tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90927549355039533232024-02-20T05:19:48.396-08:00just as muchWelcome to my mclife.McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-6504723862718266822012-11-19T21:29:00.001-08:002012-11-19T21:29:04.144-08:00Stationery card<div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"><img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AZNnLFwzbuGLd&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&eid=115"><img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/8AZNnLFwzbuE/8AZNnLFwzbuEfp/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1353389332000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></a></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"><span>Jolly Holly Stripes Christmas Card</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>Shop Shutterfly's collection of <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards" style="color: #6666cc;">Christmas photo cards</a>.</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>View the entire <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">collection</a> of cards.</span></div><img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&c1=msc&c2=blogger" /></div></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-56202697556366820242012-11-19T21:28:00.003-08:002012-11-19T21:28:20.738-08:00Stationery card<div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"><img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AZNnLFwzbuGK7&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&eid=115"><img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/8AZNnLFwzbuE/8AZNnLFwzbuEfL/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1353389261000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></a></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"><span>Jolly Holly Stripes Christmas Card</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>Seasons greetings with personalized Christmas cards from <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards" style="color: #6666cc;">Shutterfly</a>.</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>View the entire <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">collection</a> of cards.</span></div><img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&c1=msc&c2=blogger" /></div></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-79642659713077302602012-11-19T21:28:00.001-08:002012-11-19T21:28:18.992-08:00Stationery card<div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"><img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AZNnLFwzbuGK7&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&eid=115"><img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/8AZNnLFwzbuE/8AZNnLFwzbuEfL/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1353389261000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></a></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"><span>Jolly Holly Stripes Christmas Card</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>Find unique and <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/christmas-cards" style="color: #6666cc;">modern Christmas cards</a> at Shutterfly.</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>View the entire <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">collection</a> of cards.</span></div><img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&c1=msc&c2=blogger" /></div></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-49361152655002035302011-09-01T11:56:00.001-07:002011-09-01T11:56:09.588-07:00Stationery card<div class="sflyProductPreviewWidget" style="width:425px; height:494px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetTop" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/top.gif);"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetCenter" style="height:482px; padding: 0 6px 0 6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bg.gif); background-repeat:repeat-y;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewLogo" style="width: 105px; height: 34px; padding: 14px 0 0 14px;"><img src="http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/logo.gif" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewContainer" style="height:350px; text-align:center; padding: 0;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AZNnLFwzbuGJV&cid=SFLYOCWIDGET&eid=115"><img src="http://images-community.shutterfly.com/prs/v1/8AZNnLFwzbuE/8AZNnLFwzbuEcl/p/67b0de21b3127d902548/JPEG/1314903300000/0/" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;"></a></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewMessageContainer" style="height:55px; background-color:#f4f4e9; text-align:center; padding: 15px 0 15px 0; line-height: 19px;"><div class="sflyProductPreviewTitle" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 15px; color: #333333; font-weight: bold;"><span>Little Star Birth Announcement</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewSEOText" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>Shutterfly has cute birth announcements and <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery/valentines-day-cards-and-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">Valentine's cards</a>.</span></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewViewCollection" style="font-family: arial, sans-seris; font-size: 13px; color: #333333;"><span>View the entire <a href="http://www.shutterfly.com/cards-stationery" style="color: #6666cc;">collection</a> of cards.</span></div><img width="1" height="1" border="0" style="padding: 0; background: #ffffff; border: none; box-shadow: none;" src="https://os.shutterfly.com/b/ss/sflyshareprod/1/H.15/111?pageName=sharekey&c1=msc&c2=blogger" /></div></div><div class="sflyProductPreviewWidgetBottom" style="height:6px; background-image:url(http://cdn.staticsfly.com/img_/share/preview/msc/widget/bottom.gif);"></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-75939619536168672112011-05-25T13:49:00.000-07:002011-07-22T05:55:41.411-07:00Bryker's Birth: A Short Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujaOgyqOK7l8OTLsRX2ib70A21JFGLqQLqQ6AX1LNfLRdI5bonCHBZaU20nev4OOGKLVcVzBXe4rjxzJjJ14krA00TlJK2VlzGCNm_QoE4n1SDn-NrFEQKFWd-cPBhMuu2e2iPcJVUC0/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujaOgyqOK7l8OTLsRX2ib70A21JFGLqQLqQ6AX1LNfLRdI5bonCHBZaU20nev4OOGKLVcVzBXe4rjxzJjJ14krA00TlJK2VlzGCNm_QoE4n1SDn-NrFEQKFWd-cPBhMuu2e2iPcJVUC0/s400/-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Despite the expectation of everyone and my brother that you'd want to join the party early, Cinco de Mayo (aka "d day") came and went and you sat tight in your incubation chamber. Mommy even tried the Ansley trick and got a mani/pedi on your due date (at the same place). But alas, you were stubborn and stayed put.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">On Friday (the 6th), I cleaned like a crazywoman in an attempt to get the house at least semi-presentable and ready for your arrival (and maybe also slightly in hopes of inducing labor...). Mia and Zade brought ice cream for the same reason. Just before bed, I told daddy that I thought I may have had a contraction. He responded with "Aw, man. I was really hoping to get some sleep tonight." Though mommy remembers some tossing and turning (as much as can be done with a giant belly) and general restlessness, I didn't fully wake until around <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=9092754935503953323&postID=7593961953616867211">5:30</a>, when you startled me with a strong kick followed closely by a familiar rush. The dam had been breached. Your water was broken. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It was a bit unbelievable, having waited for so long, to know you'd be here within 24 hours, but I remember saying to your dad that it was "time." He roused fairly easily [which you will learn is a bit of an anomaly with your father] and went to call the g-rents while I took a quick shower. I had a minor 30-second contraction while rinsing off. When I got out, I was anxious to record it with my recently-downloaded <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/full-term-labor-contraction/id382013176?mt=8"> full term contraction timer app</a>, being the giant nerd that I am. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But then I had another one. And according to my calculations, it was only about 3 minutes behind the last. I vaguely remembered something about Dr. Cousins having said to page her when the contractions were 10 minutes apart. Whoops. After a couple more hits just a few minutes from one another, mommy and daddy began to wonder if you could be coming with a quickness. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Grandpa Mac was on his way to take over Ansley duties and Mia had been notified and would meet us at the hospital. Unfortunately, Granny had to work that day and Bumpa was setting up for a big garage sale as they were in the midst of a major move. No one was in a huge hurry since, clearly, these things take time. I mean mommy's first labor was around 16 hours. Surely this one would take a while as well, right? </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ha.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we readied the car, mommy had a painful contraction. They were getting longer and.. was that correct?.. even closer together. I'd tried to page Dr. C before we left, but had a feeling I didn't do it right. Was I supposed to enter the area code? Do I press pound after or just hang up? 'How does a pager even work these days??! Why do people still have pagers? Wouldn't a text be easier?! Pagers are ridiculous and irrelevant and should be summarily rounded up and nuked.' [Thus was my thinking in mid-pain]. I told your father I was pretty sure it was a fail and somehow amongst the commotion he made a successful second attempt. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We sped down Wendover with the hazard lights full on Nascar-style. Daddy told me later that the odometer was at a pretty constant 80 and he'd run four red lights (and he totally felt like a race car driver). I didn't even notice. It had taken us just under 15 minutes to get to the hospital. In that time, mommy's contractions were so close together and so painful that I couldn't concentrate on anything else. I did my lamaze breaths like a pro - as though they would actually ease the discomfort. But I'm pretty sure they just give you something else to focus on so you don't go blind from the sheer agony of a small human attempting to exit your body. No offense. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just before we arrived, I recall feeling the urge to push. When we finally rolled up to admissions, I could barely walk. Thank you God I'd had the sense to pre-register because as soon as we sat down to check in, I clenched my teeth with the pain of yet another contraction. Daddy attempted to impress upon the admissions nurse that time was of the essence here, but I'm not sure she got it until she saw how long the megacramp lasted and we informed her that they were about a minute apart. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Though we'd begun to fill out paperwork (and by we I mean your dad as I was willing you to stop banging on the escape hatch and literally attempting to hold you in at that point), the nurse ultimately recognized the urgency of our situation and ushered us into an exam room. I almost disrobed with the door open. When they had to wait for the contractions to stop in order to examine mommy, I got a little panicked (don't tell your dad). The nurse announced I was at an 8-9 (10 being "push") and we were off to a birthing suite.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And bless your daddy's heart for being so sweet: he actually had the decency to ask at that moment "I know this may be a stupid question, but.. are we too late for the epidural?" The nurse didn't even answer. I did. That would be a resounding "no."</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just to recap here, we'd gone from nothing to water breaking to contractions three minutes apart and about 30 seconds long, then one minute apart and one minute long in around 30 minutes. It was go-time. I knew this.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmMOwV8BlrD0cp0Rt_8Fe7qMyY3NbGnH_oOWxej4Js0njLwVWZMITD42EWnBaNipZ8MBOO68Cu1asDHdSRhf8VIbv0yYEHTrt7bmfMZ8UhGFQyX62E4PhG0dgIRnJJIqObd7Gq4jJYDk/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmMOwV8BlrD0cp0Rt_8Fe7qMyY3NbGnH_oOWxej4Js0njLwVWZMITD42EWnBaNipZ8MBOO68Cu1asDHdSRhf8VIbv0yYEHTrt7bmfMZ8UhGFQyX62E4PhG0dgIRnJJIqObd7Gq4jJYDk/s400/-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Apparently, we should have taken the doc a bit more literally when she said, "Just make sure you have your bag packed and are ready to go, because I have a feeling when this baby comes, he's coming like a bat outta hell." Holy goodness she was right.. though I prefer to rephrase it and say you swooped down like an angel from heaven.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As we rounded the corner, I saw Dr. Cousins rushing in and was slightly comforted (for approximately 5 seconds until the next contraction kicked in). They'd told us it would likely be the other doc on call. But evidently, Dr. C had a patient in the room next door that had been there all night. She went to check on her while they stuck mommy with an IV (just once; that nurse was a champ) and prepped me for (holy crap) delivery. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When Cousins came back a few short minutes later, she did a quick check and asked if mommy wanted to push. Next thing I knew it was wheels up and 'let's do this.'</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And yes, since everyone asks and it's hard to recall even now, it hurt. It hurt like nothing else has hurt in my life and I was seriously terrified. Had I had more time to think about it, that fear might have been paralyzing. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But it only hurt for 10 seconds. And then it was done. Two and a half pushes (a half because the doc had me stop in the midst of one) and you were here. They laid you on my chest and you looked at me in wonder just like your sister had done. You were so tiny and perfect. I loved you instantly.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">But it all happened so fast, I had trouble processing your appearance. Mia didn't even believe your dad when he called her to say you were born until he texted your picture minutes later.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We'd arrived at Women's at 6:06; you were born at 6:14.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">(I know, my penchant for extremely lengthy storytelling perhaps made it seem otherwise ;)</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once you were here, the doc had to leave to fix up our neighbor (who'd delivered four minutes before), so mommy still had to endure some contractions until everything was out and officially done. In the meantime, daddy stayed at your side and they weighed, measured and cleaned you up. And the nurse asked me the rest of the questions necessary for admission (Fun fact: yes, we were actually admitted after your birth). </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We couldn't figure out who you looked like, with your little round head and serious tufts of light brown hair(!!!), but we were so proud. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgne3UH_Gb2x4pkcy9VhEBk-cfKsfhXlMxyi5TR5qda_w6jHKmlqdLcc96Ca0lAsX8sPzH2kci7WEjGer6hpdLvv8V1xC1rCyYSZUInzoVsUjbOhP5Dbki9VA2SX7aMugCI6y7dcA3j2VU/s1600/-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgne3UH_Gb2x4pkcy9VhEBk-cfKsfhXlMxyi5TR5qda_w6jHKmlqdLcc96Ca0lAsX8sPzH2kci7WEjGer6hpdLvv8V1xC1rCyYSZUInzoVsUjbOhP5Dbki9VA2SX7aMugCI6y7dcA3j2VU/s640/-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Bryker Jon Stevenson</span></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">6 lbs 15 oz; 20.5" of precious</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Once everything was finally said and done and we had a minute to reflect, I realized how close we'd actually come to having you on the side of the highway (hm now that I think about it, dang we totally missed our chance at that Dr. Phil appearance and 15 minutes of fame! Jk). Every new nurse or doctor that came in commented on your speedy entrance. I tried to convince your dad to change your name to flash or bullet, but to no avail. Though apparently deciding on the correct middle name was akin to taking the SAT's because your father came out of the shower to change it twice while I was on the phone about your birth certificate. Daddy kept waffling between Jon and Jonathan - finally deciding on Jon so that your credit won't get confused with his down the road (yes that is the actual reason your middle name is Jon. Sorry). </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">So apparently you weren't ready to join us until you decided it was time. But man, when you did, you were sure! So thank you for popping out quickly and saving me hours of painful, exhausting labor. ;)</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTHalqqKfqrxMUeu5qSwrMrCxHZV1reeAP7Bb1Pz0B_tmg2Mv8edDRGkBv9TjT-pAM4019waPMnPRKdMBijDfVqs2Gsxl_ExJAcIdIz1Vykyr1p1y6DLk5KDMAfdAxKWg_YBjY6lJpn0/s1600/Screen+shot+2011-07-21+at+12.18.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirTHalqqKfqrxMUeu5qSwrMrCxHZV1reeAP7Bb1Pz0B_tmg2Mv8edDRGkBv9TjT-pAM4019waPMnPRKdMBijDfVqs2Gsxl_ExJAcIdIz1Vykyr1p1y6DLk5KDMAfdAxKWg_YBjY6lJpn0/s400/Screen+shot+2011-07-21+at+12.18.16+PM.png" width="400" /></a></span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">You really are such a sweet baby. Already quite proficient at eating and pooping. And you slept for like 5 hours after your man-surgery (poor thing), allowing us to sleep, too. Perhaps you felt bad about not allowing mommy enough time for medication, but honestly my recovery has been easier this time as well. Everything seems a little easier. Maybe it's somewhat because we're a little more relaxed and confident we won't break you. And we [kind of] know what we're doing now (apologies to Ansley - sorry sweetie, with you we were flying blind). </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Speaking of Ansley, your big sister absolutely adores you. When they brought her in to see you at the nursery, she kept trying to get through the glass to touch you, and cried when she had to leave to see mommy. She wanted you. When they brought you in to see us, she could not kiss you (i.e. cover you in slobber) enough. </span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUD2jiaR4td8vTPWLRRs8QpdhqS_NFuqgcvuyRcplrrw9D55n-uIuTsrW-7ISUD1GbzI0BxJUGv-uyKedtOgtlKRLwbzugK1GViTjYKDFEkj2d7D7O7tPV0us0GRzVM1hZIrGu-PrfS48/s1600/DSC_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUD2jiaR4td8vTPWLRRs8QpdhqS_NFuqgcvuyRcplrrw9D55n-uIuTsrW-7ISUD1GbzI0BxJUGv-uyKedtOgtlKRLwbzugK1GViTjYKDFEkj2d7D7O7tPV0us0GRzVM1hZIrGu-PrfS48/s320/DSC_1321.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-Ms1D-Bwzu6kID6-CeLaOzOlYsgf07xxVRi8tFXZIr-CmYZha9KsbJhOBVkGbhS_iXjLg4z_ShLx6sk7vOlzK7NQGx0P2MSV3e5J5YSJCCSeuhKCxCVkKhsA8z5R1LfCSV6iDN_fFp8/s1600/DSC_1291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-Ms1D-Bwzu6kID6-CeLaOzOlYsgf07xxVRi8tFXZIr-CmYZha9KsbJhOBVkGbhS_iXjLg4z_ShLx6sk7vOlzK7NQGx0P2MSV3e5J5YSJCCSeuhKCxCVkKhsA8z5R1LfCSV6iDN_fFp8/s320/DSC_1291.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/f0ztzTc6aM4?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sadly, she was a bit sick while during our hospital stay, so the grandparents kept her away until we were discharged on Monday. Obviously, mommy needed to do the laundry because your grands couldn't seem to find any clothes for her and she ended up arriving to take you home in this:</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/fZgBIOkCWlQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In case you can't see that shirt very well, it's a onesie with a picture of a toddler flippin' <b>the flippin' bird!</b> The caption reads "my dad can kick your dad's a$! at fantasy football." It was actually a hand-me-down from your "reject" pile. And it was probably a size 3 months. But I have to admit, it was awfully funny.</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Ansley loves to pat your head and stroke your hair, which, clearly we can't blame her for; it is a magnificent 'do. She calls you "Buckee" or "Buckuh," and loves to greet you with a cheery "hey!" even though it will be a long time before you can respond. Her ultimate goal seems to be playing Row Row Row Your Boat and holding you, but don't worry mommy and daddy will run interference till she's old enough to do so safely. For now, she's otherwise content to help mommy toss away dirty diapers and burp you by patting your back. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://i.ytimg.com/vi/cBTeN_aqMo0/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cBTeN_aqMo0?f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cBTeN_aqMo0?f=user_uploads&c=google-webdrive-0&app=youtube_gdata" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed></object></span></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-674499110077212592011-05-04T14:15:00.000-07:002011-07-22T05:54:56.921-07:00Bryker's Turn!<div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tomorrow marks your actual due date. Wow! How did we get here so quickly? Despite the fact that mommy is told daily that I "must be about to pop!" I'm holding out for you to decide when you're ready to join the world. Sounds like everyone thought you were coming early because I keep getting calls and emails making sure nothing has happened. I'm so anxious to see your face and let it all settle in, but you're sittin' tight. :) Running after your sister doesn't give us much time to meditate on what it will be like when you get here, so it still seems half-real. We've finally gotten the nursery (mostly) ready, though, and I hope you like it. You won't really be living in there right away, but mommy wanted to be sure you had your own space just like your big sister did when she was born so you know how special you are to us, too. I understand that kind of stuff doesn't matter as much to boys, but it is important to me. ;) </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_Bjf-u_s1VNF49STd4clAy9A2SzjCblQtBKojav8WgcrxyGuHyuDL5zFhLaejUmWLnm64wzg1zEiXQltPeBHljIGXyT6l5AFNUwjxOalrsr8CBYdHA448zkoZBRvqIAXXFqgnj4iSAg/s1600/DSC_1271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8_Bjf-u_s1VNF49STd4clAy9A2SzjCblQtBKojav8WgcrxyGuHyuDL5zFhLaejUmWLnm64wzg1zEiXQltPeBHljIGXyT6l5AFNUwjxOalrsr8CBYdHA448zkoZBRvqIAXXFqgnj4iSAg/s400/DSC_1271.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">Aunt Heidi got those cool letters for you for Christmas (before you were born!)</span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI2qNo5jTKKCmMvvc1zxjnr7FCmgptVQ2qxOVDqe984sTvvjFGIE31_infXkvnac1yWeO-JGf0879vxUb7d2U8N2BgQjAgOtEDyxYUvyrSVqk0tIrPp4g9sTlUiLxY2Q3xlDTpMP_81E/s1600/DSC_1273.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGI2qNo5jTKKCmMvvc1zxjnr7FCmgptVQ2qxOVDqe984sTvvjFGIE31_infXkvnac1yWeO-JGf0879vxUb7d2U8N2BgQjAgOtEDyxYUvyrSVqk0tIrPp4g9sTlUiLxY2Q3xlDTpMP_81E/s400/DSC_1273.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtUtMyTIJB9fSOOvbDg0OrPk5Sgn5iCHEUlGqtu98lTlOEsXkgXI-pw_bThCXCE-3gTCyF8pzkNlGUmXK9l865f3W4pnJ3Z6ou5cEAiVrIatC8zEnefQS-s2erf5n8JcABUtTbGz0fL4/s1600/DSC_1276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZtUtMyTIJB9fSOOvbDg0OrPk5Sgn5iCHEUlGqtu98lTlOEsXkgXI-pw_bThCXCE-3gTCyF8pzkNlGUmXK9l865f3W4pnJ3Z6ou5cEAiVrIatC8zEnefQS-s2erf5n8JcABUtTbGz0fL4/s400/DSC_1276.