birthday boy

Just because I know this is imperative news for you: today is Tim’s birthday.

I have zero planned, other than a cake. I did that part right, at least.

He is super difficult to buy presents for because he doesn’t want anything small (read: inexpensive). He wants big things.

Expensive things like what, you ask?

Like a new camera + lenses (Nikon D600)

Or a GIANT television. I don’t even remember the brand or size. My memory says a Samsung and 60″ but I’m probably wrong…I really don’t pay attention to electronic desires other than to say, “send me a link with the EXACT thing you want.”

Or a deck in our backyard.

I have to admit, I want that last one, too.

So, suffice it to say his birthday gift is TBD because those things aren’t exactly cheap-o.

But now that I think about it, he did mention in passing that he needed new underwear…hmmm….

one hundred months

Today is Tim and my 100-month-a-versary!

And it’s also the first day of spring.

I know. We so planned it to work out this way.

We’ve gone from this:

To this:

To this.

And it just keeps getting better.

And more delayed. Obviously that’s our Christmas picture and obviously we haven’t had another chance for a “we all showered and put on real clothes” photo op.

dear kellan: one year!

One year ago you and I we were confused and scared and wet and cold…or maybe it was just you who was wet and cold. I was actually about to pass out, thank you super long labor (12am Sunday morning to 6:37pm Sunday night) meds and no food for over twenty four hours. We have come a looooong way, you and me and daddy, in this past year. Who knew that our tiny little boy would become this vibrant baby with a sense of humor and strong personality in such a short time.

The other day, we were watching Alice in Wonderland for research purposes for your birthday (the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party). There is this part where she is singing in forest and all the animals (well, the things that are supposed to be animals) begin coming out and watching her sing. There is this duck that looks more like a horn on a bike. She has baby horn ducks and as they creep out of the bushes, one of the baby ducks ventures out in front of his mom and then he realizes how far away he is and turns around and runs back to his mom, hiding behind her back and then peeking up carefully from his protected position. That made me think of you and your clinginess. And it all made sense. You and that baby duck are one in the same.

All of the things you have been trying to do this month makes the clinginess even more pronounced. You have found your walking legs, though you still need us to hold your hands, and you want to walk everywhere. It seemed to start right at the beginning of the month when we when to the park with a friend (1/19) and you decided that you wanted to walk up and down the stairs on the playground and everywhere in between. Now, you want to walk up and down the stairs in the house, which is funny, because you take these huuuuge steps to try and walk up each step like we do, one foot and then the other, step after step. It is funny your legs are long enough to accomplish such a feat!

This month has been busy, for sure, but I feel like I say that every month. I guess we just like to do stuff – which is a good thing. You seem to love going places and experiencing everything. You have always been such an expressive child and your likes and dislikes come out more and more as each day passes. One of your funniest moments to date was when we were grocery shopping (1/21) and you somehow managed to get your Sophie teething giraffe underneath you and kept bouncing up and down, squeaking it, over and over and over. I finally clued in as to what was happening and took a video of it and sent it to America’s Funniest Videos. The whole exchange was hysterical. Not only had you made up your own game, but you answered my questions about Sophie (Where is Sophie? Sit! Can you squeak her? Yes!)

And then, as if I needed another example of your silliness, we went to breakfast with a friend a few days later (1/24), sans daddy (for both moms). I was holding you in the booth and then sat you down next to me for a minute so I could do something (who knows what it was, there was so much commotion with three kids and two moms and ordering food…). Then, when I picked you up to sit in my lap again, you didn’t have any pants on.

HOW????

I looked at my friend like, “Um. Kellan took off his pants.”

Never a day goes by where you don’t crack us up. It is one of my favorite things about you…your ability to make us laugh, no matter what is going on.

So, let us talk about sleep for a second, shall we?

After a YEAR of me having no idea what kind of schedule you were trying to create when it came to naps and sleep, something happened, finally (1/25)!!

A pattern!

You now like to nap “around” 8am and 12pm for varied lengths of time and then bedtime is 6pm. Our bath routine is apparently really important, too, as that signals bedtime for you in a big, big way. If, for some reason, there isn’t a bath, it is really hard to get you to go to bed. We also have this thing where daddy takes you up to the bath to fill the tub and get you ready while I put out all the post-bath stuff. Then, I (still) get in the tub with you and daddy washes you and then he also does all of the post-bath stuff (diaper cream, lotion, etc). I lay down in bed to get ready to nurse you. Daddy lays you down and you wait for him to give you a kiss and say goodnight and then you nurse…and sleep.

