wanna go get him up and play with him" after he has already gone to sleep. Not that we ever would (actually, I think J would-- I won't let him though), and not that we don't adore each other and just being together without our baby (trust me, the hours where the babe is asleep and we have quiet time alone are some of the best of the day), but we really do just love being with our little boy so much, and the joy he brings into our home is thick like I've never known. Here are some of the things we are loving about our soon-to-be two-year-old. (And you better believe I will be getting all the mileage I can out of saying that I still have a one-year-old for the next couple of months. Can you still call two-year-olds "Baby?")

Baby G has been into using pronouns lately. If we say something is all gone he says, "Show me!" as if he doesn't believe us. He usually uses "I" and "me" correctly, but this past week he has been getting a little confused. One morning he was sitting in my bed just after he had woken up. He was rubbing his eyes and I heard his little voice saying, "Oh. Bug him. Bug him." He had something in his eye that was bugging him and he wanted to let me know. He was in the bath a couple of weeks ago when his daddy brought him in some strawberries to munch on. Baby G was so happy and started exclaiming, "For him! Strawberries for him!" Yes little boy, they are for you. The other day we were at a restaurant and I took him in the bathroom to wash his hands. While we were standing there a woman came in and went into the stall. As I was washing my hands, and not paying attention to where my son was, I heard his little voice saying, "Oh, her pee." I turned around to see him crouched down, peeking in the woman's stall, declaring to the world what she was doing. 

He is also really into adjectives, especially "tiny, "huge," and all the colors. He knows pink, green, black, orange, white, yellow, purple, and blue very well, and sporadically gets others correct. Most of the time he calls things "pink" if he isn't sure what color it is. That is very amusing to me and not so amusing to his father. Yesterday afternoon when he woke up from his nap I was holding him on the rocking chair facing me. He spotted a mole on my neck and immediately pointed to it and, in his tiniest little whisper (he is really into doing "tiny" voices quietly and "HUGE" voices loudly), declared it to be a "tiny ball." Then he thought about it for a second longer and said, "a tiny neck ball!" 

Here you can see the tiny neck ball he was speaking of.

I love, LOVE all the new things he is saying and learning every day. He found a number 8 on my sewing pattern a while back and casually announced, "Numba eight!" as if I have been teaching him numbers for weeks. I had NO idea he would have even known what a number was, let alone attach the correct word to the correct symbol. His counting is so funny-- again something we haven't deliberately taught yet. "1 2 3 8 9 10!" Those middle few numbers aren't very important, anyway.
He often requests songs for us to sing to him. About a week ago he started requesting a "Santa song." I didn't know what he was talking about, so we tried a few songs that talk about Santa and finally settled on "Up on the Housetop." He loves that one and can be overheard singing, "Ho ho ho! Who wouldn't go?" which cracks me up. He also requests the "Nursery ball" song which is "Jesus Wants Me for a SunBEAM!" complete with jumping on all the "beams." Others include "Jingle Bells," the "Pirate song" (yo ho yo ho....), and "Zippy do da song."
He is probably the most polite one-year-old ever. I can't take the credit for this because I really haven't ever tried to teach him manners beyond your basic pleases and thank-yous. When we are walking into a store or something and he thinks he is in someone's way he will look up at them and say, "Oh, sorry!" and move aside. At the playground he will politely move out of line so that all the other kids can run up the stairs to the slide past him while saying, "Sorry! Sorry!" for being in the way. I have to go walk him up the stairs and keep the other kids away in order for him to ever get a chance to go down the slide. I love his sweet, polite demeanor, but I also want him to be able to assert himself and not get bullied. He loves playing with other kids, but he totally just lets them steal toys out of his hands or take over whatever he was playing with. His nursery leaders have asked us multiple times if he is always as even-tempered and good as he is in nursery. I assure them that he definitely has his moments with us where he asserts his independence and gives a little attitude, but with kids he really doesn't have a mean bone in his body. Naughty, busy bones, yes. Mean bones, no.
Here is an example of him being a little naughty. Yesterday I put him in his high chair with a bowl of yogurt to eat. When I put his bib on he quickly let me know he didn't want it on by trying to immediately rip it off. I explained to him that he needed to keep it on or let me feed him because I didn't want him to spill all over his shirt. He kept the bib on and started eating. I walked out of the room for a second and when I walked back in I saw that his bib had been thrown to the floor. I went over by him and said, "Uh oh, you took your bib off." He looked at me with stern eyebrows, eyes full of serious and said, "No wear bib, MOM. Just shirt." What killed me about the attitude was the loud, bordering on defiant, "Mom" that came out of his mouth. I was like, wait, you are not allowed to call me Mom yet. I am Mama or Mommy, but not just Mom. Big kids can call their moms "Mom," but little ones should be required to only say "Mama" or  "Mommy" until they are at least six. I put his bib back on and referred to myself as "Mommy" repeatedly :).
I should have known not to leave the kitchen again after that, but he was sitting so nicely eating his yogurt that I ventured back into the bathroom to do my hair. When I got back into the kitchen a lovely surprise of yogurt dumped on the rug was waiting for me. As soon as I saw it I looked at Baby G and overly sadly and softly started saying, "Oh noooo...! Oh, you made such a mess! It makes mommy so sad when you dump your food on the ground...." I sounded sad enough that he just started sobbing. He was like, "No cry Mommy! Clean it up! Nooo Mommy!" He felt really bad and I loved his tender little heart. I got him out of his high chair and explained why I was sad and told him it was okay, but we would have to clean it up. He helped me clean it up but was still pretty heartbroken about how sad I had been. He cried off and on for about 5 or so minutes and kept saying, "Hold you, Mommy. Hug you, Mommy." Naughty little tender-hearted boy.
One more silly little thing he does-- he is obsessed with throwing things into the sink. Today when I walked into the kitchen a loaf of bread and bag of bagels was in the sink. The other day he threw his shoe in the sink while I was washing dishes and got it soaking wet. I have found his blankies in the sink multiple times. When he has a drink he will take a few sips of it and then ask, "Dump it in sink?" I don't know what it is about that sink, but he seems to think it is the perfect place to throw just about everything. 

He's our little treasure, mess-making and all. We are thinking a sibling is in order, and hoping he/she will be a little clone of him. No, I am not pregnant. Yet.

dream job preview

A couple of days ago I walked into the living room to find the little one trying on his daddy's shoes. He said, "I na (wanna) go work, Mama. I na go work [in] Daddy's shoes." Little cutie. Too bad those aren't actually his dad's "work" shoes-- that would just be too good to be true. Maybe one day his dad's dreams will all come true and he will be able to wear fishing shoes to "work" every day :).

I love that the shoes are almost as long as Baby G's legs are.

Tall, skinny boy. Definitely his dad's body.

Showing off his belly button. A favorite pastime now that it is warm enough to not be wearing the snappy undershirts under his clothes.

After I took these pictures he said, "I na see!" So I showed him the pictures. While he was looking at them he broke out into a grin and exclaimed, "Wear Don's shoes! Jojie (which is what he refers to himself as in the third person) wear Donny's shoes!" Lately he has been calling his daddy by his first name (which isn't Don, but rhymes with Don and starts with a J) from time to time. It always cracks me up.

This boy is constant entertainment, that's for sure. We'll keep him.