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've been popping Zantac and/or Tums most days for the past 2 & 1/2 months, so yay for you: you probably have hair!! Other than the heartburn, you haven't been plagueing me much from the inside save an itchy belly once in a while and the inability to fit into my clothes. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In fact, I've noticed a strange phenomenon. My skin has been miraculously clear and my legs have stayed smoother longer, when the opposite seemed to be the case with your sister. It may or may not be due to the hormones that come with having a boy, and may or may not just be me, but it's kind of nice. Thanks, baby B!</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You also move around like crazy—something your sister never so much did on the inside (now that she's out, it's a bit of a different story... ;)</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Your favorite position is semi-bilateral (i.e. head down to one side, butt up to the other). I'm sure you'll straighten out eventually.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Unfortunately, the curse of the clumsy pregnant lady struck again last month, and mommy had two more accidents within a couple-week span. The first happened on a rainy day as I scurried back to my car after dropping off your sister. Mommy lost her footing, stumbled a few steps and—instinctively hugging you like a football in protection mode—dropped to my knees and shoulder, finally stopping the fall with my face. This resulted in two chipped front teeth, very bruised knees and a scrape on my face that is still trying to heal. I called my doctor, dentist and daddy (in that order) before I was able to breathe correctly.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiny4FAIFn4SeCCFoEy0I1ftwGo6TIFBI7ExLjcO2CsB5EJbj4JcR1r3LTVX2hjMthQCQpw65zGMcD7bob9rbOrbAyaboYCC6e-gjgletcF8Mb3t46zuyGiRX2jBtfiL7ZyRiI4MQg-xY/s1600/-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiny4FAIFn4SeCCFoEy0I1ftwGo6TIFBI7ExLjcO2CsB5EJbj4JcR1r3LTVX2hjMthQCQpw65zGMcD7bob9rbOrbAyaboYCC6e-gjgletcF8Mb3t46zuyGiRX2jBtfiL7ZyRiI4MQg-xY/s400/-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">[Whenever you do something bad, </div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">I'm going to show you this picture to</div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">remind you what you put me through. </div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">Jk]</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The next week I was heading out to the garden to join Ansley and daddy when I stepped wrong on one of the cement circles and again twisted my trick ankle pretty badly. To make matters worse, it happened in the midst of an outgrowth of poison ivy that was heavily infused with ivy poison (daddy attempting to kill it off), so after carrying mommy inside and stripping me down to the bare essentials, daddy grabbed a CLOROX WIPE and scrubbed me off thoroughly - starting with the severe scrape on my shin. Since I wasn't thinking clearly and was crying profusely anyway, I allowed this to happen (but holy mother of #$%! did it hurt) and followed daddy's further instruction to get in the tub and soap up in continuation of the ivy detox. It was comical the next day, and I was able to hobble around somewhat. Although limping around with a huge belly and wrapped ankle was not so fun. I may have been more angry (at myself. for doing that again) than hurt after the initial trauma.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But hopefully you'll get here soon (if nothing else, so that mommy doesn't have any more accidents.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I kid, I kid). </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm looking forward to meeting you, B. Daddy is just as excited, though he claims that it's the week of "vacation" he can't wait for. When you think about it, I suppose it is kind of like a vacation, though. A babycation. We get to take time off just to hold and snuggle and get to know you after you arrive. I already know I'll love you; it's just hard to imagine how much. You were only a dream 9 short months ago, and now you're almost here. Actually holding you in my arms will be the culmination of a thousand thoughts and prayers. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">See you soon, my darling. :)</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-49160093015716718962011-04-20T12:47:00.000-07:002011-07-25T06:47:20.743-07:006 months; 1 post<div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This has been a long time coming.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKl-aQqUxk9ul0AQjre366-zB_TNxSDTrGsbJoS8U8GIVXyubHUuZx6RTYjcVWZgFr5UFpifMip9YWp-59MEEmmu28nk68Hwlqh4BTs5mPQbTX_ZznykKeHuPJ4aEqhWhH88Qj38oCuRI/s1600/DSC_1255.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKl-aQqUxk9ul0AQjre366-zB_TNxSDTrGsbJoS8U8GIVXyubHUuZx6RTYjcVWZgFr5UFpifMip9YWp-59MEEmmu28nk68Hwlqh4BTs5mPQbTX_ZznykKeHuPJ4aEqhWhH88Qj38oCuRI/s400/DSC_1255.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span id="goog_1724635104"></span><span id="goog_1724635105"></span></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I would be apologizing profusely for my lack of attention to this blog as of late, but since you, baby girl, will have no clue how long it's really been between posts by the time you read this, I'm pretty sure you'll forgive me. :) [And if you're a friend or family that's just stopping by, you may want to get a snack and strap in. We're gonna be a while.. Really, feel free to take breaks and re-visit later].</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I hesitated even typing "baby girl" right then, because it seems that somehow in just a few short months, you've become so much more a "little girl." Despite daddy's resistance to cutting your beautiful, curly, almost tuck-behind-your-ears-length hair to delay the process, you somehow just grew up. You're addressing people by name now (when you call out "mama!" to me, I can't tell you how my heart soars. I absolutely adore it. Remind me to get that on tape). You can even name all the kids in your daycare class. Of course, this started out with the most easily pronounced (Chase) and had us wondering if we needed to have a talk with Chase's parents about your future together and your seeming obsession with the little man. For a while there, we would ask you who was in your class and all you offered up was "Chase" (along with a bright, beaming smile that was probably just you being proud of yourself but totally kept us conjecturing about your pint-sized relationship). One time when I brought you to school and Chase showed up shortly thereafter, you screamed out his name several times in short succession and darted toward him. Clearly, this only furthered speculation. ;) And more recently, we passed Chase's mom in the hallway (nobody else in the vicinity, natch) and you purposely waited for her to come up to us before shouting "CHASE!" in greeting. I think she was flattered that you recognized her as his mommy, but I was compelled to confess my suspicion of your love affair and we laughed it out. She said they love you, too. But then you started rattling off "Jake," "Livlia" and "Hay-Lee." And my personal favorite [based on tonality alone], "Dru-Dru" (Andrew). Apparently, Chelsea is now stuck saying "Chase," so I think he may have moved on. Playa.<br />
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</div></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The infatuation with BoBo continues, so you're quick to spot any dog in your viewing radius and call attention to its presence. Daddy found this extra comical when picking out birthday cards with you because every other one had a dog on the front. He said you kept walking back and forth excitedly hollering "BoBo!!" "BoBo!" "BoBo!!!" and pulling out each paper pup you discovered. Allegedly, there were about 15 cards on the floor before daddy realized what you were doing.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You also began using words correctly around months 17 & 18 (like hot and cold, shoes, nose, eyes, button, etc... my goodness there are too many to name). Daddy thought it was hilarious when he taught you to properly identify "boobies," so I'm anticipating the call from daycare about you inappropriately denoting your teachers' or classmates' chests any day. You can identify simple things (dog, duck, spoon, ball, eggs, pizza were among the first) and take direction well. My favorite version of this is asking you to "help mommy" do something. You're especially good at folding laundry (taking items out and putting them back into the basket, and then taking them out again) and "wiping" (using a paper towel or baby wipe to towel off your mouth. Or the floor. Or table. Or even daddy, whom you caught off-guard the first time when you went straight for the crotchal region. Hey - it's at your level. And apparently 'you dropped some food there, dad'). Even your teachers say that you become hyper-focused on certain "tasks," and will repeat them over and over. I'd ask if I should be worried about OCD, but I think it's a little early to tell. You have proven to be most helpful in throwing away trash, as the pantry is one of your preferred playplaces. Since you can open and close the door by yourself, you take great pleasure in coaxing mommy or daddy inside and shutting the door. You occasionally let us out when we bang hard enough. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You can identify "boy" and "girl," but adults are all "mama"s and "dada"s. Which is actually quite cute. Daddy was initially very flattered when you pointed to a large, muscly African American gentleman on a magazine and said "dada."</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And now you've begun putting words together. The first example was "good girl," which we use when Hannah is doing something correctly. Since that's not too often, I'm actually a tad surprised you picked this one up (just kidding; we use it on you quite a bit). You also say "up, please" when wanting to be picked up, and have been doing so for at least a couple months now. This has lately transitioned to "hold you" if we don't get you right away - probably because before you say up please you reach out your little arms and look up pleadingly until we ask if you want us to hold you. Since mommy is now in her eighth month of pregness, this is easier said than done for me and apparently frowned upon by BabyCenter. But I still do it. I'm already fearing the day you <b>don't</b> want to be held, so ... whatever BC. You're only 22 pounds anyway (!). </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The word "no" has entered your vocabulary as well; cutest in the form of "No, no Hanla. Stop!" (Said when imploring Hannah to cease licking, nudging or bothering you in whatever fashion). It is less cute when you say it to us. But I have taken to letting you choose the radio station on the drive to school every morning. Mommy tunes in and asks "this one?" To which you will either reply "no," with a hearty shake of the head, or "huh" (meaning, uh-huh) and a single, affirmative nod. Love it. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I feel like you can communicate so much more efficiently, too. Since you can tell us when something "huhts," or point out/say what food you prefer. You let daddy know if you want "oh's" or "eggs" or "gits" (grits) in the mornings, for example. And every time I open the fridge and you spy the olives, you ask for one. (Interestingly, you love olives. Unfortunately, you have a strange compulsion to dip them in doggie water before completely finished. Are you washing the extra salt off?). You must take after mommy in liking the sour and salty stuff, because you've also recently expressed a love for grapefruit. Somehow, I don't think grapefruit is a favorite for most other 1 & 1/2 year-olds. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div>You're also very good with animal noises. Each time we point out a monkey on TV, in a book or on the computer, you give us the "ah, ah, ah!" sound effects. Same for sheep, cow, horse, etc. Pretty much anything you can't identify or that doesn't make noise gets a growl. Which is kind of hysterical when you locate a squirrel or penguin and go "rrrrrr!" </div><div>Evil squirrels...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Storytime has evolved into you 1. patting out a spot on the floor, accompanied by the instruction for mommy or daddy to "sit" (you're kind of demanding), 2. bringing us one of about three preferred reading materials (Hand, Hand Fingers Thumb; One Fish, Two Fish; Cat in the Hat), and 3. going to grab another book after about four pages or distracting yourself by pulling all the other books off the shelf. At bedtime, you'll sit obediently through several stories (unless you're supertired, which you indicate by motioning toward the crib sleepily and telling us 'no' when we ask if you want to read or try to sit down). </div></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In health news (because there's always something, isn't there?), we've gone through another couple ear infections, four [or is it six??] more teeth and a round of pinkeye in the past four months. Those were obvious irritations (as mommy can barely cope with your pain regardless), but then came the rash. This happened to occur during a rare stretch at the end of March when mommy was particularly immersed in work and had to stay late most nights and work over the weekends. I'd barely seen you in two weeks (though SuperJon did a wonderful job taking over) and was deep in PowerPoint purgatory when daddy called me at work. I believe his exact words were "I've been trying to reach you. Ansley has measles and we're taking her to the emergency room. And you can't be around her for a week because it can cause serious brain damage to the baby." Now mommy had never in my life cried in front of a boss or broken down in a professional setting (not that my job can be considered terribly formal)... until that day. The thought of not being in contact with my baby girl for a whole other week or harming my unborn child completely overwhelmed me and brought me to tears. Ok, caused a major meltdown let's be honest. After my terribly understanding boss allowed my exit, I sat in the parking lot and couldn't even start the car. Thank heaven Mia called and was somehow able to talk mommy off the ledge by assuring me that it was very unlikely that what you had was actually measles (though in my defense, daddy had totally said it like there was a doctor diagnosis backing that mess up), and that even if you did, I'd definitely been vaccinated and would not need the weeklong quarantine otherwise mandated. When mommy was finally able to pull herself together enough to drive, Mia and I met at the house to scour your vaccination records, since once we thought about it, we were also fairly certain <b>you'd</b> had an MMR shot in the not-so-distant past. The freakout concluded with daddy's final report that "The doctor doesn't think it's measles. It's probably only roseola or a viral rash." Didn't even require medication. Yeah. Let's give a pregnant lady a heart attack jumping to conclusions shall we? Thank God you were alright, but whew! Perhaps daddy was hoping to induce labor...</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And then there was the call mommy received from school the following week asking if I might have an idea as to why your little bum bum had two small bruises on either side (Ms. Alecia noticed them while changing you). I was so stressed from the recent measles scare and more strenuous work schedule that I couldn't think why that might be the case until the moment I hung up. I called daddy immediately and lamented that I was sure we had unknowingly caused the bruised bottom by encouraging the repetitious singing of Ring Around the Rosey, during which you got so into the "all fall DOWN!" part that you would literally throw your feet out from beneath you and land smack on your buttocks with a loud thud. I'm expecting a call from social services at some point to inquire about our beating you to the point of bruising.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/5RV9MbwUUOI?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In more current events, you and daddy have been building a garden. Though it's been a long road and half the crop was compromised by those pesky squirrels and rabbits (hey, they ARE evil!), it's your project together and I know how proud daddy will be if and when you're able to harvest. You were such a good helper in putting it together and planting seeds. Even if you were a bit more interested in the water bucket and piles of dirt...</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKIGAGps8btZOGGEp0TVxVqMtkiCW7ZTkifsE1MprBzzvTQTyfgeugLxXhQnzvaJ4dFlQNWyFvMKTawaqLTrzu6FQlnDbNsWwjT8cIIqD5MdPoZ2fDikKlL7-821G20S6udVT4PYmNiU/s1600/DSC_0809.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKIGAGps8btZOGGEp0TVxVqMtkiCW7ZTkifsE1MprBzzvTQTyfgeugLxXhQnzvaJ4dFlQNWyFvMKTawaqLTrzu6FQlnDbNsWwjT8cIIqD5MdPoZ2fDikKlL7-821G20S6udVT4PYmNiU/s400/DSC_0809.JPG" width="265" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;">Day 1: Playing around the garden</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8orBK_tGWN6sWz44a3FuzmBQ_dA5gxwbjIebbHjiiNmoXO19sk6sAhaPVwWSvYTVd7qB58uNqlNHgGLA8lDmz9ZkkFRPrjXDvml4Ae1gZy-eMMq5ohyTczHi6qj7X5_85eZN1RQdfg4/s1600/DSC_0813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv8orBK_tGWN6sWz44a3FuzmBQ_dA5gxwbjIebbHjiiNmoXO19sk6sAhaPVwWSvYTVd7qB58uNqlNHgGLA8lDmz9ZkkFRPrjXDvml4Ae1gZy-eMMq5ohyTczHi6qj7X5_85eZN1RQdfg4/s400/DSC_0813.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> "I'm pretty good with a shovel."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIh_yB4RcCTpWmCwyqugqGIqf1DdvlBxXKpdPUx2GYgodOHhSe4JfmsbxGP8kTi-U1SpLWJ6BgzNYLYrkvaO5rLCVt26Dx2-4Lrp6odlFxsqecXQ1F_JzjA1KpQ-LW1Ivxtvo_WtcGsg/s1600/DSC_0822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGIh_yB4RcCTpWmCwyqugqGIqf1DdvlBxXKpdPUx2GYgodOHhSe4JfmsbxGP8kTi-U1SpLWJ6BgzNYLYrkvaO5rLCVt26Dx2-4Lrp6odlFxsqecXQ1F_JzjA1KpQ-LW1Ivxtvo_WtcGsg/s400/DSC_0822.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">"I totally got this."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzublF4lgJXqNDzpnw1e2jIS13jBKzsXY14ruWwFcRTyqLRow4OvUcOZiwQESvDWfbpQjNubyJX8EAH6vcjhK1jOapSfgb8hUsuKHwioWlw1FwrR9niWD2sPbQNz6eLBx1hH8qloJjcUo/s1600/DSC_1035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzublF4lgJXqNDzpnw1e2jIS13jBKzsXY14ruWwFcRTyqLRow4OvUcOZiwQESvDWfbpQjNubyJX8EAH6vcjhK1jOapSfgb8hUsuKHwioWlw1FwrR9niWD2sPbQNz6eLBx1hH8qloJjcUo/s400/DSC_1035.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> Day 2: Using the wheelbarrow just like daddy</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKp3ygbmLtFBrbJ9dW9FGvUyDKlBclrMB_04OdPrx6nkGGOmds_yv5O0uEagw2_ff-N8pyyIV7BGoz6zeRFvyskVp5GxZYg76KDgNJA02OcjhogVfVG4Lxr6MXBSOuYgfnntlGku-DNQ/s1600/DSC_1046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKp3ygbmLtFBrbJ9dW9FGvUyDKlBclrMB_04OdPrx6nkGGOmds_yv5O0uEagw2_ff-N8pyyIV7BGoz6zeRFvyskVp5GxZYg76KDgNJA02OcjhogVfVG4Lxr6MXBSOuYgfnntlGku-DNQ/s400/DSC_1046.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> "I think this plank should move over here.."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_cVNVF5jMVrTyZ2dbCOaepFoJF8s1QKfWmiMArVnaZ-a3-Bkh9kWwhKMbZGm2FWAD6aUqWThACcWn-koQYDkNdktMpxMiji6wxj3zCCUPII8_aUXkvwGaey5OnYMcehLBu1pNT42Hdo/s1600/DSC_1059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij_cVNVF5jMVrTyZ2dbCOaepFoJF8s1QKfWmiMArVnaZ-a3-Bkh9kWwhKMbZGm2FWAD6aUqWThACcWn-koQYDkNdktMpxMiji6wxj3zCCUPII8_aUXkvwGaey5OnYMcehLBu1pNT42Hdo/s400/DSC_1059.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> "Here daddy, let me help you with that."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQygB3ReKxwyvnBLP9dsXF1oVGXvwIkoevf0K6e9ypP8Q7sMt4RF39GA8iLcxPfsqbvhZtz3BWBzXgkU_I5w0d5rdVAqX3by4tpBZx9Mw781T4wWHSmTscrz5c6rHt4uApGKAOvcy9vM/s1600/DSC_1062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQygB3ReKxwyvnBLP9dsXF1oVGXvwIkoevf0K6e9ypP8Q7sMt4RF39GA8iLcxPfsqbvhZtz3BWBzXgkU_I5w0d5rdVAqX3by4tpBZx9Mw781T4wWHSmTscrz5c6rHt4uApGKAOvcy9vM/s400/DSC_1062.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> "Hold on; I gotta take a call."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FFAQRwEyivzORsOOUDWOBTV0loawYlmQLRqSMu0-GyJu6uQBtrpRyIBmTX9xcBfgSRHd7865Lx9y7IjjmqDOrEPN2H_CbADTim1Ti-wcdmTUd6yqLkKC3FaqJrIXhpzWlghbIxld_S4/s1600/DSC_1084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4FFAQRwEyivzORsOOUDWOBTV0loawYlmQLRqSMu0-GyJu6uQBtrpRyIBmTX9xcBfgSRHd7865Lx9y7IjjmqDOrEPN2H_CbADTim1Ti-wcdmTUd6yqLkKC3FaqJrIXhpzWlghbIxld_S4/s400/DSC_1084.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> Yes, mommy sees you with your hand all up in that bucket..</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvz7DW3CEapXhq_8czD2VAKIg28qt4ZOZKrztiFkPRJBGn_ItJZ65OGH4einfmzFwAUVvtymGc_UoKSGWRB_ZFzzij3qxOaQhQzN8EXCTELVbUZXq2HWJTPfEyQkJLqz8QDw9-MurG-Ss/s1600/DSC_1115.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvz7DW3CEapXhq_8czD2VAKIg28qt4ZOZKrztiFkPRJBGn_ItJZ65OGH4einfmzFwAUVvtymGc_UoKSGWRB_ZFzzij3qxOaQhQzN8EXCTELVbUZXq2HWJTPfEyQkJLqz8QDw9-MurG-Ss/s400/DSC_1115.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">And now we plant!</span></div></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Your obsessions as of late include:</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1. Dolls/Babies. Holy flipping goodness. If you feel the need to hold or play with one of your 5 (and counting) babydolls and don't see one in the immediate vicinity, you call out "behbee; behbee; behbee" longingly and circle each room hunting for a child. Most of the time, you prefer to have two or more behbees in your possession at once. None of your dolls have names, save Barbie (who is actually a Barbie). Funny thing is, you distinctly call her "Bawbee" in contrast.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j7xR6d3LUB8UuWDxcDosWGJ3fydWbmuh2PsH_mR11C_2q9AOj0DDPupjq-0jMWmZoTT9pPR3xbmn93VxQ7e1e5cB6SbmX4piaf79A6-mVefclpLbItLibeb1m2dTphFZwNYo-SOuYZM/s1600/DSC_0800.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j7xR6d3LUB8UuWDxcDosWGJ3fydWbmuh2PsH_mR11C_2q9AOj0DDPupjq-0jMWmZoTT9pPR3xbmn93VxQ7e1e5cB6SbmX4piaf79A6-mVefclpLbItLibeb1m2dTphFZwNYo-SOuYZM/s400/DSC_0800.JPG" width="265" /></a></div><br />