If *I* try to do the daddy part of the routine?

Tears, usually.

I had no idea that the order of activity (and the person doing it) was so ingrained in your mind. It is kind of interesting to see it, though. It gives me insight on how you are and what you like. It helps me. So, thank you.

We went to San Diego for my birthday for a long weekend, and even though our nap routine was kind of scattered, we still did a bath with you every night, which really helped. You slept like a rock while we were there. You may have woken up once during the night, but that was it. I’m sure all of the activity during the day really wore you out. We went to the zoo and the beach and your favorite, favorite, favorite thing of the whole trip?

Concrete barriers to keep cars off the boardwalk.

I’m serious.

You went bananas over those things, “Touch! Touch! Touch!” every time we passed them.

It is nice you have a decent vocabulary, though, so we can communicate and understand what it is you want or need. You do have a word for everything you don’t know how to say. It’s “bup.” You do this hand thing that isn’t really pointing with a finger but more of an entitled wave thing that says “that, mummy, over there…yes, do kindly bring it to me.”

Anyhow, the day after we got home from San Diego, you had a horrible, horrible time sleeping. You would try to nurse but wouldn’t because you were in pain (that I thought was from teething), so you would just hold onto the boob and then fall back asleep. It was pitiful and sad. Turns out, it wasn’t just teething. You ended up getting really sick (2/6) and we had to take you to the ER (again) because you weren’t eating or drinking or nursing, which meant you weren’t peeing, though you had watery diarrhea that smelled like WHOA.

All of that meant you were getting dehydrated – hence ER visit.

Turns out, you had herpangina, which were these really awful blisters in the back of your throat, which was why you weren’t nursing. Apparently you probably got it in San Diego, since it lives in warmer climates and isn’t common in Colorado in the winter. I was kind of thinking I had the same thing, since I had been feeling blah, too, and my throat was killing me. I cannot even imagine how you felt.

Thanks, San Diego. Well, really, thanks airplanes and airports.

We went back to the ER again the next day (2/7) because you were still having diarrhea AND throwing up AND you weren’t drinking much of anything.

You were fine, though we were there for FOREVER because A: you were ok and B: they had a few super sick kiddos come in and they kind of forgot we were there. I mean, I totally understand but you were not very happy. You decided to pick your nose for the first time as we said goodbye to the doctor…pulled out a nasty long booger, too. I guess that was your, “I’ve wanted to leave for AN HOUR, this one’s for you” send off because you haven’t done it since.

Again with the sense of humor…

Granted, mommy and daddy were ready to get out, too.

And then? The next day?

I texted Tim around three in the morning, asking him if he was throwing up because I heard him go to the bathroom and I had been laying in bed, feeling awful and feverish and super, super sick. Turns out, he was throwing up and we were both feverish and sick. That whole weekend was terrible. I pretty much tried to lay in bed and keep the TV on to entertain you while Tim camped out in the bathroom, emptying the contents of everything.

I hope that never, ever happens again, the entire family sick and unable to do anything but basically survive. I am slightly thankful that you weren’t feeling 100%, because it meant you didn’t want to eat regular food or move around much, which was perfect for me.

We even decided to reschedule your birthday because we were all still in recovery mode. So, we will celebrate on March 9 with all of your friends.

No worries, though, we still had a little birthday celebration with you on your birthday with your Mimi, who came to see you for your birthday weekend (2/15-2/19). You had so much fun with her! I was worried that you would be a little apprehensive, since you had been so clingy, but you two got along like old pals. It was really cute to watch you two interact and play. She brought you books, too, and you love them! Your love and desire for reading is incredible! We read stories all the time. You could probably read stories all day long. Well, intermixed with watching Winnie the Pooh. You ask to watch it, now, by doing your hand wave thing at the TV. There is a part where a red balloon comes into the picture and you start saying “baba! baba!” in the scene right before the balloon one. That blows our minds! You anticipate!

I’m just going to do a quick run down of some of the other things that happened this month, since it seems like the older you get, the more things you accomplish in such a short time!

2/13: You pulled a pillow over your head to nurse and fell asleep like that for your afternoon nap. It was pretty funny.