You play-act with all of them; taking them in the tub and "washing" their hair, or removing clothes and changing diapers (which, obviously, in your current wiping craze necessitates an actual baby wipe). We have to make sure when you turn them over, pat their backs and put them "night-night" that we're not too loud or that little finger will shoot up to your mouth and warn us to "shhh! ("behbee sleep!")." At daycare you tend to make a beeline for the dolls when I set you down, and you crack your teachers up making them do all kinds of things (like ride the rocking horse and pet the stuffed animals). Supposedly, you get quite the 'tude if a playmate snatches one of "your" babies - even if you've set it down and moved on to other things (like "excuse me! that's <b>mine</b>"). Changing the babies particularly piques your interest, and you will claim to discover "behbee, poop!" at regular intervals. They tell me you're rather diligent in checking your classmates' diapers as well (omg!!), and will let your teachers know if someone's dropped a deuce. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Improper? Perhaps. Helpful? Quite.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But you've always been a bit of a leader in the class. Last week when I sent you off, you ran to the dolls and began passing them out. Seriously. I watched you pick up a kid, call out "Chase," and hand it over when he came obediently to you. Then you grabbed another and called Andrew. Such a good little mommy. If a bit polygamous...</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2. YouTube. I know, many grown-ups are a tad obsessive about this one, too, but you will honestly sit and watch 45 minutes of random videos on the internet like a pro potato. It's surreal. You clearly have your go-to vids, such as the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A49PPEk3fYQ">Muffin Man</a> (love to watch you bop your head up and down to the beat) and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MtN1YnoL46Q">duck song</a> ("and he waddled away.. waddle waddle... till the very next day"). You've grown tired of the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=astISOttCQ0">gummi bear</a> one, but that obscene underwear-clad dancing green jellybear was your singer of choice for quite some time. We've even found some oldies but goodies like the Elephant Show theme song (<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EEEsX69iIxY">skinamarink</a>) and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2072391186">Supercalifragalisticexpialidoc</a><wbr></wbr><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4b-Z0SSyUcw">ious</a>. When we've run through the favs list, mommy will ask what else you want to watch, and the answer to this question is inevitably "behbees" or "bobos." So we find some silly dog tricks or chubby laughing babes to satiate your fix. But sometimes you fall asleep.<br />
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</div></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3. The phone. Besides the fact that you are now "calling" people and pretending to talk to them, you're also quite proficient at the toddler games on mommy and daddy's phones. You especially like <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/ie/app/funny-flash-cards-morphing/id346526059?mt=8">morphing animal flash cards</a>, which you refer to as "Bobos." Basically, they show a warped animal shape, you shake the screen and it goes back to its original shape, then spells out the animal. You shake it again to get a new one. I'm fairly convinced you go through all the animals solely to find the dog and ape.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4. Dancing. Yes, daddy, we're in trouble. Aside from the fact that you actually require no music and "can dance all by yourself" (mommy swells with pride), you take great pleasure in doing the Night at the Roxbury head bop and waving your hands to anything with a good beat even while strapped in your carseat. [JB's "baby, baby, baby" gets you every time].<br />
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</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/H3dPsHLQiaw?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You've even taken to imitating silly movements mommy does with her hands and head. And when you're unrestrained and free of the car, watch out. One of your Valentines gifts was a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E3eguB6fD5A">Tik Tok-singing "sidestepper" monkey</a>. You still love turning it on and groovin' with the monk. When you lay on the floor and began inappropriately thrusting your hips in the air at one point, however, we had to intervene. It was a smidge too <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXtLsFsB70c">'Little Miss Sunshine'</a> for the grownups ... though the intervention may or may not have been delayed by our rolling around cracking up at that visual. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">5. Bugs. Apparently, mommy scared you something fierce the first time you saw a bug and you were forever traumatized, because every little piece of fuzz, speck of dirt, thread, furball or dust bunny around must be carefully inspected to determine its non-bugness before you are satisfied. When you see any such offending particle, you whimper, point, cry out "bug!" and back away postehaste. Mommy's job is to then identify it as "not a bug" and dispose of it properly. This really sucks when it actually is a bug. You're also going through a phase where there are certain things you're scared of, but fascinated with. Which is utterly confusing for mommy, since I don't know whether to let you play with/see those things or hide them away. One such item is your "chatterbox Cookie Monster" that pretty much just says random phrases anytime his mouth flops open. You're just not sure why or how those sounds come out, so you go back and forth with whether or not you actually want him around. At Mia's house, that item is a porcelain mask with hat and feathers that hangs on the wall. I think maybe you're worried it will come to life suddenly, and you want to make sure it doesn't. It's ok. Mommy has always found that mask slightly creepy myself (don't tell Mia). </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">6. Potty. Ok. So I've hitherto mentioned (once or twice) daddy's propensity for early potty training, which he began encouraging around month 17 with edible rewards (Reese's Pieces. How very ET, right?). It began by simply extending a Piece for the act of sitting down longer than two seconds, and then we started removing the pants and trying it at the same time each day when you got up. Now, you're totally preoccupied with anything potty, and frequently order "mommy, potty. daddy, potty. wipe." We are well aware when you pass gas, but you politely warn us that you've gone "toot toot!" after the fact. You also know exactly what it means to go "poop-poop" (not to be confused with KaKa - more on that later), but are less forthcoming with that info. Not that it isn't obvious. Any time you need to take a two, you stop what you're doing, find a sturdy object to brace yourself, and grunt away till it's done. Your little face will turn red, you won't let us touch you, and when we ask "are you pooping?" you lie and totally deny it. Daddy frequently tries to get you on the potty before the struggle, but when he asks if you want to sit down, you give a panicked "no.. no" in response. </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now it's happened once or twice that you've had trouble with the 2s, and at these times mommy and daddy have panicked. Especially when you call for "help?" in the midst of fruitless grunting. Since being backed up also causes you to refuse food and drink, we went a little crazy the first time it occurred. Daddy came running downstairs (having heard your pitiful protests), whisked you up to draw a warm bath and ordered mommy out to retrieve prunes and .. suppositories (as a last resort). I combed two drugstores before finding the correct medicine, rushing back home and sprinting up the stairs – sure to find my poor babydoll writhing in pain. I rounded the corner to our bathroom to find a full tub: sans Ansley, but graced with something else. Something that <b>surely</b> could not have come from your tiny little (absence of a) back side. Could it? It was eerily quiet, so I listened for a moment and heard a muffled voice from your room. As I pushed open the door, you looked up contentedly from the book daddy was reading and flashed a delighted smirk that told mommy everything I needed to know. My kid can muster up a turd beyond her years. We took photographic evidence, but I'll spare any peripheral readers the graphic nature and refrain from posting the content here. Suffice it to say: holy crap.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Clearly, we're still not ready for a serious commitment, since everyone mommy's consulted says the new baby will completely throw off your sit and go mojo, but you're so interested in it, we can't stop completely. And though the plunge to PullUps or panties has not yet been made, you are suddenly hating to be changed in a major way. (Like, you throw fits when we mention the act of changing you and try to convince us to change a behbee instead). Despite this little hiccup, you've peepeed on your pot a handful of times. On Easter Sunday, you were bathing one of your behbees in your water table in the front yard when you noticed that this particular bathtime babe has a hole between its legs (I guess for drainage), and appears to "potty" when taken from the water. Of course, this brought on an immediate chorus of "behbee, potty! behbee, potty!" and required the hasty relocation of one of your toddler toilets to the lawn (where baby could properly sit and do its business).<br />
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After a good half hour of this process (dunk plastic child, let her wee, repeat), you mentioned the deuce. I was all set to drop a Hershey's Kiss in the water below the doll when we realized you meant YOU had to poo. And right there in the front yard, with Mia, Zade and anyone on our street who happened to be looking out a window in attendance, we didn't even think twice about stripping you down to sit on your potty (sorry!). After a minute of sound effects, mommy was joking with Mia about the likelihood of your a. actually going #2 in the pot, and b. doing so completely nekkid in front of the entire neighborhood, when you got up, turned around and pointed. And there in the toilet in the middle of the yard was your masterpiece. Everyone was so excited/proud/amused at once we could barely contain the cheering, laughing, praise and celebration. Zade asked if you had a piggy bank where we could reward you for your hard work, so we brought it down and he helped you insert a number of whole dollars. Then we realized that this looked really bad in the absence of clothes (we had at least wiped you and applied a diaper at that point) and subsequently retreated inside so as not to embarrass ourselves further in front of the neighbors.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">7. Ka-Ka. No, not the Spanish translation. In this case, Kaka is your own shortening of Mia's pup's name: Kashi. Kaka is a mini LhasaPoo. You absolutely love him, and request him frequently. He is small and soft (like you!), so I understand the compulsion. When I mention "going to Mia's" or anything Mia-related, "Kaka?" is your swift response. But it's probably pretty funny for bystanders to hear a little toddler walking around hailing "Kaka!!" every few seconds when you're on a roll. It's exceptionally humorous when you're asking KaKa to sit, as "sit" sounds like the English slang for the translation of Spanish caca. But Kaka can entertain Ansley like no other. You giggle when he leaps onto the bed or runs for a toy, and when he does his circus dance (up on the hind legs batting the paws) you shriek with delight. You like to imitate KaKa's toothy smile. You take great care, however, to avoid his puppy pads - even when there's nothing on them. I guess because that's where "Kaka poop." </div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">8. Boxes. Bryker's bedding arrived a couple months ago and we saved the box for you to play with. Evidently, this was one of the smarter things mommy and daddy could have done, because you've since logged hours of playtime in the box, on the box, in the box with daddy, banging on the box while daddy is inside, asking mommy to join you on the box, hiding things in the box, peekabooing up and down from the box and just generally playing with the large, plain cardboard box. We are so not buying you any more toys (just kidding ;)<br />
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</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You're still a pretty good eater, unless you're teething or not feeling well. Grits are your fave, followed closely by Raisin Bran (I know. Go figure), and you frequently request tea as a beverage. Our fault for introducing you to it, I know. It's pretty much all juice all the time now, since you're still not so keen on the milk unless slurping it from the remains of your cereal (so perhaps it's the sugar content??).</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And fyi, this entry has been brought to you by the color <b>blue</b> and the number <b>2</b>, as those are clearly your current color and number of choice. I take it you're learning this stuff in school, because any time you have two things together, you will very plainly state "two. behbees." Or "blue. ball." Those are the ones you get every time, but I've been noticing more and more accurate identifications of red and items in groups of three as well. Your capacity to learn at the point is completely amazing to me.</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You are just so entertaining, enjoyable, loving and cute!! Mommy is enamored with you and most everything about 20-month-old you. You've now started in on "dad-DEE" and "mom-MEE" (as opposed to dada, mama), you're hugging people goodbye, and you walk around with a purpose and occupy yourself with games and tasks. You smile on command and say "cheese!" when we're taking pictures (without prompting). Sometimes you make silly faces just because. I think I've been remiss in your journal entries because I've just been watching you live and trying to hold those moments in my heart. Suffice it to say that the fact that you're now hugging and giving kisses without prompting is my dream come true. Honestly–when you wrap your sweet arms around my neck and actually squeeze, mommy could cry from elation. Every time. And I think to myself, "this is why I wanted kids!!" Oh my geez I'm crying just thinking about it. And when I come home and you run into my arms with the biggest, best grin and request "more hugs".. Let me go ahead and call pregnant (and stop myself from gushing too annoyingly). It's overwhelming. Mommy is so blessed to have you in my life. I love you more than I could ever tell you on some blog. I hope someday you get to feel the same thing for your kids because it's pretty much incredible.</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-36397961991386356392010-12-21T09:17:00.000-08:002010-12-25T09:31:39.520-08:00JAM(B)<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">{16 months just the other day}<br />
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</div><u>The A Report</u></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Present dislikes are:<br />
wiping your hands and face after a meal<br />
changing clothes<br />
getting your hair washed<br />
brushing your hair<br />
putting your hair up <br />
pretty much anything having to do with your hair<br />
being woken up<br />
cutting new teeth (we all dislike that one)<br />
cold milk</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Likes:<br />
shaking your head vehemently in indication of dislikes<br />
grabbing Hanna's tail<br />
feeding yourself<br />
green beans, mashed potatoes, sweet tea<br />
playing with the hairdryer<br />
pacifiers </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">soft things (like blankets & "bobo"s)<br />
taking the dogs out (i.e. letting you grasp part of Hannabelle's leash while we do the corralling)<br />
being held when you're upset or not feeling well<br />
grape Tylenol<br />
daddy<br />
<br />
Your happy dance is my current favorite personality trait. When you're super-excited about something (like, for instance, stealing a sip of chocolate shake for the first time), you cock a smile, start with a shoulder wiggle and then quick-jog tap dance in place. You only do this when extra-specially pleased, so it's a treat to catch.<br />
<br />
Since one of your favorite things is being tickled by daddy, you've actually begun requesting it by eyeing daddy suspiciously, backing up and snickering in anticipation of the attack. You even say a version of "tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle-tickle!" like daddy does when tickling. Then you try to do it to him. Presh.<br />
<br />
Yesterday mommy was getting you ready for school and had only managed to remove the top half of your pjs when you began flailing your arms wildly. Daddy found this highly amusing and starting singing "I'm so excited, I'm so excited, and I just can't hide it" in accompaniment (a la the Pointer Sisters - or Saved by the Bell - depending on your generational preference ;) You then worked yourself up into even more of a tizzy and got down with a whole body shake. It was so funny to us that we just sat there laughing and singing as much as we could remember to keep you boppin. I'll have to remind daddy that encouraging you to dance topless is perhaps not the most intelligent of ideas in the future...<br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I just think you really like music. Wheels on the bus might be your favorite, since you can do most of the movements that go along with it (kind of like dancing). Sometimes you even get your dollies in on the action by shaking them to the beat (daddy taught you how). We have two "groovy girls" dolls, their bed and stroller that we purchased at a garage sale down the street. Interestingly, you most enjoy sitting on the bed yourself and persuading us to push you around in the stroller. <br />
Yes, it's built for dolls. <br />
No, that doesn't stop you. <br />
Or us (like I've said before: enablers). <br />
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<br />
You can now feed yourself alarmingly well, if not with complete accuracy. The dogs are looking mighty plump as a result.<br />
But you are a great eater, and you sign for hungry and all done (you could probably say it, but actions are more fun, right?). Most of the time, however, you just sign for "more." In relation to everything. I like to think that when I'm holding you or giving you kisses, you're signing for "more mommy love." Usually it ends up being food or a paci. Or daddy.<br />
<br />
You are finding your voice, though, and have been repeating certain words we say. Helping me fold the laundry one weekend, you uttered a perfect "shirt." Crystal clear. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Hasn't been repeated since.<br />
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</div>Other things come up more often. When Mia drove you around one day and you heard her tell the other cars to "go, go, go!" you locked it in your memory and have been shouting "go, go, go!" every time we're in the car (and sometimes when we're not). You've recently changed it to "ho, ho, ho" in honor of the holidays. :)<br />
<br />
I guess the repetitive stuff is easier for you, because after watching the "grasshopper" episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, you began singing "bop, bop, bop" in response to "do the grasshopper..." That or we have just watched certain on-demand episodes waaaay to many times. You're even parroting the advertisement that comes on in between stuff when the moose says "ya-yuh... sweet!" Your imitation of him is spot-on. <br />
<br />
For some reason, most of your memorable incidents happen at school. Though you've regressed to the scream-cry when I leave (save the few times I've managed to sneak out during snack), we are often greeted by one or more of your friends attempting to crawl into mommy's lap with you or bring you a toy. One particular morning, I sat you down and doggone it if every boy in class didn't flock to you en masse. I though it was just precious, if slightly alarming. Quite the greeting, little princess. You must have smelled of syrup...<br />
<br />
On a random Thursday, Mia dropped you off and disclosed that you and Chase had slow-danced that day. While <b>holding hands</b>. It's probably best I didn't see it in person, 'cause I fully believe my heart would have shorted out for a minute over all that sweetness. <br />
<br />
We've been giving in on the no-pacis-except-at-bedtime rule a bit due to your recent tooth resurgence. It just seems to comfort you, so we leave an emergency paci (or "e-pac") at school just in case. One morning after we washed our hands, you walked right over to a (somewhat hidden) spare toys bin, reached down between a few things, and plucked out YOUR paci. I looked at you incredulously and said "There's no way you hid that there purposely... right?" The paci-filled Cheshire cat smirk you shot back was confirmation enough.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, not all your school time is filled with cuteness and pleasantly entertaining stories of play. I'm sad to report that your class officially has a serial biter. We're pretty sure we know who it is, but when they call and send home the note, the euphemistic and PC phrase is "your child was bitten by a friend." Well apparently, your little friend decided to become a cannibal and go in for the kill by biting the crud out of your plump little rosy cheek. The red marks lingered for days. Not that I blame his desire to aim there, but a kiss would have been preferable. You poor, poor baby. As it says on the sheet VK sent home, the course of action after such an occurrence was to apply ice, hugs and kisses, but I bet that hurt and scared you something fierce. The next day when I dropped you off, we found your friend Chelsea with a matching red mark on her puffy cheek and the kids separated into two groups. When mommy told Ms. Alecia that I hate for you to have been a victim, but I was a little glad you weren't the biter, she said "Yeah, Ansley doesn't really bite. She tends to slap." <br />
*sigh* Exactly. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(I should at least mention here, though, that your swatting/slapping instinct does seem to have lessened. Conceivably, we've rounding that corner and with any luck it will soon pass. Though it's sure to resurface sometime around May 5th..)<br />
<br />
I am happy to report that we've finally turned your carseat around, since you exceeded the weight limit just recently. I really don't think it was comfortable having to scrunch your long legs up against the back anyway, so the timing was good.<br />
<br />
We're almost ready for the holidays now. You can tell by the guest room dedicated solely to your presents. And by the ornaments <strike>strewn about</strike> hung on the tree (daddy had the amazing idea to have you help us put up decorations, which has resulted in your constant desire to remove an ornament and then unsuccessfully "put it back"). And the fact that there was snow on the ground for a few days just a couple weeks ago. Mommy and daddy took you out to play briefly, but it was mighty cold and your boots were not of the "snow" variety—they left you slipping and sliding with a buildup of sticky flakes on the soles. You sure did look darling nonetheless.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPou5CYYLnnDyLtls7YnCJFqsSjfl5vy9877h44-GJfdqSSn2n4H_P1jqzQazLE_bqO-a1vneCBiWjz9DRDs4d3xsK4lHxdNX_rEmLrISO3cY8RWn2OaVxnm6sDatOoUpMpxmgdhoGpP0/s1600/-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>And now on to your brother, baby B... or should I say baby Bryker because...<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: #999999;"><br />
</div><div style="background-color: #999999; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #999999; color: #9fc5e8; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">iT's A BoY!</span></span></div><div style="background-color: #999999;"><br />
</div><br />
Or, as Dr. Cousins so delicately puts it, "It's a penis!"<br />
<br />
Good thing, too, because daddy says when he thinks about it, he's not sure he could've handled more hormone-filled balls of emotion like you and mommy without reinforcement. <br />
<br />
I have to admit, it does feel like the pressure is off at least a little with this blog, because I know he simply will not be as interested to hear about his paci-flinging, potty training, daycare days of our lives as much as you (being a girl) probably will. But I'll try to keep it up all the same and devote parts to both you and him. <br />
<br />
So here's the update on <i>you</i>, little mister Bryker Jon:<br />
<br />
Around the 10 week mark, mommy went and had her eyes checked. My prescription hadn't changed, so they rewrote it and sent me on my merry way. Lo and behold, about a month later I was driving to work and something just didn't seem right. I couldn't focus, and things looked blurry. So I sucked it up and wore my (very old) glasses for a couple weeks before they could get me in to re-check. Come to find out, a little baby was messing with my head and somehow affected mommy's vision! The doc said it isn't very common, but he'd seen it before. Hopefully it will go back after you're born, but you never know. Maybe you just wanted to ensure that I saw the world differently with you. ;) Most definitely, baby.<br />
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Speaking of appearances, everybody says they can see you much more, and noticed you much earlier than your sister (since you're #2, I'm not surprised). Daddy thinks you're sitting lower down, thus perpetuating that "boys are carried lower" wives tale.<br />
<br />
I felt your first movement around 17 weeks or so. You've been quite active since then; reassuring me when I get a little nervous and reminding me of your presence. I like the swirls and rolls. They're probably the thing I missed most about being pregnant when I wasn't. But having a sweet baby to actually hold in your arms remedies that pretty well. It's quite possible we'll get to the point where you're taking up a bit more space and the jabbing starts to hurt, but I'll just enjoy the mini-flips and twists for now. Literally, you're doing them as I type. Awwww. My little fishie.<br />
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After your anatomy ultrasound, mommy and daddy had a date night at Red Lobster to celebrate and conjecture about the teeball games and campouts of the future. Daddy is very excited about these things, so even if you're not really into them, if you wouldn't mind just pretending for a while, that would be great. Thanks, B. You're off the hook if your sister likes them. ;)<br />
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We took a few bets on what you'd be, but I'd had a boy feeling for a while. Of course, this convinced me that I was actually having a girl and something was trying to throw me off, but you, my sweet little one, have been blessedly easy on mommy. I don't know what it was that made me think I'd be violently ill with a wee lad (ok, I do know - it was my mom and the difficult time she had). Let's just say I know how lucky I am, and I'm thankful for it every day. <br />
<br />
Maybe (to quote a clever friend) if He only gives you what you can handle, I can't handle much. I like to think that I'm just meant to have your daddy's babies, and perhaps several of them, so God is taking it easy on me. I know that's not necessarily true because tons of people who deserve to have the easiest pregnancies have really tough ones, but that's what I'll choose to believe for now. It's ok if I'm delusional, cause I'm pregnant. <br />
<br />
Just last week, there were a flurry of events (outside the womb) that had mommy and daddy on full alert, but turned out to be relatively minor. After our annual friend holiday party, mommy was walking (yes just walking) to the car, stepped off the curb wrong and sprained my ankle. I fell to my hands and knees—mostly because I was carrying stuff and couldn't put any weight on the foot, and daddy came running. It's still just a little sore, but the worst part was not being able to carry and chase after your sister. She so did not understand that. ;) <br />
<br />
And then two days later, coming home from work, mommy was rear-ended on Wendover. When I finally got ahold of daddy (on the one day he left his phone at the office) to tell him I was not hurt, but they were towing my car just in case the airbag deployed late, he stopped listening after "towing my car," decided it was totaled, then proceeded to call his entire family to let them know. I felt fine, save a small amount of whiplash, but we did want to be sure you were ok so daddy and Mia took me to the hospital to get everything checked out. You will not be allowed on Wendover during rush-hour until you're 25, by the way.<br />
<br />
But now we're past the half-way mark and everything (that can be checked) checks out. Mommy was way too giddy about getting a few small Christmas presents just for you. Ansley will be opening them in your stead, since your own hands are kinda small and tucked inside mommy's belly right now (probably shielding your face, as you like to do during ultrasounds). <br />
<br />
We are so overjoyed to add another bundle of love to the family in several short months. I sometimes think I'm still in shock and not really processing it. Daddy often forgets I'm pregnant (ok I'm not going to hide it; I do too. Only 'cause you're so wonderful and quiet. Just know that it's a too-good-to-be-true kind of scenario, kid). We can't wait to welcome you into the world. Hopefully not until April/May, though. Just sit tight till then ;) </div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-5313256843007839372010-11-08T08:23:00.000-08:002010-11-08T08:23:56.664-08:00Septoberfest and a Little Announcement<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">{14 1/2 months and going way too fast}</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlXifquO6sjry0OtjnCGEPLZj4H2RtBVyffpAxqsiLfXkliHbUnuUubvsdYUBgobDT_2tlsRf-oOjX-UAF4ZvnMFm4n36HTkdup169Ri7EcXgbeuuej4aiXTscGb2xsx7MKWCHFSDNpU/s1600/DSCN0863_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlXifquO6sjry0OtjnCGEPLZj4H2RtBVyffpAxqsiLfXkliHbUnuUubvsdYUBgobDT_2tlsRf-oOjX-UAF4ZvnMFm4n36HTkdup169Ri7EcXgbeuuej4aiXTscGb2xsx7MKWCHFSDNpU/s400/DSCN0863_small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The babbling has become very conversational lately, and I often feel like I'm holding a conversation with you, though you're saying nothing coherent. Your repertoire of actual words has grown to include ball, baby, bo (you adorably call all dogs "bobo"s), up, mia, bumpa, go, and juice. There are probably more, but those are fairly consistent. We're working on please and thank you. ;)<br />
<br />
And since we're on the subject of talking, your most favorite expression of excitement right now is the gleeful squeal. Though I am quite certain anyone who is not related to you would call it overkill, you like to let loose a short, piercing shriek when greeting your friends, playing with Hannah, and pretty much any time you're excessively psyched. I think it's perfectly delightful that you and Jake exchange quick scream-greetings when I drop you off, but since it also sometimes incites the other kids to screech and shout, I doubt your teachers find it so cute... <br />
<br />
You may be teaching them bad habits, but at least they're helping you drop others. Thanks to daycare, you have also begun relinquishing the paci (save extenuating circumstances—like sleeping at night). You don't even put up a fight anymore when I remove it and send you off to play.<br />
<br />
Of course, one of your favorite things to do is eat. Yes, you're still particular about milk and will only drink it once a day in warm bottle form (seriously, I'm just gonna put all the bottles up one day and be like uh-oh where did they go? Mommy and daddy are such enablers), but when you're hungry, it's go-time. I love watching you eat noodles, since you somehow got that 'lady and the tramp' slurp down and they disappear faster than I can twist. Pizza and pasta are high on your list, but your favorite is still barbecue and green beans. My little Southern girl! We know you're done (or bored) when those food- or sauce-filled hands dart up and rub the yummy goodness in your hair. [*shaking head in defeat]. At least it makes for some interesting hairstyles.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-E06xP_iMjLp9IbLlgcJ7Sw7Riopiz4VT-k3yE5DVwpoEq5JhD5h29B801_RoqXrAo2KWU16v6lick3WEfGVPDlslEt41oOMu5tp7tp9N0SjrS0fw4VRFyH71g1yGm9T5jCFjnD5wpk/s1600/ry=480-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-E06xP_iMjLp9IbLlgcJ7Sw7Riopiz4VT-k3yE5DVwpoEq5JhD5h29B801_RoqXrAo2KWU16v6lick3WEfGVPDlslEt41oOMu5tp7tp9N0SjrS0fw4VRFyH71g1yGm9T5jCFjnD5wpk/s400/ry=480-3.jpeg" width="281" /></a></div><br />
We took you to the Dixie Classic Fair in early October, though daddy felt you were still a little young to enjoy everything. Not necessarily, we found, since you downed half the 32-oz lemonade we'd purchased for ourselves and 3/4 of my roasted corn. You absolutely loved the petting zoo, even if you tried to eat the "feed carrots" yourself and kept trying to kiss the goats (I know they kind of look like dogs, sweetie, but they're not). And aside from a 45-minute power nap, you hung like a champ. After your nap, we rode a couple rides and called it a day, but I'm glad we went. You even tried your first taste of cotton candy and funnel cake. Next year will really be a treat. If we don't give you a stomachache...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUrbDzAYt6XBNgLFAe50MfZl36Mpdq5iyWss0wKLHjqfSRxNbLy9E5HyIDib4hsTRyu-bRTh4xwx0h7NwraoK-ls3YGrTiyj2YsS4vBPVWc3JbWoWxMPdAd8eNvBTFhjbZ7rqlGiOQW0/s1600/DSCN0785_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUrbDzAYt6XBNgLFAe50MfZl36Mpdq5iyWss0wKLHjqfSRxNbLy9E5HyIDib4hsTRyu-bRTh4xwx0h7NwraoK-ls3YGrTiyj2YsS4vBPVWc3JbWoWxMPdAd8eNvBTFhjbZ7rqlGiOQW0/s400/DSCN0785_small.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> "I think I'm gonna like the fair!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu8dHkcS-jK6E2vdj4cE09M2ldcggqAfwzNY4Tp8UlqXjmkZDCE5pFZ3d3l6tpKCCIWwLczvo1e-CZTjIOeGy3griSxfilE3DO2Qndccz3CQb1k5wBOKFtDenjRvJmSeimwIKd1gVu_k/s1600/DSCN0774_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfu8dHkcS-jK6E2vdj4cE09M2ldcggqAfwzNY4Tp8UlqXjmkZDCE5pFZ3d3l6tpKCCIWwLczvo1e-CZTjIOeGy3griSxfilE3DO2Qndccz3CQb1k5wBOKFtDenjRvJmSeimwIKd1gVu_k/s400/DSCN0774_small.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: #fff2cc;">"It's a bit sunny. Dad, glasses STAT"</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8SNneDmg_ruVsj9_N5ytpiLs-o8KSl08CLelUQx1MHhGNFFICisBlFK1mEibt7t6R9ZCsJiGCgJZCPRteRHI-VgUB3VeEw01_8TDPMaRSXUQU6O53HubTuA1-MULQjNxu7WN6vGpwis/s1600/DSCN0790_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV8SNneDmg_ruVsj9_N5ytpiLs-o8KSl08CLelUQx1MHhGNFFICisBlFK1mEibt7t6R9ZCsJiGCgJZCPRteRHI-VgUB3VeEw01_8TDPMaRSXUQU6O53HubTuA1-MULQjNxu7WN6vGpwis/s400/DSCN0790_small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> (Maybe you'll like the rides better when you're old enough to go on them yourself. <br />
And you're awake)</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenGYPY1Yvv6gwwUVmPrgHVU0emIL_Cm4C8N6KOmgrphl5t5Ww8VuoLDUIAlstqEgWSLEtEPws6jNpLo_KmtBpuyDCXWalU9x9bu8qLtIOKPOiFzhbaAAS6SNowsWMQnNqDWbUTHDA02Q/s1600/DSCN0794_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenGYPY1Yvv6gwwUVmPrgHVU0emIL_Cm4C8N6KOmgrphl5t5Ww8VuoLDUIAlstqEgWSLEtEPws6jNpLo_KmtBpuyDCXWalU9x9bu8qLtIOKPOiFzhbaAAS6SNowsWMQnNqDWbUTHDA02Q/s400/DSCN0794_small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; text-align: center;"> (Feeding the goats. Right before you tried to kiss them)</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAjsDUJnyS8fhlDTdrJ0rufpptnSxslDwDOsLbwZsxZSp85j1Hhb65QSwtLF8WCgQuQJqGNdCga03wFuNP1z8g-djF_QTFP99C5ms-PWTMGNEA8L2CUbJ4YWePeJF03P8qJ_YJ57qonA/s1600/DSCN0797_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAjsDUJnyS8fhlDTdrJ0rufpptnSxslDwDOsLbwZsxZSp85j1Hhb65QSwtLF8WCgQuQJqGNdCga03wFuNP1z8g-djF_QTFP99C5ms-PWTMGNEA8L2CUbJ4YWePeJF03P8qJ_YJ57qonA/s400/DSCN0797_small.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">"I'm sorry; what is THAT?" </span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZJblCi57n8_R29fDKblBzb4gJn19Kz0rQXOQDbDz55OjGwN0RLNeBC7Pvd0N_6DQGvAs9GTn8xc085l5tOVR4udE7Bk0g9j7YrTUHGYYTPjUbnqinr2Nx3kOCNLUS1_AkO_QVXl7dSI/s1600/DSCN0799_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZJblCi57n8_R29fDKblBzb4gJn19Kz0rQXOQDbDz55OjGwN0RLNeBC7Pvd0N_6DQGvAs9GTn8xc085l5tOVR4udE7Bk0g9j7YrTUHGYYTPjUbnqinr2Nx3kOCNLUS1_AkO_QVXl7dSI/s400/DSCN0799_small.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> "Niiiice alpaca. Sooooft."</span></div><br />
You've definitely become more.. sensitive? aware? adult? of late, and when you're hurt or sad it takes a bit longer to calm those nerves. It's clear this is part of growing up, though, since it's hard to understand those feelings at first. Just this morning, something fell on my foot and when I cried out in pain, you got scared and ran to me whimpering. It's really amazing the things you're starting to grasp. You seem to swat out randomly when frustrated, since you can't yet say what you need. Sadly, the dogs and a few brave friends at school receive the brunt of those beatings. We try to curb it by showing you "sweet" and "gentle," but it's a natural part of your development, too, and supposedly quite normal at this stage. Most recently, you've started building up tantrums in the middle of meals. When you've had enough and can shake your head no more, you wind up and lob food away like a major league pitcher. We try really hard not to laugh.<br />
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You have a unique fascination with shoes and the act of putting them on, and will often grab one of daddy's large dress shoes and haul it over for a fitting session. Funnily enough, you're also fairly obsessed with your reflection, and must think you look especially good in hats. Every time we place one upon your head, you hold it steady and slowly walk to the mirror to check out the hotness. It is so flipping cute.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCiPtnHEQGCe6bxmlRhqpa4rfux_3uPjpxEquFTx1-QYEUil8N60KzLRcDh904KaKdyznWVh1I1iF2OcFFPcfWb517y1ne4CCuReMY2qMp0YA91FsfwZMT86q8LEbYzPrZtlrfhEoxmQ/s1600/-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNCiPtnHEQGCe6bxmlRhqpa4rfux_3uPjpxEquFTx1-QYEUil8N60KzLRcDh904KaKdyznWVh1I1iF2OcFFPcfWb517y1ne4CCuReMY2qMp0YA91FsfwZMT86q8LEbYzPrZtlrfhEoxmQ/s320/-1.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><br />
You're still as active as ever, which was totally evident at your school Halloween party where all the other kids sat quietly with their snack as you climbed on the table and danced around your chair (let's not practice those two things together in the future though, k?). We spent the majority of the time chasing you round the room to ensure a minimal amount of destruction and flailing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUm0DnTwjmnojETvBFX_ghSjoWIVvXrcFAI3FtmdodPHfsunW1fyI41TXg8PsfdSfkDPU4MMjsNtKq-oF_uSg_Cqn8yg4wVv4NKXq3NG-2CV82RDMwSzJMZY3znfyEPPih6cB_RXECZQ/s1600/DSCN0891_small..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHUm0DnTwjmnojETvBFX_ghSjoWIVvXrcFAI3FtmdodPHfsunW1fyI41TXg8PsfdSfkDPU4MMjsNtKq-oF_uSg_Cqn8yg4wVv4NKXq3NG-2CV82RDMwSzJMZY3znfyEPPih6cB_RXECZQ/s400/DSCN0891_small..jpg" width="237" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV95n_lstxpFS3iMWsMY1pMx-HmErfp3_WRNZP1UrTYd32jqth7NS0nW9GK4eL2P5nHNZFOAEp-5smkpyrVq_CNDR31vVB-65pOL76wGd1YVmF2ohxvjDaRITBcDdW_lpTiro7ieYGU6A/s1600/DSCN0891_small..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiIFM62MXCGtmVAseXCseuy1j25CywoOTFMKjetbfSve3d8inY8cdavDjTEFTORd6G4SJarxwvBJGWqGr2QvTX3JjJLW8LgZnaB-LANWMXf8Z2e8egUwAMtTH7LHTWDtts_V3IbeDl9w/s1600/DSCN0902_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkiIFM62MXCGtmVAseXCseuy1j25CywoOTFMKjetbfSve3d8inY8cdavDjTEFTORd6G4SJarxwvBJGWqGr2QvTX3JjJLW8LgZnaB-LANWMXf8Z2e8egUwAMtTH7LHTWDtts_V3IbeDl9w/s400/DSCN0902_small.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4Kf4c9GS_wNgCKG0N9UlgpXeRx2DX3i6NjKJV2dxkFCvvU8oaGMBX8XVpb0FoL8UyoUK5q4IiDYM21qiPeTCQTVGhc43YM7vzHFH-_HoR7dU8E9VVvQgV9iVfK55XRd8zUPaoGb_w8Y/s1600/DSCN0903_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN4Kf4c9GS_wNgCKG0N9UlgpXeRx2DX3i6NjKJV2dxkFCvvU8oaGMBX8XVpb0FoL8UyoUK5q4IiDYM21qiPeTCQTVGhc43YM7vzHFH-_HoR7dU8E9VVvQgV9iVfK55XRd8zUPaoGb_w8Y/s400/DSCN0903_small.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br />
For some reason, you can't even ride your bounce & spin zebra like a docile child; preferring instead to climb upon its back and "trick-ride"- if you will - whilst standing. Your play has become more involved, too, and your mimicking more accurate. Mommy brought you a cheerleader puppet as a prize when daddy and I went to New York, and the first night we played with it, daddy was holding her up - pretending to talk to you in a lovely feminine voice. You studied him closely for a few minutes, then grabbed the doll by the back of the neck, held her up yourself and started yapping away in a totally different voice than your normal jabbering. I was amazed and quite proud, but it may or may not have been a little more maturity than I was ready for at 13 months. :)<br />
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On Halloween, Meme Kay and Bumpa brought you a giant orange punching balloon and spent maybe two minutes showing you how to use it. Since then you've been picking it up, wrapping it around your fingers and pounding away merrily like it's second nature.<br />
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And for your viewing pleasure... a little dance:<br />
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You stun me daily with the things you learn, and what you just assimilate. Though you still think brushing you teeth means sucking the toothpaste from the bristles, we're working on modeling that more correctly. You'll get it eventually. And daddy says it's ok for now, cause they're just 'practice teeth.' (hah. oh my goodness..)<br />
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And here are a few more Halloween pics just because you're so adorably precious:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76tKjmSwp70rqMqlbPggonYNYi_aOSd7LTGUDGCYuqlZVR7huoraZIO149omIJy4BAVoF1PWFNiN8uat9SbWtHSjnHCZ9_9HkNoYvSmq_nYk_K3_A3dh3oBYvE0dmkcpUUwynQTHH-LI/s1600/DSCN0955_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh76tKjmSwp70rqMqlbPggonYNYi_aOSd7LTGUDGCYuqlZVR7huoraZIO149omIJy4BAVoF1PWFNiN8uat9SbWtHSjnHCZ9_9HkNoYvSmq_nYk_K3_A3dh3oBYvE0dmkcpUUwynQTHH-LI/s400/DSCN0955_small.jpg" width="293" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;"> (Your actual Halloween Eve costume)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvszohmgiP_JC24QeuavBOR8RDN0mclrYAcldpxKS6zrvbo9Yoi2Uim3Q8jnrk2t2Vhk929xfXIKpVuaVe6cIN4WNzqns4rrk5Ylh6mG8HDqRk2KhApvOjaNeNuGqblzSNn96IgsLITY/s1600/DSCN0960_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvszohmgiP_JC24QeuavBOR8RDN0mclrYAcldpxKS6zrvbo9Yoi2Uim3Q8jnrk2t2Vhk929xfXIKpVuaVe6cIN4WNzqns4rrk5Ylh6mG8HDqRk2KhApvOjaNeNuGqblzSNn96IgsLITY/s400/DSCN0960_small.jpg" width="288" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqc1c36apFrP9AKTQQGe7XBgFMEBnc3ZA_VUj2q1AkAQ4glFbHqEZR_8H64YpT9LdtHugfwVpKb0pfLOEsp7iPQe53zkG7p5eqWY5ZhTzFUe1CvQ-z56Ii0F0IAafhZP5tO-gCPbigjNA/s1600/DSCN0969_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqc1c36apFrP9AKTQQGe7XBgFMEBnc3ZA_VUj2q1AkAQ4glFbHqEZR_8H64YpT9LdtHugfwVpKb0pfLOEsp7iPQe53zkG7p5eqWY5ZhTzFUe1CvQ-z56Ii0F0IAafhZP5tO-gCPbigjNA/s400/DSCN0969_small.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: #fff2cc;">(First lollipop ever... that I know about. Could not remove it from your hand until it broke apart and fell on the pavement).</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkma596tqVbR0ryqQBj1ISAb7DH-OeUGtsq8Xl3riR_K3rgvaLOtzV7WcnMJjEjic8ZSEpbw1vf-keM4SRvdm9fJc9dXGxh7hsybmshFNtXgNemHhJz5SMgZU25kSZiGSf2gymo3phcI/s1600/DSCN0931_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGkma596tqVbR0ryqQBj1ISAb7DH-OeUGtsq8Xl3riR_K3rgvaLOtzV7WcnMJjEjic8ZSEpbw1vf-keM4SRvdm9fJc9dXGxh7hsybmshFNtXgNemHhJz5SMgZU25kSZiGSf2gymo3phcI/s400/DSCN0931_small.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="color: #fff2cc;"> (Ok, so this isn't quite the smiley happy photo you were probably expecting, but seriously - look at those two faces and tell me there's no resemblance!)</span></div><br />
In case you didn't know, you are daddy's absolute pride and joy. I would say you're a daddy's girl, but it's more than an understatement. You have no idea how much daddy loves you. In fact, I think he's been waiting for you his whole life. The two of you romp and play, and you have the most special, sensational laugh that you reserve just for him. You were absolutely made for each other.<br />
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Speaking of which, you are going to meet someone <b>else</b> very special who was made for you in May(ish) of next year!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHLnJM0dGz_r9xioZtmlZMtyDAl-0nWG_ELoM5mze5aEBeTKYgstxZw2DfArzK4rCrl9u6Dg90LOc4mxAcLWzwpiNzBswBrPlwhr3SoiHAYKpMbG27NXRakZ5iIuaVzuUiIe1Me5P0LA/s1600/DSCN0878_small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHLnJM0dGz_r9xioZtmlZMtyDAl-0nWG_ELoM5mze5aEBeTKYgstxZw2DfArzK4rCrl9u6Dg90LOc4mxAcLWzwpiNzBswBrPlwhr3SoiHAYKpMbG27NXRakZ5iIuaVzuUiIe1Me5P0LA/s400/DSCN0878_small.jpg" width="350" /></a></div><br />
I have utmost faith that you'll be a wonderful big sister (amidst the squeezing and smacking that is sure to occur), but what I really want you to know is that you were a big part of the reason we decided to have another baby. True, we'd always talked about having kids close together because of the bond near siblings can share. But mostly, mommy and daddy adore you to pieces and consider you the most wonderful blessing we've ever received. Our enormous love for you somehow made our hearts grow bigger and brought us to the conclusion that another baby like you would bring double the joy! Amazingly, God saw fit to grant this wish quickly, and has entrusted us to grow and raise another one of His children. It truly overwhelms me to know His grace. And you are going to love having a little.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4qn75-0LwmNunDIW1cJziwAgbV4Dg8N9afEzkKUsSbuZjTpieR9PcrzVmzkOQkhgAT1T_oEePv36GUZ5GOHMNNBEJa-jKq5PBs4owApBrMQ2N9ls11WjXQrgmXu1qb4Goz4-nMjLknsY/s1600/ry=480-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4qn75-0LwmNunDIW1cJziwAgbV4Dg8N9afEzkKUsSbuZjTpieR9PcrzVmzkOQkhgAT1T_oEePv36GUZ5GOHMNNBEJa-jKq5PBs4owApBrMQ2N9ls11WjXQrgmXu1qb4Goz4-nMjLknsY/s400/ry=480-2.jpeg" width="247" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">(See? You're already overjoyed ;) </span></div><br />
Preg2 Update:<br />
Mommy is happy she can still fit into a few pairs of pre-maternity jeans, but that will be short-lived. Baby b (you're a; this one's b) is starting to grow and taking me with it! My apologies if I've simply not had the gumption to update your blog lately, but growing a tiny human is somewhat exhausting. And perhaps the thought of keeping this up for two of you is a bit wearying in and of itself.. <br />
<br />