2/15: You pulled up using the Zany Zoo. This was the first time you actually pulled up from a sitting position! Yay! You started doing it from my lap and I slowly moved my legs away so you would pull up and then sit down on the floor. You did this over and over and over and over! You actually started whining while pulling up. I’m guessing your legs were getting tired. You didn’t stop, though. I guess you really wanted to practice your new skill.

2/15: You have gone from gagging on everything you put into your mouth to shoving half a strawberry in your maw and handling it with no problem. Strawberries are your current favorite food, by the way. That and toast with cinnamon and butter for breakfast.

2/19: Your birthday “day” was jam packed! We had breakfast (a waffle with a “1″ candle in it), opened Mimi’s present to you, took Mimi to the airport to go home, went to Big Daddy Bagels for second breakfast, did your cake smash picture (you didn’t really smash it though) and ONE pictures, FaceTimed with Nonni and Papa, did a wagon ride around the neighborhood in your wagon from Nonni and Papa, went to Grandrabbits so you could pick out your birthday present (out of allllllllll the toys, you immediately picked out a green ball – of course. Balls are your favorite), had dinner at Which Wich (an employee came over and talked to us and found out it was your birthday and made you a free cookie – which you loved – and a fruit roll up, which I didn’t give you), came home and opened MORE presents from your cousins and aunts and uncles, watched Winnie the Pooh and finally, took a picture of you next to the clock at the time you were both (6:37pm). You pretty much crashed after that, as did mommy and daddy.

I’m not sure if you’ll be walking by yourself by the time I write your next letter, but even if you aren’t, it’s ok. My back can probably handle another month (I kid, I kid).

You are the most amazing, wonderful, happy person in the whole wide world. I have no idea what your daddy and I did before you came about. You bring so much life and meaning and joy to us, every day, every minute. You even bring joy to others. Everywhere we go – and I mean EVERYWHERE – someone will stop us and say how cute you are. You bring smiles to faces of complete strangers. I’m not even sure if you realize how much that means, but it means a lot to be able to brighten someone’s day with a smile or with your cute curly hair. We are so, so hoping it stays curly…but if not, you’ll still be the cutest kid ever.

I love you so, so much, my little helpless baby who is quickly turning into an independent toddler!

mommy

the big 3-0

So…..my birthday is Saturday. Groundhog’s Day.

I’m going to be thirty.

3-0.

THIRTY.

It still hasn’t really sunk in, yet.

Once, a long time ago, I said I wanted to be finished having kids by now.

Obviously, that didn’t happen.

I did say that I would do a lot of things before 30.

And I have.

Marathons, traveling, getting married, moving across the country, having a kid, oh my!

But, being the list-type person that I am, I think I need to make another list…a before 40 list…

Suggestions?

Also? Please send everyone you know right to this spot to tell me thirty is the new awesome.

And I really would write more, but I’m currently off celebrating in style.

More on that later…

it happened. again.

The key to nowhere happened…again.

Tim is convinced our post office dude dudette (as I learned from the post office) is smoking the Mary Jane. I’m inclined to agree.

We cannot even figure out how this happens. A mail person has a package for us. It’s too big to fit in the small, personal mailbox. So, instead, they place it in a larger mailbox. The larger mailbox has a key. The large box and the key have a matching number, say 2.

That key – the one that opens the larger box where our package is, is placed into our small, personal mailbox, so when we get our mail, we see the key, look at the number on the attached keychain, and then open the larger box matching that number.

Inside the larger box?

Our package?

Nope.

The key to nowhere.

Shouldn’t that be Mail Delivery 101?

PACKAGES ONLY IN THE GIANT BOX. NO KEYS. ALWAYS.

The next morning, I took the key up to the post office. I pressed for answers but the post office people couldn’t even explain it, other than to stare at me blankly, write my address on a post it, tell me they’d look for my package, and that they had “a lot of mail yesterday.“

Ok…ummm….that’s your…job?….

So, later that afternoon, I go and retrieve the mail, with a very low expectation as to what I would find.

And then this happened.

I had to take a picture because I couldn’t even believe it myself.

(And yes, my address is blurred out but that’s THE POST IT from earlier in this story.)

Does that look like #3 to you???

Me either.

Want to see what was in Box #3 – which was broken, by the way?

And to make it even more amusing?

That certainly does not look like the third box from the left.

I’M JUST SAYING.

Dear USPS: Your mail delivery people apparently never learned their numbers OR how to count. In other words, they need HALP.