Amazingly, though I've definitely been tired and less-than-energetic, it's not as bad as last time when mommy took naps at least twice a week in the first trimester. This is either because my body is adapting and saying "hey, we've done it before; we can totally handle this," or because there just isn't nearly as much opportunity to be tired with a little Action Ansley scampering about this time around. :) Same thing with the smell sensitivity, since I'm positive that at this point last time I was doubling over with a whiff of meat or garlic. This time? Meat: good. Garlic: goood. What's not to like? </div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-8436820750353086262010-10-05T13:34:00.000-07:002010-10-05T13:34:55.118-07:00Dear John<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><div style="font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wanted to do something different today in honor of daddy's birthday, so I wrote the following for him:</span></span></div></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span><div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">like that you type with your fingers on the right keys; that you care whether or not your clothes match and when you do your "fun hair" on the weekends.</span></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span>I love that you give me a real hug when you get home from work and how you get Ansley in the morning sometimes when I'm too tired to wake up. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you say you love me 20 times a day, and that every time you mean it. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you've wanted a family since college, and that it's totally obvious when I see you with Ansley. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love how excited you were to finally get a truck so you can do "man things" and get dirty (but that you feel the need to clean it immediately when that dirt shows up). </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that even though you detest normal shopping, you have fun buying toys and kid stuff. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you can cook, and that you don't have to follow the recipe (sometimes ;). </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that we somehow always end up matching even though we claim not to try, and that you actually know how to iron a shirt and don't make me do it. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you always want to ride with the windows down-even if it messes up my hair, and I love that you automatically assume the driving position when we go somewhere together. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you're just as happy to spend time with the fam as you are to have a guys' night, that you "get sucked in" to my shows, and that you get so much joy from playing with A. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you still call me beautiful and that you get mad when I dismiss it. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that even when you dream-cheat on me, you feel bad about it (haha sorry about that). </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you go through your mail with an actual letter opener, that you have files for property, and that your favorite games involve money and real estate (dork ;)</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you look good in a suit. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like how you call margaritas "marg"s, that you get overly-emotional and cry at the movies (Toy Story 3…), and that you have an abnormally strong gag reflex—even though it requires that I handle the particularly saturated diaper-changing occasions.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that your dancing repertoire includes the James Brown and random handstands, and that neither of those require much liquid courage before they're unleashed.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you think date nights are just as important as I do.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you are genuinely touched by peoples' kindness and faith, and that you're constantly striving to give more of yourself. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like that you are just as awed by your love for Ansley as I am. </span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I love that you're my lobster, my penguin, and my other half; and that this list doesn't even cover half of what I love about you.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy 33rd!</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">J.A.M.</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">-McKenzie</span></span></div></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-91160209552469627752010-09-23T08:23:00.000-07:002010-09-23T11:39:09.679-07:00Day-to-Day A<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">{13 months - and a pinch}</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">August was a really busy month for us, what with the 4 birthdays in 1 1/2 weeks at the end of it. We celebrated your "first" with almost all of your aunts and uncles, and of course all the g-rents. It was a big turnout for such a little girl (I cannot explain to you how lucky you are little one), and though you were a bit timid at first, you warmed up quickly and walked around surveying the partygoers much of the time. I don't think you were too crazy about the cake on your hands (or maybe it was the 30 people watching you expectantly and blinding you with pictures ;) but you were a good sport and rubbed an adequate amount of chocolate frosting on your face for our amusement. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo34pnTMeZj-O4h5GtePgemuANecUXp1hr-YwkD_xXY30gAGw_qX4NPeUgTie8l98GhmUosNxgru-f9GaaVJKEZFmlZkWXpILLDvPG3dKjd3pSyWMM7Aps9gmTCXRbPhlhz51gphClNAg/s1600/-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo34pnTMeZj-O4h5GtePgemuANecUXp1hr-YwkD_xXY30gAGw_qX4NPeUgTie8l98GhmUosNxgru-f9GaaVJKEZFmlZkWXpILLDvPG3dKjd3pSyWMM7Aps9gmTCXRbPhlhz51gphClNAg/s400/-3.jpg" width="262" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You also racked up on the presents, and since mommy still feels bad about not getting around to those thank-you notes in time, I hope everyone will forgive me and accept a blanket thank you SO MUCH for the heaps of adorable clothes, toys, bibs, frames and books they all brought. We are so grateful just to have those amazing people in our lives; gifts are above and beyond. [Basically, your friends and family rock].</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC0IeTI3caGlNO6NpG_UQfOu_NhkD-2Rvn424tTDs1eGRUHyuJ8eeT_1rX1KK40MzTdlP3EYHAXtf9DVJm4uOvWQm0yfV47ye2DBLrCiUS9facLsCred0MU9wx-KVIUgpqYaXUh5ga2kQ/s1600/-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDne63d5OA0jzgtaofsZbr-4ckBAwAX-67Y2J1OzKQNKaSqPA9xb5dzBV0HL91HdKEfPOjIPJ5tyfJtS-niQSxfOBw8SMEuYFwqnhjGd7ljrrtejfMIz_rVp3nN6vfletOgwk9g_M30uA/s1600/-2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDne63d5OA0jzgtaofsZbr-4ckBAwAX-67Y2J1OzKQNKaSqPA9xb5dzBV0HL91HdKEfPOjIPJ5tyfJtS-niQSxfOBw8SMEuYFwqnhjGd7ljrrtejfMIz_rVp3nN6vfletOgwk9g_M30uA/s400/-2.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mommy had an insignificant number birthday (alright it was the big 3-0) at the end of August, for which daddy got us tickets to New York. It was the first time we'd left you for more than a day/night (wow can you believe we spent a year by your side? ;) and we were nervous as all get out. But the grandparents picked up our slack, had a blast keeping you occupied and helped you forget about mommy and daddy for a few days. We were busy in The City, but missed you terribly and kept our phones handy for quick photo-fixes of your cuteness. Somehow, we made it through. But boy were we happy to see you!!! Guess that separation anxiety works both ways...</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My favorite thing about you now at just over one year is that you're all of a sudden incredibly eager to sit in my lap. I just find it so endearing that you actually make it a point to run over with toy or (wonder of wonders) book in hand, turn around and plop down for me to play with or read to you. The deliberateness is utterly charming. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PjRzbq7W91eZeUPSHLPDPklJ5zDyBI5niv1RuxNiWBEjUFcK2J5FRkyG0MXcW3i5Smh_AFrNvdZbHLXmv66PcinnxerrrAPI3hqVjKo8M6tsGPqtBLj3ZRAJMqgzVVdInBouh8JtHS8/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PjRzbq7W91eZeUPSHLPDPklJ5zDyBI5niv1RuxNiWBEjUFcK2J5FRkyG0MXcW3i5Smh_AFrNvdZbHLXmv66PcinnxerrrAPI3hqVjKo8M6tsGPqtBLj3ZRAJMqgzVVdInBouh8JtHS8/s400/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">(laying in Bo's "lap")</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Perhaps because of this lap-sitting impulse, your interest in books has skyrocketed (cue chorus of angels). You LOVE (and by love I mean are obsessed with) "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?" We play it on a loop, with you turning the pages faster than I can repeat the rhythmic refrain. <br />
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Mia recently revealed to me that you have also been practicing your fake smile (or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2joUFlCdPE">"Chandler smile,"</a> as I like to call it). Apparently, it's a give and take thing. Mia does the fake smile and you flash one in return. I've only seen it in her presence, but it's wonderfully silly. You're such a goofball. <br />
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You and daddy have also started a tradition of waking up early on Saturday (and thus, blessedly giving mommy an extra hour or two of sleep) to visit granny, grandpa and pa pa. The weather has been beautiful as of late, so your preferred method of transportation to these playdates is the green plastic car mommy found at consignment. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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You basically just get to run around, eat and soak up the attention on these visits, so I know you must thoroughly enjoy it. But I think your grands enjoy it just as much. :)<br />
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Sadly, we had a run-in with your first ear infection over Labor Day weekend. But to get past a year without one is doing pretty dern good, so mommy won't complain too much. The worst part was seeing you all pitiful and in pain and not being able to help. Not surprisingly, you loved the bubble-gum-flavored amoxicillin. <br />
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Let's see, what else is going on in your world? You are:<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></div><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Downing food like a champ, though you still refuse milk that is not optimally heated. This is a problem. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Breaking my heart with the separation anxiety. When I take you to school and you literally scream as I tear myself away, I have to force-plaster the "reassuring smile" on my face. It does not help. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Enamored with your daddy. Apparently tickle-fights and chasing are your weaknesses. </li>
</ul><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ImxMuurC7cE?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ImxMuurC7cE?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Becoming a philanthropist. Clearly you must think the dogs are starving and have no food to eat that does not come from the floor, because you've taken to tossing pieces overboard during mealtimes (both when we are and are not looking). The dogs love you. </li>
</ul><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(Wait... have you been bribing Bo this whole time??!?!!)</span><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Not a fan of eating out. I realize this is probably because it necessitates you being strapped to a chair and not running around like an escaped monkey, but <b>dude</b>. It doesn't matter what toy, cup, utensil or person we try to bribe you with: you will tolerate only a set amount of time in the chair and no more. Apologies to any innocent patrons who've witnessed "the breaking point." It's not pretty. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Conversely, loving the outdoors and anywhere you can explore without bounds. Since we don't yet have two baby gates, this includes the stairs and has required a hasty lesson in proper descent and stair dismount. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Well on your way to a full set of teeth. 4 on top, 4 on bottom, and molars starting to come in. I do wish they'd hurry up and get here already and stop hurting your poor little mouth, but you're so sweet and don't complain about the pain. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Very interested in daddy's hair. Though you've become more tolerant of accessories in your own curly tresses, it's the banker coif you most enjoy petting and rubbing against your face these days (a la soft doggy fur?). Not sure why, since it's most certainly gelled in place and can't really have the silken touch you're so fond of, but oh well. It's cute. Plus, when daddy bends down to let you pat his head, you lean against him and then move your face from side to side for some Eskimo kisses. Precious. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Miss independent. You seize the toothbrush from my clutch when brushing your teeth, force me to relinquish the spoon mid-scoop and insist on carrying everything yourself (including the wondrously overstuffed "round dog," who is almost your height and four times as wide). I love it. </li>
</ul><ul style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><li>Happy, smiley, full of life, and pretty much the perfect one year old!! You are so beautiful and such a blessing, it's almost hard to believe you're mine. It's like sometimes I can see God's light shining through you and beaming right out at me, and I'm amazed my heart doesn't just burst from the sheer magnitude of my love for you.</li>
</ul><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You were even such a trooper at your one-year photo shoot that you managed to smile through the pain of an earache and teething and let <a href="http://www.lindseyturnerphotography.com/">Lindsey</a> capture some pretty shots. What a good girl you are. :)</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Helvetica;">So when daddy ceremoniously announced he was "taking you to the potty," marched you over to the guest bathroom, depantsed your tiny self and <b>HELD YOU OVER THE PORCELAIN POT EXPECTING SOME ACTION</b>, I doubled over in hysterics/horror/disbelief.<br />
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</div><div>THEN, after waiting 2.5 seconds and declaring a failure, daddy thought it cute to let you fly out of the bathroom half-nakey (the bottom half, natch) and into the den. As he called for mommy to check out the show, I turned my head just in time to catch my little Action Ansley stop mid-run, assume the position... and pee a delicate five-second stream of tinkle on our freshly-cleaned carpet.<br />
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I handed the paper towels over to your darling daddy and said "you know this is totally going in my blog."</div><div><br />
<div style="color: #fff2cc;">*Disclaimer: In the interest of fairness—according to Granny Mac's recollection, baby Jonathan was potty-trained at the age of 7 months. So I'm sorry if daddy has some unrealistic expectations for you munchkin. He was apparently a wee pee prodigy. Or it could've just been the M&Ms...</div></div></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-15238462123929833382010-08-19T13:37:00.001-07:002010-08-20T15:06:16.261-07:001-derful You!<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So I've <b>finally</b> finished retroposting, and we now have entries beginning shortly after we found out we were having a baby (yay!). Most of the preggo pieces are not Ansley-directed anyway, but I wanted to go ahead and get them up so I could actually feel like we started in the right place. But since Ansley is pretty much the most entertaining and interesting part of our lives, it's still all about her [see below].</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I cannot believe how quickly the past year has gone by and how much you've grown and conquered and what a mini-person you are! This time last year, mommy was putting the finishing touches on the nursery and swelling with pride (and fluids) at your imminent arrival. And now you're about to turn one; run-tottering toward me with arms outstretched and a huge toothy grin. Believe me, munchkin, I have never been more proud of anything in my life. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. (You and your daddy, of course ;) </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwfMN2tAcV9t78WSiaOO319kjy03USOMVeYdOe9KpOje8Hd6P2jFp32OEjaJ5KmOGxKiA5ZCtE83Ui0atXY_Un9H4z28t5f2oYZg-tgWebonbUz3dZUgiWiYPtVn_qSrjDpb8jPqH3G0/s1600/ry=400-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwfMN2tAcV9t78WSiaOO319kjy03USOMVeYdOe9KpOje8Hd6P2jFp32OEjaJ5KmOGxKiA5ZCtE83Ui0atXY_Un9H4z28t5f2oYZg-tgWebonbUz3dZUgiWiYPtVn_qSrjDpb8jPqH3G0/s400/ry=400-2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Though it pains us to see (only because it happened so fast), you're walking around all "no big deal" now. I can barely catch you on camera.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtyyOefKwMstidasYaYUqR6b2IjhAdckKA9SA82kmVr6tBB6Yyptq0rk74sJI56tvNplmiJmxr9LpQTYMMsFMmoJiX5Z4z49h7L4HogeDf63Q_7q4TSXAiHYTztPj0NCeUH2Am0zjrxU/s1600/ry=400-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOtyyOefKwMstidasYaYUqR6b2IjhAdckKA9SA82kmVr6tBB6Yyptq0rk74sJI56tvNplmiJmxr9LpQTYMMsFMmoJiX5Z4z49h7L4HogeDf63Q_7q4TSXAiHYTztPj0NCeUH2Am0zjrxU/s400/ry=400-4.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;">"What? Pshhh, I came out walking." </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My favorite time is when you're getting sleepy and you stumble around looking intoxicated and losing your balance. You are constantly trying to pick things up and walk with them (even things that are supposed to roll and/or support you), which gets significantly more difficult when you're sleep-wasted. And for some reason, tiredness also makes you think you can lift items that are 3 times your size. Which you can't. But it's cute to watch you try. ;)</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We send you off to school sporting shoes every day now, since I think you forgot how to sit still. For some reason, you find it incredibly hilarious that this produces 'stinky feets.' Like, <b>for real</b>. When we catch a whiff and reel back in (semi-)mock disgust, you giggle like you totally did it on purpose. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Your personality is starting to emerge in little pieces. You imitate and respond to us more often when we ask now, giving kisses and pointing out your parts (specifically head, nose, tongue; with varying accuracy).<br />
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Apparently, you entertain everyone at daycare with impromptu bouts of interpretive dance (quite possibly a contributing factor to the stinky feet syndrome). But mommy does love that you're now old enough to perform So-You-Think-You-Can-Dance-esque lifts and flips. We try them out in the playroom when daddy's not around to get any ideas... (just kidding daddy!)</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You have recently begun to scream erratically, often when frustrated (like a high-pitched siren-style scary movie scream that we're hoping will die down once we learn to communicate a little more efficiently), and I think you're going to be a bit of a daredevil. You absolutely love to be surprised/mildly scared. We play hide and seek and "I'm gonna get you!" like they're going out of style. You get a big kick out of running away and then turning back to make sure you're being thoroughly chased. </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You're beginning to show interest in books, if only the continuous opening and closing of them. We still read to you.. well, let's be honest... at you. Sometimes you're just tired enough to let us finish a whole story. So clearly you won't be smart. But at least you're pretty. ;) Just kidding I'm sure you'll be smart too. And if you're not supersmart, you'll definitely be an athlete, as evidenced by your 'Action Ansley' running, climbing, dancing and tumbling skills. And intense practice of said skills.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since you usually only let us read whilst you are otherwise occupied, mommy will occasionally just pick up a book and simulate storytime (in vain hopes that you'll suddenly take to it). Last week when I got to a passage about mischievous monkeys, I made the "oooo-ooo-oo-aah-aah" sound and you dropped down to all fours and began jamming out as though headbanging. Totally ignored the rest of the book, but you must really like those monkeys...</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After a little coaxing and several unsuccessful attempts, you've even grown to enjoy the tree swing handydad hung for you last month. Though mommy is much more cautious and tends to remove you from a situation if you don't seem to like something, daddy's philosophy is "try it until she likes it." Surprisingly, this makes for a good balance. If we don't confuse the crud out of you.<br />
<br />
<br />
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You now randomly approach Bo and envelop him in sweet hugs, which is the most adorable thing ever. But Hannahbelle is beginning to catch your attention, too, and you find it comical to play the "I'm gonna get you" game with her. Except you like to be the chaser. Although Hannah is very good at evading capture, she pauses to let you think you have a chance and makes you laugh when she feverishly spins her wheels and takes off again. You also enjoy tempting one or both of the dogs with whatever puff, pretzel or cracker you have in your hand and then swiftly revoking it like "Oh here do you want some? Syke. This is mine, dogg."</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Your favorite field trip to date is Emerald Pointe. Or as we like to call it "the giant bath tub you get to stand up and walk around in." You aren't so much into splashing, but you frolick and float as if you and water are BFFs. The first time we went, you rode the cyclone and almost instantaneously zonked out. As it was church youth day and there were no free chairs to be had, mommy and daddy took turns holding you up in the kiddie pool. I'm sure it was quite humorous to passersby to see a baby in a lifejacket all passed out and suspended in the water, but you float-slumbered for a good hour, powered up and were ready for round two of bath/playtime.<br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Though I'm sure you could care less what you're wearing, mommy likes to pretend you're her life-size doll and dress you up in at least two outfits per day. Since your current wardrobe rivals that of Mariah Carey, this is not hard—except that you hate the process of getting dressed. And forget putting a bow in your hair. If you spy or feel its presence, it must die (or be yanked out at once). Apparently ribbons are generally offensive, since you also try to pull them from other peoples' hair.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLizUzNI5l-pVTnl9WvIU1VFJPJ8jJbyEyIBwwqOHipKYtEloMKgTvJxW4i64kqlUMA8eQ33gqn_TV2CZKM7pdBjlfAD2ZFaFHWk2G5KEnSj39z-QnWbbI2hpm94C2sA8QaIUUcrMkJPc/s1600/ry=400-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLizUzNI5l-pVTnl9WvIU1VFJPJ8jJbyEyIBwwqOHipKYtEloMKgTvJxW4i64kqlUMA8eQ33gqn_TV2CZKM7pdBjlfAD2ZFaFHWk2G5KEnSj39z-QnWbbI2hpm94C2sA8QaIUUcrMkJPc/s400/ry=400-3.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">(just before you caught wind of that evil hairbow...)</span><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You're still teething like crazy, and were actually out of school right after you turned 11 months for the fever that accompanied the teething. Which is no small wonder because you were getting four new teeth at the same time. You have since popped two more, for a total of eight (four top and four bottom). Since you absolutely love the taste of Tylenol, we survived. Barely.</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In other happenings:</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Another one of your future crushes, Cooper Samuel Morrison, was born on July 13th! <br />
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</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_ml234RAeigkbdM6MsgnWeExceI2iuJOa_UDZ0eS5coNoIn9JS8t_nO0s-OP5PyauUhRsF7QoQc1y1wbFeRz9Y3fiaQR58wMRS57QMvnC55CgaGJZKonB2xKoGe-1EH0zmFZdkmiTqg/s1600/ry=400-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_ml234RAeigkbdM6MsgnWeExceI2iuJOa_UDZ0eS5coNoIn9JS8t_nO0s-OP5PyauUhRsF7QoQc1y1wbFeRz9Y3fiaQR58wMRS57QMvnC55CgaGJZKonB2xKoGe-1EH0zmFZdkmiTqg/s400/ry=400-1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Isn't he just so precious you want to snuggle him for hours? Well too bad; you probably won't be allowed to date him either. (Just kidding). Maybe his G.I. Joes and your Barbies can ask your dads if it's ok and then date. ;) </div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Ah who knows if or which any of you munchkins will end up together. But as Aunt Jaclyn <a href="http://jaclynbjohnson.blogspot.com/2010/08/way-back-when-esday_18.html">pointed out</a>, you and Jake may be destined to become "future power couple Jakesley."<br />
<br />
And if you don't, Jake will always protect you.<br />
Just like he does his big sister:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #fff2cc;">(by screaming profusely at the offending party)</span></div><br />
</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-12394991204275638662010-07-08T14:38:00.000-07:002010-07-16T15:23:07.206-07:00Step it Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjRtGnAvCYEyJrZ4XQ-cvkXYyXDjMgi7k31q3KD6CCSvzJFdyL-HsKj8ONxDsIIyil9d3nRmyltUfvspMZ-C0RDxwZN0dLqOI2ez-xlcDmYZBSSSf6OzjXGPL0ONV829ZTyHqD8mJ-qY/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfjRtGnAvCYEyJrZ4XQ-cvkXYyXDjMgi7k31q3KD6CCSvzJFdyL-HsKj8ONxDsIIyil9d3nRmyltUfvspMZ-C0RDxwZN0dLqOI2ez-xlcDmYZBSSSf6OzjXGPL0ONV829ZTyHqD8mJ-qY/s400/photo.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(Ansley in her patriotic best; courtesy of "cousin" Brooklyn!)</span></div><br />
So the other morning mommy was stunned awake with a sudden splash of cold water on my face and neck. I shot up at the speed of light (so fast are my ninja-like reflexes), ready to repay the culprit with a few choice adult words. Though I wouldn't have put it past daddy to pull that prank just for laughs, deep down I knew better. I turned slowly around to meet your grinning mug, and the animosity vanished more quickly than the amount of time it had taken to erupt. I swear that smile is like sunshine. I can't even be mad at you when you dump half a bottle of water on my head! Might as well call the <a href="http://abc.go.com/shows/supernanny">SuperNanny</a> now... <br />
<br />
Of course, daddy was not beyond reproach, but all he could offer was "I didn't know the cap was gone!" amidst raucous laughter. I'm not sure I totally buy that..<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(I mean isn't that just the best little belly laugh?!)</span></div><br />
Your current favorite game is dropping stuff and getting us to pick it up. If we don't, you lean over and try to retrieve it yourself (whilst endangering your life). This is only fun for one of the parties involved. <br />
<br />
You also love to practice baby gymnastics with daddy. You're especially great at the back flip over his knees to the floor maneuver. You like to do it until you're too dizzy to get back up. Mommy doesn't usually let it get to that point. (I know, I'm such a buzzkill). <br />
<br />
Interestingly, daddy has begun training you like a dog. When you get too close to a hazardous item or situation, he yells "AH-AH-AH" loudly in warning. Yesterday, when he wouldn't allow you to examine his tool bag, you turned around, stared angrily into his eyes, and yelled back. When he repeated (AH-AH), so did you. It went on like this, tit for tat, for several more rounds. Mommy felt like she was in the middle of a jungle monkey standoff. Amazingly, you never touched the tools. But you were not happy about it..<br />
<br />
You've begun imitating certain other things we do, too. When daddy picks you up, gives you a hug and pats your back, you pat him right back. (The cuteness meter on that one is off the charts). <br />
<br />
Also of note, you have discovered your nose, and for some reason find it necessary to stick your finger up there as often as possible. This recently resulted in the picking of your very first boogie, which daddy called mommy over to see and then expeditiously wiped on her arm. Blegh!<br />
<br />
Bo is still your dog of choice, and you've started calling him by name. In fact, you've started calling lots of things "Bo-Bo"s (or just "Bo"). I did notice they were trying to teach you "ball" at school, so it may be a combination of that and your love for Mr. Bojangles.<br />
<br />
You enjoy feeding yourself, too, and have started refusing to return the spoon if you get ahold of it. Since you try to swipe it the entire time, it's pretty much impossible to feed you anyhow. You can imagine the amount of food that does <b>not</b> land in your mouth. I'm sure you prefer finger-foods, but dangit the pureed stuff is so much easier! If I manage to get anything in from said spoon, you regurgitate it postehaste and catch it, then examine the texture on your fingers. Disgusting. We are seriously going to have to work on those table manners young lady..<br />
<br />
You've taken to compulsive waving as well, and will whip out this little floppy-wristed salutation on cue (when we say "hi" or "bye"). Strangers find it adorable, which just encourages you further. :) I'm pretty sure the hi wave and a few hand/footprint art projects are what we have to show for the obscene amount of money we pay to your daycare. Glad to see it's paying off. Just kidding I know it's worth it. They actually seem pretty buttoned up there, and have you drinking from a sippy cup, signing for "hungry" and "more," and dragging your own sleep mat to the floor when you're tired. We've yet to replicate any of those at home. (You've trained us well, young Anslikin). <br />
<br />
Oh yeah, and when Granny picked you up from daycare last week, they told her<br />
"She walked 5 steps today!"<br />
Um, excuse me? I thought they weren't supposed to tell us that so that we think we're the first ones to see you walking!! I mean you've been standing expertly and practicing the wobble-step wobble-step fall with great persistence, but we've yet to see more than a few strides. Let's step it up at home, precious. (Kidding, kidding). Actually, it is most adorable to watch you walk around [barely] holding onto daddy's hand. If it were up to him, you would never let go. <br />
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Exhibit A:<br />
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I know I shouldn't be too anxious; you'll be running away from me in no time. </div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-5764278274435999082010-06-18T08:56:00.000-07:002010-06-22T11:11:29.632-07:00Separationally-Challenged<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Daddy is still resistant to your growth. I mean I'd like to keep you a baby as long as possible, but am aware that at some point, Peter Pan, everyone has to grow up. So I said to your (normally intelligent, fairly rational) father "I mean I'd like her to stay little too, but what what do you want to do, block her development?" His answer was a firm and immediate "</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">yes</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">." Okaaaaay...</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then as we prepared you for bed, he tells me "I love that I can just tap her on the bottom randomly and it's not weird because I'm her dad." He is so going to purposefully embarrass you when you get older. Can't wait for that. ;)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Speaking of love taps, you (little miss bright eyes) have been contracting quite the attitude lately. Mia says it's because you're so intelligent that you're reading us and trying to figure out how to get what you want. I just think you get frustrated and don't know how else to communicate. But honestly, there are times when you </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">freak </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the h </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">out</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. The most notable example stems from your recent love-affair with Bo. Though he remains wary of your tiny presence, Bo has grown more tolerant as of late. He graciously allows you to pat, climb, pull and mouth him with as much zeal as your little body can possibly possess. You love to play the "mess with Bo until he lumbers off and then chase him to another location and repeat" game. I'm not sure Bo knows you're playing. If we at any point interrupt this bonding (by picking you up), you thrash and whine and twist about as though set on fire. I would think you were in pain if I didn't know better. Current tactics to disarm this bomb include distracting you with whatever toy or person is available, removing you from the room/situation, and bribing you with food. Just kidding about the last one. Taking you away seems to help, but it's tough. It's crazy to me that we're having to deal with this already. Aren't you supposed to stay a baby a little longer? I may be starting to see daddy's point of view on this whole not growing up thing...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pp7ZVWZk7Nc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pp7ZVWZk7Nc&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe with our own stubborn selves, we should have known you'd be strong-willed. But if this is your first challenge, bring it on. We will nip it in the bud, my little diva. A battle of wills. 'Cause you know what princess? We can out-stubborn you. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sorry to do it and you may hate me for it sometimes, but you can't always get what you want. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you cry sometimes, though, you might find you get what you need.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">... </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(I'm joking. We will always try to meet your needs. That's what parents are for.)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The other side of this strange, misshapen parenting coin is that you've also been experiencing bouts of separation anxiety. You have a few favorite people in the world and everyone else is just scenery. Scenery that does </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">not</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> hold the baby...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The preference tier is as follows:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1. Mia</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2. Daddy / Bo</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3. Miss Alecia and/or Miss Nevona</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4. Mommy</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5. Granny</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">etc. (you get the picture)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For one reason or another, Mia is the absolute apple of your eye. To you, no one is more glorious and deserving of your love than your Mia Sally. Well, daddy might run a close second; but if your beloved Mia is around, you only have eyes for her! We discovered this during our week at the beach when you would cry for Mia if mommy took you and reach upside-down-backwards in search of her embrace. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And hey, where's the "I don't love one parent more than the other; I love them both equally" filter, kid? Aren't you supposed to be born with that? At times when daddy hands you off and I want nothing more than a hug or snuggle, you scream bloody murder (and a pathetic "dadada" on a loop) to return to your fave. I'm sure this makes daddy feel good, but I have to secretly squelch the tears because admitting it hurts my feelings is ludicrous. You don't mean anything by it, I know. But I want so badly for you to love me. I mean I'm sure you do, but I'm emotionally high-maintenance and need the reassurance. Blessedly, daddy and Mia understand and give mommy extra hugs for support. And daddy had a wonderful suggestion of greeting one another before we greet you. That way we can show you the correct hierarchy. It's mommy and daddy; <i>then</i> you. I think the theme here is "this is our world, and we're fitting you in."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And now (since I've mainly written about your noncompliance so far and am feeling a tad guilty because it's really such a small part of your world), I'd like to share some of the things I love about you at almost 10 months(!):</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When you pull up on something and then turn around and wobble a step or two towards me I get so excited (but then I realize that walking = toddler and you're not my little baby anymore, and it makes me less anxious... ). Daddy's probably thinking of any way possible to </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">keep</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> you from taking those steps, but I'm afraid it's imminent.</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're eating everything (thank daddy for that) with your pinschers, which is basically the most adorable way I can think of to get your dietary allowance. We like to lay it out on the tray and let you go for the gold. Puffs and breadcrumbs turn up just about everywhere, but I'm sure some of it actually lands in your mouth... The most recent of daddy's ill-conceived food tasting choices? Dorito cheese straight from the finger. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Am I on television?</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you happen to be sleeping and wake up to a face you love (see list above), you burst into that shining smile and start waving hello. That floppy little gesture just melts me to pieces.</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Evidently, you can now produce dog sounds. Miss Nevona shared with me today that you have the "ruff ruff ruff" down pat. You are becoming quite proficient in jibberish as well. I bet you and Bo have secret conversations..</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Often when we play, you create your own obstacle course just so it will require you to climb over us and back again. You particularly enjoy shimmying monkey-style up daddy's chest while he's sideways and rolling over to his back. Gymnast? Maybe. Daredevil? Clearly. I'll start practicing the fastest routes to the hospital.</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At daycare, you have a sleep mat (on account of the pulling up in your crib thing). Daddy and I find it impossible to buy that you actually fall asleep there and stay still, but your teachers insist. When daddy picked you up yesterday, they divulged that you were so ready to nap at 2:30, you voluntarily dragged yourself over and laid down on your mat without prompting. Aw!</span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You're loving water (aside from the ocean waves, but they scare me too so we're not counting that). Daddy waded with you at Aunt Jennifer's 30th birthday Tie-Dye and pool party, which was your first time in a big girl pool. You do have precisely 9 bathing suits—several of which are bikinis that may or may not be wildly inappropriate for a baby—so I certainly hope you continue this water infatuation. I'll put some beach pictures up asap. :) </span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><object align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab" height="425" id="Slideshow" name="Slideshow" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf" /><param name="flashvars" value="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D8AZNnLFwzbuGJE" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><embed id="Slideshow" width="425" height="425" name="Slideshow" align="middle" quality="high" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" flashvars="configurl=http%3A%2F%2Fws.shutterfly.com%2Fshare%2Fexternal_slideshow_config%3Fsid%3D8AZNnLFwzbuGJE" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" bgcolor="#869ca7" src="http://www.shutterfly.com/flashapps/flashslideshow/Slideshow.swf"></embed></object><div style="margin-top: 0; text-align: center; width: 425px;"><a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AZNnLFwzbuGJE&eid=118">Click here to view these pictures larger</a></div></span></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You also have a preference for water from a plastic bottle (sadly, I am not kidding—but I think it's because you find it necessary to envelop the opening while drinking). If it's not in the bottle, a straw will do the trick. And despite daddy's major sippy-cup resistance, he is happy to teach you to use a real cup. Observe:</span></li>
</ul><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/iRaLn7AxfnA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/iRaLn7AxfnA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></span></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You dance. Not that I'm shocked in any way, considering the 2 bachelorette parties, 2 weddings, numerous dance dance revolution battles and countless super baby dance parties of your "youth." And you love music. Granny contends that country is your fave. Traitor. You <b>are</b> my baby, right? I'm hoping to catch you on daddy's phone because corroboration exists only on the camcorder at this juncture. But it is too too cute. </span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XQcVllWpwGs&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XQcVllWpwGs&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">No, you're not in that video, but I'm just sayin'.. I won't be surprised if they contact you for the next one.</span></span><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In other news, Aunt Jennifer and Uncle Jay recently welcomed your future crush, Graham Nance Weaver, just over a week early on June 9th. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bTeDxKWJJyTjVYOTQnzfwTmdN1gtwzbl7C2a5aYCiNWLSq92Wb_d_nh0kalVTERZn0nOisYvm_SJDirQI-OV0eBZVwKsBAe2spJSUd1OwkZktbepGk1hmnAJPnSYEFnr0EROqW6W1zo/s1600/32494_402985953527_608983527_4489771_3917581_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3bTeDxKWJJyTjVYOTQnzfwTmdN1gtwzbl7C2a5aYCiNWLSq92Wb_d_nh0kalVTERZn0nOisYvm_SJDirQI-OV0eBZVwKsBAe2spJSUd1OwkZktbepGk1hmnAJPnSYEFnr0EROqW6W1zo/s400/32494_402985953527_608983527_4489771_3917581_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">Isn't he great at his job? (sleeping)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He is as little, beautiful, and sweet as can be, and I have to apologize in advance that you will not be allowed to date him, as apparently this would be awkward for your father and Uncle Jay. (You can take it up with them). But I'm sure you'll be great friends and you can show him all sorts of good stuff like how to fling pacis and eat sand. Jake still has your heart for the time being anyway.* ;) </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">*I really am joking about these things. But it's only because I so want you to bond with your non-related cousins. I know you're all very popular in your own circles, but mommy and your aunts are kinda close. So if you wouldn't mind humoring us, playing with one another and at least trying to be pals, we'd greatly appreciate it. And I bet you'll have some great stories when you're older (you know, when you're all about to graduate from UNC).</span></div><div><br />
</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-67230879912567496052010-06-16T09:20:00.000-07:002010-06-16T09:20:00.122-07:00You Got Swag<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, Jon bought a truck. Though I stood vehemently opposed to such a thing; preferring SUV over truck 10-to-1 (you know, for family vacations? transporting things in a covered area? extra seating?), I'm swallowing my pride and admitting that - ok - as far as trucks go... it's really nice. I will even admit to thoroughly enjoying the power of sitting high above all the toy cars and jamming out to my ipod while driving said truck. Since I'd always conceded that it was Jon's new vehicle and his decision, I didn't exactly have much sway in the matter anyway (though obviously it didn't stop me from voicing my opinion...). My sole caveat was that there be enough space to comfortably fit a car seat. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, Jon has his dream vehicle (the first new car he's ever owned), Ansley fits (regardless of the fact that I will at some point do a face plant attempting to hoist her high enough to clear its massive frame), and my husband feels like a man. In the words of a wise girlfriend "every man needs a truck." Ok, I get it.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you may be wondering, but what about the minivan/swaggerwagon? Why not consider that other sweet ride? It's true that if our family is blessed to multiply much further, we may start feeling the need for an even larger mode of transportation. But the van I will resist with much more fervor than the truck. Not because it isn't nice (and seriously, nothing against anyone who has one because they are truly the cadillac of child-transportation instruments), but because I have always wanted an SUV. Perhaps with a little luck, we'll manage to skip the van stage. But I have to say, it is kind of hard to resist with ads like this:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0A1n18oL5QA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0A1n18oL5QA&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If Jon and I were in a commercial, it would totally be this one. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, for totally gratutitous ridiculousness, the music video:</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; white-space: pre;"><object height="340" width="560"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ql-N3F1FhW4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ql-N3F1FhW4&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></span></span></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-30276139688973820662010-06-07T15:28:00.000-07:002010-06-07T15:29:26.707-07:00Where my dawgs at?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"></span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">I'd meant to blog about this some time ago, but kept forgetting, so though the following occurred months ago, I wanted to make note of it anyway.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">There happened to be one morning that daddy left early for work, and mommy set you down in your pack 'n play and situated it in front of the bathroom door to keep an eye on you while I showered. You seemed to be perfectly fine, babbling senselessly and crawling from one toy to the next. After a few minutes, you stood up in the corner and stayed there for a while, but I didn't think much of it since you were probably just staring at your mirror twin, which is one of your favorite activities. But lo and behold, when I stepped from the shower, I spied your partner in crime Hannahbelle lying there next to you, basking in the morning sun. This was obviously before mommy assembled and put up the gate, but doggies (and they know this) are not allowed upstairs under any circumstance</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">—</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">due</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">in large part to the poohfest incident of 2009 when Little Miss Trouble flung excrement wildly about in almost every room the day after we installed [very plush, expensive, beige-colored] new carpet. The images still haunt my dreams.. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Anyway, I was gearing up to give HB a major scolding for daring to cross the upstairs threshold when I realized that perhaps there was a chance she actually thought she needed to watch over you while I was otherwise occupied. I startled her when I emerged from the bathroom, and as she retreated hastily back downstairs, I felt a tinge of guilt. I could see you at all times, so you were never really in danger, but Hannah didn't know that. She was stealthguarding you in my absence, and had probably been there the whole time. And I suppose mommy was secretly proud that she felt so protective. I'm telling you, one day you and Hannahbelle will be inseparable. She may do a lot of things wrong, but she must know that being sweet to you can make up for most of it. And it's good to know that sometimes, your dogs have your back. ;)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8507sAj5A23zppQ44Z2o1WmfY278MWtyaTz7bpkmIdgVTnZfPjrNGsJPBMvTpl0mFDUSmyoX_-CB31aCvLSs8By1KSYkfyiI918sqTWLe5kQvPXRdSpaAFhrfQxjKdZBuUUdMW4hnpds/s1600/ry=400-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8507sAj5A23zppQ44Z2o1WmfY278MWtyaTz7bpkmIdgVTnZfPjrNGsJPBMvTpl0mFDUSmyoX_-CB31aCvLSs8By1KSYkfyiI918sqTWLe5kQvPXRdSpaAFhrfQxjKdZBuUUdMW4hnpds/s400/ry=400-1.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-51261901827838121922010-05-25T15:32:00.000-07:002010-06-07T15:49:36.121-07:00My Funny, Hungry, Sleepy Baby<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">{9 months and gaining}</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">So yesterday at your 9 month checkup, the doctor said we could start giving you baby-sized pieces of our own food as long as you can hold and chew it without issue. When I mentioned this to daddy, he took it as a license to go crazy with the food-tasting, and tonight you tried green beans, your first french fry, and (!!) pork barbeque from Shane's Ribshack. Mommy was not happy with the fact that pork was your first meat, and promptly offered you a shred of my chicken. I fear we're creating a monster. But it's very cute to watch you grab the pieces with your thumb and forefinger and try to land them in your bird-mouth.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Dr. B said you were lookin good. 78th percentile in height; 15th in weight. They'd be concerned if you weren't so tall. Sounds like you take after your mommy. :) You're just starting the clingy stage and becoming wary of strangers, but you warmed up to the doc after a bit and even performed some of your tricks for him (the latest of which is flipping your paci sideways and gripping it with your two teeth). You also clapped and danced (I'm assuming the music was playing in your head), and stood on mommy's lap. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">You're presently not the most talkative of kids, but just the way you look at the world makes me think you're processing it all. And anytime you want to start actually calling me mama (instead of just throwing it out there sans meaning) is good with me. You give wonderful kisses—especially to daddy. You only bit me that one time... ;)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Your favorite snack for the moment is pretzels, which daddy has been giving to you for several weeks without my knowledge. You basically just suck all the salt from them and gnaw the bare stick. When I came home and caught this action going on one night, daddy said "she loves pretzels!" unapologetically. Yes, this was before we had clearance from the doctor to give you finger foods. But I guess no harm done if you don't get sick. Thank goodness you're a very tolerant baby, and can take pretty much anything we throw at you. Maybe I should thank God for that, too.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnHc3OaOynjl-9c25u6Ft-URZCErXQfowZ4dTNwAv6uhpIWnw0o2LWR7A-Ie6ieHorKDxjXkbSbl1FgBf2ukGJ9g_WbQ9-Qh8t5P6z_d8ZLsGYBGfPak7Lp22itsSKsLdAYEqVmuQQUhg/s1600/ry=480-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnHc3OaOynjl-9c25u6Ft-URZCErXQfowZ4dTNwAv6uhpIWnw0o2LWR7A-Ie6ieHorKDxjXkbSbl1FgBf2ukGJ9g_WbQ9-Qh8t5P6z_d8ZLsGYBGfPak7Lp22itsSKsLdAYEqVmuQQUhg/s400/ry=480-2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pretzel or teething tool? you decide</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhersPq-hQBdbvGDUH8dv1CobJs5JxUM8mDdYuv0gV3w_YmnrJiehkCoJ-nsVy7UyQ1qhjM60SHr3Yfo5gMOFnIJnhS0dA9kY8k16J1ubVFr45miwJO5R61-ASrV36koWwAjy-jpLLDxTc/s1600/ry=480-6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhersPq-hQBdbvGDUH8dv1CobJs5JxUM8mDdYuv0gV3w_YmnrJiehkCoJ-nsVy7UyQ1qhjM60SHr3Yfo5gMOFnIJnhS0dA9kY8k16J1ubVFr45miwJO5R61-ASrV36koWwAjy-jpLLDxTc/s400/ry=480-6.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">perhaps some lobster bisque for the lady??</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">yes, that is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffe599;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">seriously</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> what daddy is feeding you...</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We're still doing the 'your bed most of the night; ours the rest' thing, but I'm moderately convinced it's only because daddy wakes from his temporary couchbed and grabs you on the way to ours (perchance sleepthinking you're restless even when you're not). Don't tell him I said that. I have to collect evidence first..</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In the mornings, you stir around 6:30. And though we'd love just that half hour more, your waking process, again, is too cute for us to hate. First you tumble from side to side (mommy to daddy) and see if this gets our attention. You may still be half-sleeping, but it works. Then the paci dislodges and you turn onto your tummy and up to all fours. One of us generally attempts to coax you back to bed with a gentle check against the pillows at that point. But you are not to be discouraged and soon muster up to a stand, looming over one of our faces (employing the head for support). I'm not sure how you know, but the poking, prodding, pulling and smacking does it, and we are up to attend to your every beck and call once again. Periodically, mommy and daddy are more tired and therefore more resistant to your blows, and attempt to endure the abuse longer just to slightly extend the rest. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Recently, you found that pulling daddy's armpit hair will shock him up swiftly. That was a fun morning.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoPoGYDiPjrAYhdBX1SQbeuDvUdxtdf7qPEDrWaiYliabmCU8Ty86VIDLWLgElTI2BXhlBf7wjXCvSJUn1yeZI8740xyQ5eV0-uNy4vuCAoI_XCQ8mwIRk23IKjJ7Tif6Jz3gRBQQkPM/s1600/ry=480.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoPoGYDiPjrAYhdBX1SQbeuDvUdxtdf7qPEDrWaiYliabmCU8Ty86VIDLWLgElTI2BXhlBf7wjXCvSJUn1yeZI8740xyQ5eV0-uNy4vuCAoI_XCQ8mwIRk23IKjJ7Tif6Jz3gRBQQkPM/s400/ry=480.jpeg" width="400" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't even get me started on the falling asleep process. It's more complicated by far, especially on days when your naps aren't regular, but always entails a paci and blankette (i.e. soft piece of fabric posing as a blanket, but smaller—often with a stuffed animal attachment). We call your favorite one Ellie, since it's essentially a flat pink elephant (no, not fat; flat. Seriously, these things sound absurd when you try to explain them). Anywho, you still perform the flailing exercise and rub your Ellie on your cheek to soothe you down. Daddy was watching you do this one day and wondered aloud "do you think she's still gonna have to do that when she, like, goes off to college? I mean her roommate will be lying there peacefully nodding off, and she'll start flapping a pillow about over her head trying to fall asleep." Then he demonstrated and I lost control. We get the biggest kick out of you, baby. It's probably not even funny to anyone else, but I love our inside jokes. You are terrifically hilarious.</span></span></span></div><div><br />
</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-17320079801318953402010-05-03T13:29:00.000-07:002010-06-11T11:24:35.766-07:00Mobile Munchkin<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{8.5 months going on 13}</span></span></span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">nooo! my child has become a mean girl! (or at the very least, joined the paci police). last week was precious jake's first week at school, and you decided to make it super-easy (major sarcastic undertone) by crawling over as soon as i set you down, standing(ish) above him, grabbing his paci and throwing it away (in a "seriously, you don't need this here; i'm just gonna relieve you of it" kind of way). and you did so with the efficiency of a hawk snatching its prey. jaclyn thinks maybe you're just trying to "assert your seniority" and show everyone that although you're little, you're no pushover. i would hate to think of my darling, sweet girl as a bully, so i'm claiming that you were really just preparing to go in for some lovin. you are, after all, a shameless flirt.. </span></span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxXJxLNZmuOXFsPqZRDB-Mohb1YYLbouKbL-lU2SMI7LGWvmiKDB_bMg6rW3PVkVi6AMABBBvi3BSsP8-PX5T83NLZXIlqfPloQ2jbUfx_XqBQDbW0XhkT4CKUwWLHu-80dCMWoygnSg/s1600/ry=400-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmxXJxLNZmuOXFsPqZRDB-Mohb1YYLbouKbL-lU2SMI7LGWvmiKDB_bMg6rW3PVkVi6AMABBBvi3BSsP8-PX5T83NLZXIlqfPloQ2jbUfx_XqBQDbW0XhkT4CKUwWLHu-80dCMWoygnSg/s400/ry=400-1.jpeg" width="282" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(see?)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and not just with the little guys! at lunch just last week, you could not take your eyes off the young blonde surfer boy who came in as we ate. you were babbling away, banging two toys together, and literally stopped mid-play to watch him make his order. you were distracted by his beauty for a good five minutes, which is a dang long time for a baby. luckily, we were at jimmy john's, so he got his sub freaky fast and left. daddy is still your number one guy, though. and we like it that way. preferably until you're about 18. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">another recent development at daycare has been the need for us to sign a "sleep waiver," because you allegedly refuse to remain on your back during naps and your teachers seem to have grown tired of flipping you around. ;) ok so this isn't news to us. on a number of occasions, i will admit, we've put you to bed and check an hour later to find you snoring away on your tummy with your bottom up in the air and legs tucked underneath you. you've also grown to prefer starting out on your side. and honestly, though i know back is best and would absolutely never forgive myself if something happened, i kind of feel like a baby's gonna sleep how a baby wants to sleep (especially if she's little miss mobile and does crib gymnastics like you do). i'm more comfortable on my side, too. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you're crawling all natural-like now, and seriously i feel like we went from infant to toddler in a week because you're pulling up on everything and cruising around just like a real little human (ok yes i know that's what you are, but it's clearly surreal for mommy to watch you growing before my eyes)!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnDcW5BYi16JdQCuCG0hUo9YyRmQYTBNMKR-gfAY0eFwey7q6Z1bEnpqD7UNV3mkLSMLZxmtQgqbKoF3ZqyyySr0zzpHhS2z_gYZmgydgEvAZroLZEgKGNIEPFUrm7onoUwwvRnQh8BA/s1600/ry=400.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnDcW5BYi16JdQCuCG0hUo9YyRmQYTBNMKR-gfAY0eFwey7q6Z1bEnpqD7UNV3mkLSMLZxmtQgqbKoF3ZqyyySr0zzpHhS2z_gYZmgydgEvAZroLZEgKGNIEPFUrm7onoUwwvRnQh8BA/s400/ry=400.jpeg" width="297" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(multitasking)</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglGjWeDIyC4hk7rY6oTEoYYm7-NhQl7LaHtjVtWqjUnjj1kOzcWyjtKYFhiBGt6mqTeWg5CJaEI9JAe_yaB_3nimZmbo9FEYQmEzTTqZwVCYom_KwVSFGxNA_uW4QkIys000d-ejMMB0/s1600/ry=400-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglGjWeDIyC4hk7rY6oTEoYYm7-NhQl7LaHtjVtWqjUnjj1kOzcWyjtKYFhiBGt6mqTeWg5CJaEI9JAe_yaB_3nimZmbo9FEYQmEzTTqZwVCYom_KwVSFGxNA_uW4QkIys000d-ejMMB0/s400/ry=400-4.jpeg" width="297" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(the plastic bottle - still one of your favorite playthings. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">sigh.)</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsO9cOeHTDvTMQ0QxB6u1m7LozrLApedRnHFUlO3yZPsoLVem-nGjdKAYVUledZdQQbBqixNd1juM7J_zk9zjPpffF_TvI8k7ozRVVqKtFwcR4QdeJzmkiNoSrbg4vzbsab3J4KRv-e3s/s1600/ry=400-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsO9cOeHTDvTMQ0QxB6u1m7LozrLApedRnHFUlO3yZPsoLVem-nGjdKAYVUledZdQQbBqixNd1juM7J_zk9zjPpffF_TvI8k7ozRVVqKtFwcR4QdeJzmkiNoSrbg4vzbsab3J4KRv-e3s/s400/ry=400-2.jpeg" width="298" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(and your new favorite toy)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vPMJpL6rbkUWb5ZTkBd32iAPeIY1igRi1WF26qVGglrDoWdns_QMj5LtwIY2Bqz7ZnLVrYDNe7-ozpseNDNUF9q_INYPkUpVB_xl6Ux_CdxKHtD4mssUowqrEKP2F2YGpd1fzjLN3Go/s1600/ry=400-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5vPMJpL6rbkUWb5ZTkBd32iAPeIY1igRi1WF26qVGglrDoWdns_QMj5LtwIY2Bqz7ZnLVrYDNe7-ozpseNDNUF9q_INYPkUpVB_xl6Ux_CdxKHtD4mssUowqrEKP2F2YGpd1fzjLN3Go/s400/ry=400-3.jpeg" width="301" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(hmm.. sweetie I'm not sure that particular thing should go in your mouth)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and random/cute sidenote: daddy often falls asleep downstairs to the drone of the television (he claims it's the only thing that puts him out. and since our room remains technologically-challenged, the den is his preferred nocturnal habitat). as i'm sure i've mentioned before, daddy has some strange sleep habits and it often results in incoherent babbling or some form of sleepwalking. in the wee hours of the night last week, he tromped upstairs and fell into bed and i said "goodnight sweetie, i love you." to which he replied "night babygirl. i love you so much."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">over the weekend we let daddy sleep in while we redecorated the bonus room with your toys. the dogs started barking randomly as they sometimes do (to alert us that there is a squirrel or rabbit that needs our attention), and apparently it woke him. you and i watched/listened helplessly as daddy leapt out of bed, ran to the stairs and somehow launched himself clear over most of them, landing about 4 steps from the bottom. when the dust settled, he came in the room and admitted that he was half-asleep and convinced we were downstairs in danger. i think maybe he was reenacting his childhood superman fantasy .. just kidding.</span></span></div><div><br />
</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-15361416821151118122010-04-08T15:40:00.000-07:002010-04-08T15:40:35.744-07:00The A Report<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{7.5 months... ish}</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">currently, you are: </span></span><br />
<div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">getting teeth!! i finally noticed the little white specks peeking through your gums on March 20th, your 7 month birthday, and when i went to check them out with my finger they were razor-sharp. hm perhaps that's why they call it "cutting".. we have a steady supply of orajel swabs and teething tabs on hand for the pain, which sometimes wakes you up at night. daddy figured out a trick to make the swabs work faster by blowing into the broken end. we also learned to rub it on your paci for maximum effectiveness, and i always put a drop of water on the tabs before giving them to you so they dissolve better. i suppose it's funny that these things are of utmost importance nowadays, but when you have a baby in pain you'll pretty much try anything.</span></span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41SiQ2wxBEiP-cncv-ov8hLj_QTnq1UX4IQTDlgpL9bHi6B19WKuXv88D3qS_zMb3qJhsBuaHaQkQQwgLI1ZG6bWxm1iRFP52DT3w0O_zb5UixaOlE426lX9i2hTPiyIyuEIH5CnSy-M/s1600/IMG_3590.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh41SiQ2wxBEiP-cncv-ov8hLj_QTnq1UX4IQTDlgpL9bHi6B19WKuXv88D3qS_zMb3qJhsBuaHaQkQQwgLI1ZG6bWxm1iRFP52DT3w0O_zb5UixaOlE426lX9i2hTPiyIyuEIH5CnSy-M/s400/IMG_3590.JPG" width="300" /></span></span></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(you can't see them, but i promise they're there!)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">going through bouts of speaking. a couple weeks ago it was "da-da." last week "mmma." and lately you've just starting emitting short (rather loud) shrieks and experimenting with consonants (i keep hearing "vuh" "fuh" and some strange clicking sounds that i think may mean something in another language). yesterday you were chattering on in the car and i was mimicking you in encouragement, and you literally hissed at me. i was a bit taken aback, and then found myself apologizing to you as if you meant something by it.. </span></span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQg-hl-G1bTwQ6XrRVtj3g59wS41aiO3QL7panAuQf7UchepXnW_ZnQV7kLKvH-ubPQjH0jg7Q-mr83OkxWsLpdfnt84H2_Idn0SATBLq2Uw8McwRuv59Q9KGll-L8-oQY4iObK07qoL0/s1600/IMG_3562_crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQg-hl-G1bTwQ6XrRVtj3g59wS41aiO3QL7panAuQf7UchepXnW_ZnQV7kLKvH-ubPQjH0jg7Q-mr83OkxWsLpdfnt84H2_Idn0SATBLq2Uw8McwRuv59Q9KGll-L8-oQY4iObK07qoL0/s400/IMG_3562_crop.jpg" width="400" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(you'd </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">never</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"> hiss at daddy... ;)</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
i'm still claiming that your first word was God. even if it was by accident, you very clearly enunciated "gah-D." ;)</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">omg to the tenth: CRAWLING. i have to admit that every day for at least 2 weeks i've thought you were literally on the verge and would crawl the following day. but you were holding out. clearly, you were capable. i know this because on several occasions, we would place a toy just out of your reach and you'd drop down on all fours, take a couple crawls (just close enough to fall down on your tummy and reach it), and then pick yourself right back up to a sitting position. but you didn't realize you'd already done it, so most of the time you still kept a "safety" leg underneath in order to return to your seat. i think the magic happened when we began encouraging this and clapping every time you'd go down and come back up. when i picked you up yesterday, they told me you'd crawled (and had announced it on the board outside the door). they also said that after doing so, you sat back, grinned and gave yourself a hand. </span></span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAatzYydavTg6L_uEb9yG8gnzHYE5KugvlOoqPBoawLhfgdk5I6PffMv5HjYafMwsPoCPnTUGTLrkLWXxr3tsln7T26GuobgqZhVCk2FXsVa820Zb0hY57D_C0UZifdYnUV7lA5zoFM6g/s1600/IMG_3602.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAatzYydavTg6L_uEb9yG8gnzHYE5KugvlOoqPBoawLhfgdk5I6PffMv5HjYafMwsPoCPnTUGTLrkLWXxr3tsln7T26GuobgqZhVCk2FXsVa820Zb0hY57D_C0UZifdYnUV7lA5zoFM6g/s400/IMG_3602.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">handling the sippycup like a seasoned vet (daddy is crushed that you're growing up so fast). but to be fair, you have been holding your own for some time now.. VK asked a couple months ago "did you know she holds her bottle by herself?" yup. this was at like 5 months. you do have a voracious appetite that probably motivated it early. clearly you get that from your daddy. ;) </span></span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m1HXn7Wh8efrMNxY5WRB5QOW_8Uthmdcc20Xzz9Ig6Uff1fBVGwep5LzOgIaxtB_taGzyZ5wnc0NX_7sjfLq_B660C2v3UyCc0Y7rwmvEZIzuikhcMITbq7ewwy1krFjRtZwFB2YEd4/s1600/IMG_3554_crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6m1HXn7Wh8efrMNxY5WRB5QOW_8Uthmdcc20Xzz9Ig6Uff1fBVGwep5LzOgIaxtB_taGzyZ5wnc0NX_7sjfLq_B660C2v3UyCc0Y7rwmvEZIzuikhcMITbq7ewwy1krFjRtZwFB2YEd4/s400/IMG_3554_crop.jpg" width="375" /></span></span></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(chugging like a pro. right, dad?)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">enjoying banging items together and relishing in the sounds they produce. you have also discovered "the bounce," and do so while seated if you're super-excited (like when we come to pick you up from daycare and you can't quite remember that you know how to crawl now), and in your exersaucer. i especially enjoy this, because you look like you're having fun. and because i would totally get in one of those over-the-door bouncy-seat thingies if they made them big enough.</span></span></li>
</ul></div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">still attached to the paci; though you don't seem to need it as often. olivia might disagree, however, since daddy shared with me a little incident that occurred the other day when you got to school and sat down next to her sans paci; noticed she had one in; and deftly plucked it from her mouth. whoops. evidently, it works both ways though because daddy went to help you out with some orajel the other night and you disengaged your own paci to expeditiously insert it into his mouth. also, you practice the "paci nunchucks" diligently, and won't hesitate to clock anyone who invades your personal space during practice sessions. </span></span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUjdotAkvnLJsTQCOiKJLsQxJB-9iYAnbEcq7Z_TlzwxIEKSSip4b9r7hPACK2eav8NSOJ_-Ke5tV68q8aUQ4SyIjN8yuR-HY1T8p_fynZJ_i_rUpZJdb_Q6pyyzD9dp04NmTcxtHc0w/s1600/IMG_3645.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEUjdotAkvnLJsTQCOiKJLsQxJB-9iYAnbEcq7Z_TlzwxIEKSSip4b9r7hPACK2eav8NSOJ_-Ke5tV68q8aUQ4SyIjN8yuR-HY1T8p_fynZJ_i_rUpZJdb_Q6pyyzD9dp04NmTcxtHc0w/s400/IMG_3645.JPG" width="400" /></a></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">wiggling around in that crib like a clock. as in, i put you down facing 12, and when I check an hour later, it's 3. another hour and you've done a complete 180 and are pushing 6 on the opposite end. when you're trying to fall asleep you sometimes thrust back abruptly and half the time end up shoved into a corner banging your head against the bars. am seriously rethinking this "bumpers are bad" thing.</span></span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">having your first emotional fit. last night we introduced you to teething biscuits and may never be doing so again (jk). when daddy thought you were done and went to take one away, you balled up your fists, lowered your head and squinted ferociously. and the noise that exuded from your petite little frame was nothing short of sheer rage. it sounded like a rabid hamster. in short, you hulked-out. we would have been more sympathetic except that it was so funny daddy and i could not stop laughing. </span></span></li>
</ul><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">trying to remember to call my mom by the correct grandma moniker. since the beginning of time (last august), it's been mimi sally [technically it started with the dogs even before then]. but after hearing a little boy repeatedly call his grandmother "mia," mimi was smitten and asked to be called this instead. forgive me if i use them interchangeably for a while and confuse the crap out of you.</span></span></li>
</ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpXVCzfQEsIA6zBx5C8xApKAPiYpp0O4m-ajO-GlGCWuEJg4nxFECNPyyQL9W2iUu-C751H-2fUNGvSULjd-s83Nv3lC9-kTW9j4-1yTcHyF_ICRdpsrp4-JBOpurk8jdt0b3cSIm7co/s1600/IMG_3531.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFpXVCzfQEsIA6zBx5C8xApKAPiYpp0O4m-ajO-GlGCWuEJg4nxFECNPyyQL9W2iUu-C751H-2fUNGvSULjd-s83Nv3lC9-kTW9j4-1yTcHyF_ICRdpsrp4-JBOpurk8jdt0b3cSIm7co/s400/IMG_3531.JPG" width="300" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(lovin on your </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">mimi</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"> mia!)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">anxious to meet your "cousin" and future bff, Nora Kate! aunt marisa had teeny weeny cutie pie Nora on St. Patrick's Day, so as soon as she's old enough we'll make the introduction. though i may have to have a talk with you beforehand about proper paci etiquette..</span></span></li>
</ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_ZwF8gdPlV0DXdNyJQChdlnk_RnuL4ddLVJeknbLAvFQWsO8-OvH6IaqK4JsZdWhdoYutg4OzvDhiUqZAdFpUQ_kTcu1aKc0vlLdPLNi71cu1-ZvW-EEbNilki2RvBePmiKPq8UkI3s/s1600/26309_1405702864653_1294855553_1136904_6185576_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_ZwF8gdPlV0DXdNyJQChdlnk_RnuL4ddLVJeknbLAvFQWsO8-OvH6IaqK4JsZdWhdoYutg4OzvDhiUqZAdFpUQ_kTcu1aKc0vlLdPLNi71cu1-ZvW-EEbNilki2RvBePmiKPq8UkI3s/s400/26309_1405702864653_1294855553_1136904_6185576_n.jpg" width="400" /></span></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(isn't she cute!?! it's ok if you're jealous of her hair... so are most men)</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">so gosh darn beautiful. the saturday before easter, we had your "6 month" (oops! just a little late...) photo session with Lindsey. you were sadly not in the greatest of moods - hating the grass and outside in general, and keeping your stunning smile under wraps. but somehow she managed to get some great shots. i hope i'm not violating any copyrights by posting them here as long as i attribute them to </span></span><a href="http://www.lindseyturnerphotography.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Lindsey Turner Photography</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">, but i think my absolute favorite picture of all time is the last one. :) </span></span></li>
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i cannot even express how amazingly much i love you!!! i am so incredibly blessed to have you in my life and in my arms, little one.<br />
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and i have to say, i never saw it coming. i mean i knew i wanted to be a mom and i knew i'd like it, but i really had no idea. it is truly such a gift that i have God and daddy to thank for giving to me. i don't think i can ever thank them enough.</span></span></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-24999127878379631472010-03-12T13:38:00.000-08:002010-04-08T14:50:38.958-07:00Feeding the Soul<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Your granny has random weeks where she has to work from 10-7, so she enjoys being your chauffer and taking you to school during that time. Such was the case this week, so daddy dropped you off there before going to work himself. On one particular occasion, however, he forgot his phone in your carseat and doubled back to get it. When he walked in for the second time a mere 15 minutes later, granny was feeding you oatmeal. Apparently she paused mid-shovel, looked up sheepishly and professed "she looked hungry!" Granny told us later she felt like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. ;) It's quite possible she was enjoying it more than you. Luckily, we sometimes rebel against the daycare schedule as well... And hey, a girl's gotta eat.</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLv-spq_z26HuAIbWe566UA-NxUwiUibfC2hfjoGQ5xSNhVu4xsCx-9YhBQoA3SO3lgTGetpopx8CcdibGK5GxFqkEUiWD4zsbo45F9-wbxAIDwwp_sx8uBhD6oNc20hg9KrhBUrYuyw/s1600/IMG_3548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLv-spq_z26HuAIbWe566UA-NxUwiUibfC2hfjoGQ5xSNhVu4xsCx-9YhBQoA3SO3lgTGetpopx8CcdibGK5GxFqkEUiWD4zsbo45F9-wbxAIDwwp_sx8uBhD6oNc20hg9KrhBUrYuyw/s400/IMG_3548.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ACbBMlzQ-JwLLnSFJeApTOFESbeVINejAtuVkzCFB4CTMrSZuLPkEo67MiD3mjcTbQE8J8vPQwK9HkyysXq0I-bes3hjAblbxNj0BCuBU1Cn-9mlgc11ooRfRGkzDlu_-kEaWXkxue4/s1600/ry=480.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(double-fisting it with cucumber and a roll</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkEp11easFlASV0HVtqCUykERveD5eXe1XnusAlx5TLWbgf17j7Y75rqFGYhyphenhyphen6svp_VQQuaaOGhxL3IZHhR1jXM4cHllMQWDLcXh6Gq2blehiHS5-nsJpj_LvaN0AvQ3PeV7Cn5R490o/s1600/IMG_3543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirkEp11easFlASV0HVtqCUykERveD5eXe1XnusAlx5TLWbgf17j7Y75rqFGYhyphenhyphen6svp_VQQuaaOGhxL3IZHhR1jXM4cHllMQWDLcXh6Gq2blehiHS5-nsJpj_LvaN0AvQ3PeV7Cn5R490o/s400/IMG_3543.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoscr7g4ba93hpL8aMPXeyioUyRbN6iIaLXiZzlVqw_Dl1qevryQm75F58YOlLcmgCYyl3CwMdDTsJQ0WH09pWpBg2nck51V14mF-1s9eveQOYyGTBgs9AOpx8q2EqFsLPQeWPaqGJHxk/s1600/ry=400.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(dude, that's the same pose! has aunt heidi been giving you covert lessons?)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">And speaking of daycare, can someone please explain to me why it seems that each day I painstakingly select the perfect outfit for you, and without fail it returns covered in a masterful scattering of shellacked poo or carrots? (I'll spare you the pictures). I am now convinced that they a. do not know how to properly apply a flipping diaper, and b. let you feed yourself (or c. resent the supercute/white-colored attire and therefore feel that it must die a horrible, stain-induced death). I have to say that I am for the most part pleased with your "education," and secretly take pride in the fact that Ms. Alicia all but called you her favorite the other day when I picked you up (saying quote 'she's definitely the sweetest baby... and the cutest'). Ok maybe they say that to all the moms when no one else is listening, but come on it's totally true. ;) </span><a href="http://www.jaclynbjohnson.blogspot.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Jake</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> isn't in your class yet, so your status is safe for now.. and even then you know you'll still be their favorite skinny bald girl! Actually, you aren't completely hairless, but that back combover is a force to be reckoned with. I refuse to cut it and leave you with a bald spot, so it just wafts in the wind when we go outside and makes me laugh. It'll fill in eventually. :)</span></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GAngYb_Do0dmrPbTMtGIN4vY4JkbNFIoVmRvqH1xz-rKtRIE0R_APbF7X0gzYv5Oze50H1O4Me8Q2MXEoLGn9ou-JOyDcdLhqAtBHq86OkGo-wYaCg01wWaN7A18a3zJDvEAJfVfRkg/s1600/25228_1350384114579_1080639863_1041234_3518921_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4GAngYb_Do0dmrPbTMtGIN4vY4JkbNFIoVmRvqH1xz-rKtRIE0R_APbF7X0gzYv5Oze50H1O4Me8Q2MXEoLGn9ou-JOyDcdLhqAtBHq86OkGo-wYaCg01wWaN7A18a3zJDvEAJfVfRkg/s400/25228_1350384114579_1080639863_1041234_3518921_n.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">(if you look closely, you can see the trump hair in bac</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;">k ;)</span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-73680373488430702132010-03-10T19:18:00.000-08:002010-06-30T08:35:19.362-07:00To the Shore<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that i'm one of the more modest people you'll meet. but the act of birthing and subsequently feeding your child pretty much requires you to toss that modesty out the window from the top of the empire state building the day your baby is born. i had to have an out-of-body experience to really be ok with the fact that that many people were looking at - and groping - my ladyparts. even still, i often make euphemisms for b-feeding (see i can't even say it here). i tell people i'm "making food" or "going to feed ansley." but my fav as of late is "going to the shore." this most recent genteelism was borne of the MTV phenomenon </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Jersey Shore,</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> wherein the self-proclaimed Guidos and Guidettes dance to house music by "beating up the beat" with frequent and forceful fist pumps (you can't make this stuff up). therefore, going to the shore = jersey shore --> where they practice fist pumping --> which is kind of like milk pumping... you get it, right? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBidBi08Sk-CRRFtV2DnM7C8Lqgp5q3q4zZfbEW1ctTzGYs4XpxshbDm_0O2gjV3Sy8ecs02174h6G_ZqIXJMHvKmkqFnt6LOw9-O-4ABQ5MhJLR8A7PMhcCoX40bX8AsHMjxhjY26vd8/s1600-h/Jersey-Shore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBidBi08Sk-CRRFtV2DnM7C8Lqgp5q3q4zZfbEW1ctTzGYs4XpxshbDm_0O2gjV3Sy8ecs02174h6G_ZqIXJMHvKmkqFnt6LOw9-O-4ABQ5MhJLR8A7PMhcCoX40bX8AsHMjxhjY26vd8/s400/Jersey-Shore.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">well sometimes we don't have to go all the way to the shore and ansley just drinks from the tap. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">this happened yesterday when daddy came up with a glass of milk and tried to toast you, saying "we can drink our milk together!" but little did he know, you require full concentration when taking a milk break, and would have none of it. seriously - completely stopped gulping, turned your head around and let out an "uuuhhh" in exclamation of your annoyance. when daddy tried to reason with you, he got another, even more annoyed-sounding "uhh." (translation: go </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">away</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> daddy, this is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">my</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> time). poor daddy finally gave up and reluctantly trudged out of the room, but not before warning you "those might be yours now, but not forever..."</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjLRhk5qYOXWqOAO4cw2SM1Frbrb_UHLiNLyTUA_0mfwQLK9SMQixpXDK0XWZuRmfrAMolGEfaFTLvzxyzNXT0jFsCFJ_DC9H7CknbEcE_2X-5BfZCqk1uaOGLlfmH749To-jdxpgkqE/s1600-h/BG-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjLRhk5qYOXWqOAO4cw2SM1Frbrb_UHLiNLyTUA_0mfwQLK9SMQixpXDK0XWZuRmfrAMolGEfaFTLvzxyzNXT0jFsCFJ_DC9H7CknbEcE_2X-5BfZCqk1uaOGLlfmH749To-jdxpgkqE/s400/BG-2.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue',Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-62646639544551348982010-03-01T12:57:00.000-08:002010-03-01T13:02:38.579-08:00Takes My Breath Away<object width="480" height="295"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-8PBx7isoM&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h-8PBx7isoM&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="295"></embed></object><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">Jon, I love you, and that is why you must see this. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">I admit that I did something I've never done before when I saw it for the first (and second, and third) time. I shed more than a couple tears watching a </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">PSA!</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> And yes, I was at work. It's just so beautifully done and incredibly poignant, I couldn't not share it. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">(Ok, the "arms of an angel" humane society commercial also brings me to tears, but I'd never subject others to a repeat viewing. I just really appreciate this one).</span></span>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-28605070828953116622010-02-23T12:48:00.000-08:002010-02-23T12:50:46.483-08:00Your You-Ness<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">{6 months old}</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">things i don't want to forget:</span></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you play with my hair while eating - twist it around your hand and run your fingers through it. it's such a sweet gesture. i've been thinking about chopping most of it off, but you make me reconsider. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">speaking of hand movements, you are now practicing your dexterity by repeatedly opening and closing your fist. this is especially adorable when you're drifting off to sleep and we can just barely see your little hand peeking up over the pack&play (and then disappearing.. and then reappearing.. and then disappearing...)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you also like to delicately place your hand on our faces, or grab it with both and pull us toward you (so sweet!!). </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoA2ICI39DaqrI1GeKJRxwBvkEZfTpqZvki7B4kmrzFGlsXr-ML3vYHY5TOfSlhRFVe8lCDr9GcuCgxJq45h2z8vtNgHTIZCSzGbi6qYTba_NrALynqCl_OMqMqeqOiMnNSqOQ9AR8_Ps/s1600-h/22644_1312004475112_1080639863_949244_3843175_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoA2ICI39DaqrI1GeKJRxwBvkEZfTpqZvki7B4kmrzFGlsXr-ML3vYHY5TOfSlhRFVe8lCDr9GcuCgxJq45h2z8vtNgHTIZCSzGbi6qYTba_NrALynqCl_OMqMqeqOiMnNSqOQ9AR8_Ps/s400/22644_1312004475112_1080639863_949244_3843175_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(you & aunt Loryn practicing a face grab/backwards hug situation)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">i even love your "hunger face." - don't get me wrong, i would never want you to be hungry, but occasionally when you </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">are</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> especially ravenous, your eyes lock on to the target and you open your mouth as wide as possible while taking short, forceful breaths. i need to get that on tape. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">sometimes when you wake up in the wee hours of the morn, you don't go back to sleep right away. you just sit there and talk. daddy and i listen to your "aaaa. aaa. aaaaaaa"ing and can't help but laugh - even when we want to be mad that you're keeping us up.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">it's official. you have inherited daddy's "crazy eyes." in other words, when you've been asleep for any length of time and awaken suddenly, your bloodshot, wide-eyed stare pierces through my very soul.. (well that may be a bit dramatic but you clearly look POed). don't worry, wake daddy up at the wrong time and i'm sure you'll get to experience them yourself someday. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">you are for real a professional ninja now. or baby beckham. those kicks are </span></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">strong!</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"> and you kick with a ferocity i've not witnessed before. you've even taken to pulling your knees up and kicking off when mommy or daddy is holding you, and one of these days you're just going to do a backflip right out of my arms. careful munchkin!!</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">you gave us our first card for valentine's day. it had a picture of you sitting there smiling triumphantly and a little construction-paper footprint bouquet (made cuter by the little uneven monkey-toeprints). i cried.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2NQI8tQOVIunRPiLfehZY8mMWG-HyFoSbVX9KuLcbOMm1BzS_CK9bm03l52q4gUoZwrOEha-tdgrhx1ALo-rowBgFk4j54dai8f4eZMKJPrwRdbTNbR0JE5iinM9acql2RzW0m9yq8E/s1600-h/20544_1309258806472_1080639863_943036_6560094_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="392" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2NQI8tQOVIunRPiLfehZY8mMWG-HyFoSbVX9KuLcbOMm1BzS_CK9bm03l52q4gUoZwrOEha-tdgrhx1ALo-rowBgFk4j54dai8f4eZMKJPrwRdbTNbR0JE5iinM9acql2RzW0m9yq8E/s400/20544_1309258806472_1080639863_943036_6560094_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #eeeeee; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;">you recognize "your peeps" now. anyone you know can summon a most brilliant dimpled smile (and sometimes even people you don't know). i love that you do this. you amaze me.</span></span></div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9092754935503953323.post-7814400690038424492010-02-16T08:36:00.000-08:002010-03-05T10:02:02.445-08:00The Return of the Crud<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Helvetica;"></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so basically, you've been sick for almost 4 weeks now. it started off as a bit of congestion, and you had your first (low-grade) fever on Friday the 29th (of January) - which also happened to be the first of several snowdays in the past couple weeks from which you were quarantined. :( we could tell you felt yucky, but even then it was only mildly irritating to your normally-sweet disposition, so we just let you sleep as much as possible and tried to wait it out. but in the last week and a half, the congestion has morphed into a runny nose and produced a scary-sounding cough that occasionally causes you to projectile vomit on anything in your path. not so much a good time for the washing machine to up and quit. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">just last week, you started putting both your fists in your mouth, drooling fiercely and then screaming in pain when we give you something to gnaw on. you seem to be calmed by the miraculous </span><a href="http://www.orajel.com/products/baby/teething/swabs.htm"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">orajel swabs</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> i preemptively purchased for teething. does this mean you're teething? and if so, those toofers need to stop hurting you. why do babies need teeth anyway? </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of course, mommy and daddy freak out a tad at the slightest screech (you being our first baby and all), so we took you to dr. brassfield on monday. to be fair, your cold symptoms did seem to be worsening rather than clearing up. but as we suspected, there's not much we can do to help you (you seriously can't imagine how frustrating that is!). if i haven't mentioned it before, we love our doc and ansley does, too. when she's not sick. </span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">at least we ruled out the big things. dr. b looked at you and said "i bet you don't cry for long at your house." nope. can't imagine why...</span></span></div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqHXMjUd0CnqH8YsSftMOCtlzRhusK9NY7-wz5El6XK3-pytLH2aJi88XJrX86RsIP6HNwDtZ7h2WoAvxNlStu9UxItCkmufO0NHVq7DuKWFvEFJrwD29TxIGv4xmCB7NHlIwSvJhatE/s1600-h/sweetsmile.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEqHXMjUd0CnqH8YsSftMOCtlzRhusK9NY7-wz5El6XK3-pytLH2aJi88XJrX86RsIP6HNwDtZ7h2WoAvxNlStu9UxItCkmufO0NHVq7DuKWFvEFJrwD29TxIGv4xmCB7NHlIwSvJhatE/s400/sweetsmile.jpeg" width="270" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i guess i should take a second to explain. first, a disclaimer: i am not an expert, nor do i recommend raising your child exactly as i do. i know there are a myriad of methods out there and, really, who knows which is better than another. what works for me may not work for anyone else. so i'll try not to give "advice" unless it's asked. the following (and any further parental nuggets i choose to share herein) is simply "how we do." take it or leave it. right or wrong. crazy-brilliant or just literally crazy.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i've mentioned babywise in here before, and though i believe in its merits and fully trust its effectiveness, much like me and the pill, babywise and i have broken up. it was a mutual decision and an amicable split, but b-dub and i differ when it comes to the "cry it out" scenario.</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">there may come a time when i will feel the need to do such a thing. and i may eat my words with a healthy dose of my own saltwater tears, but at the current moment i simply cannot understand why i would set my baby down and leave her to cry when we can rock or sway for a few minutes, or even lay her in the crib while i watch over her as she floats painlessly off to dreamland. you could say she has us wrapped around her abnormally-long little fingers. but i just think right now she's a pretty good little baby, and i'm fairly certain she's not lacking the ability to soothe herself (her personal morning talkshow is evidence of this..). </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">we did get into the habit of co-sleeping during the sickness as i feared for her respiratory function and needed to hear her breathing, but are finally easing back to the crib and she's done fabulously. yes, there are times when jon or i go to her in the middle of the night to re-insert the paciplug, but for the most part she sleeps well. and for me, that's enough. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">**disclaimer 2: if you're feeling out of sorts after reading this post, you're not loopy. i'm retro-posting, since i didn't have time to do so when i first started writing this. if you're new to.. me.. or this blog, i'm going to be doing quite a bit of this since i have "journal entries" that date back beyond a year and am seriously trying to organize pictures to go with them. i also have a list of pics and videos to add before i really "catch up" and can start posting in realtime again. so please forgive me if i don't get to the latest ansley stat. i'm trying!! i know.. i suck. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cccccc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">will cute ansley pics help???</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIG0RsGn5ImW3JcUTaPo3DhowaxoLCanOU6yg0XSZBUN5Uz-6GDu1YUPxcj5Eue82wZXIpJBLzvla63TYXBYXISel4Nf7BL9JgLXRNj8tPPj4WlAT86pkh313Ts_jIe7g49nxF-n0aq0/s1600-h/snowsuit.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyIG0RsGn5ImW3JcUTaPo3DhowaxoLCanOU6yg0XSZBUN5Uz-6GDu1YUPxcj5Eue82wZXIpJBLzvla63TYXBYXISel4Nf7BL9JgLXRNj8tPPj4WlAT86pkh313Ts_jIe7g49nxF-n0aq0/s400/snowsuit.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(snow-suiting up!)</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtr4QcYfrGRR2NBFjpwKBzlkdZVEFaWgGW2lNmSx7f47SgqVDjks1qMU2ugxeyZ0aYN0_GPAdwECKhxZvjvj3khqKCVl8p8KZNZ4SYvcVB7LlB6la8Dt-n2o_zSsclUhWKtQpP6y-Obk/s1600-h/snowsuit2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNtr4QcYfrGRR2NBFjpwKBzlkdZVEFaWgGW2lNmSx7f47SgqVDjks1qMU2ugxeyZ0aYN0_GPAdwECKhxZvjvj3khqKCVl8p8KZNZ4SYvcVB7LlB6la8Dt-n2o_zSsclUhWKtQpP6y-Obk/s400/snowsuit2.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(but.. now how do i get to my hands?)</span></span></div><div><br />
</div>McKenziehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04349180685993187264noreply@blogger.com0