******

Also? Before this key debacle, Kellan received this in the mail. I meant to share it earlier this week but I currently have a child who wants me to help him walk EVERYWHERE and that leaves little time for anything else, including eating. We got to the bathroom in pairs, now, in case you’re wondering how that all works out.

Anyhow…

To make a fairly long story short, I’ve been on the hunt for dragon baby stuff, since Kellan was born in the year of the dragon in Chinese culture. I know I talked about this a loooooong time ago – probably a year ago – on here.

Except, I’m just now realizing that I should have probably collected neat dragon things for Kellan’s box like, a year ago, but, that never happened and now, hello, baby requiring 110% of my time.

Anyway, so I come across this book all about the year of the dragon and decide that, like those Wolf Creek blocks (that I found and purchased, by the way), I must have it. The book is perfect. Kellan will love it (when he’s old enough to appreciate it)!

And, yooooou guessed it: CAN’T FIND IT ANYWHERE. The 2013 book? No problem. Same with every other year except 2012.

So, what’s a girl who can’t take a baby on a wild goose chase to do?

Email the author on a whim, hoping he can help.

And help he did – what a sweet and thoughtful gesture!! Not only does Kellan get to have this book as a keepsake, it is signed by the author and also contains a nice note to Kellan on a card.

I was truly blown away.

There are still amazing, kindhearted people in the world who will do something special for a complete stranger.

And I am so thankful that I have come across one those people.

nine weeks

This happened today.

Well, the actual mailing of these first birthday invitations to (mostly) fictional characters, anyway.

(and yes, those a receipts that Tim needs and a piece of our the trunk of our Christmas tree that, at some point, I plan to make an ornament out of, since it is Kellan’s first Christmas tree…all in my abundant spare time, obviously)

Can you believe that we are basically NINE WEEKS away from Kellan’s first birthday?

OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG.

I remember counting nine weeks last year. I remember Christmas last year. I remember thinking that Kellan would be here soon.

I remember looking like this (and this post was written almost exactly a year ago).

And now, he’s here.

And he’s almost one.

How did this year go by so quickly?

Have I started planning his party?

Um.

Yes?

Only…not really?

I’ve gotten as far as the guest list. Theme? Location? Time? Date?

NO CLUE.

I think I’ll start by ordering invitations because, honestly, the number of things I want to get done for his birthday?

Overwhelming.

Invitations are important, right?

The overachiever in me thinks I’ll get it ALL done but the realist knows it probably won’t ALL happen.

I still haven’t even finished Christmas stuff yet.

So, instead of freaking out, because I can feel it coming the more I think about everything I’m not doing, let’s just take a moment and look at this cute face, instead.

all about poo

So……I feel like I start a lot of posts like this…but…it’s like I’m sheepishly asking you a question that isn’t exactly the most comfortable to, um, discuss.

So……did you know that you can hire people to clean the dog poo out of your yard?

Yah.

Me either.

Until it had to happen and said person who decided that would be his business plan is out in the backyard as I write, cleaning up poo.

Maddie, our golden, is getting older and more crotchety and has the most finicky stomach in the history of ever. EVER.

Nervous?

Diarrhea.

Eats anything other than her food and special treats?

Diarrhea.

Heartworm medicine?

Diarrhea.

Doggie daycare?

You guessed it.

Diarrhea.

The backyard is pretty much no man’s land because GROSS. What exactly are you supposed to do with that which cannot be scooped?

Answer?

Hire someone else to deal with it.

And you guys! The dude is super nice and was trying to help me with suggestions for Maddie and awwww man! Now he’s outside cleaning up her grossness.

Yes, I actually showed my face to the person who will be getting up close and personal with our yard poo. Shameful…on my part. Not his.

I mean, I know he’s getting paid and everything and it was his idea to start the business in the first place but…it’s poo.

In our next house, we are separating out part of the lawn for the dogs and the rest will be livable space. Thank you, invisible fence.

That’s my day, people. It’s crazy exciting over here, obviously.

Also?

Happy 12-12-12!

I’m so taking a Kellan picture to celebrate this date.

i made that

For anyone who is a parent…have you ever had a moment where you sat back and looked at your child like, “Wow. I MADE THAT.”

Especially us women.

Because, really, we actually made that.

I’ll never forget the first time I looked at Kellan and thought, “So that’s you.”

The you who kicked me at 3am or who stuck their little bum up in my ribs or who got the hiccups all the time and I’d put my hand on my belly, hoping to pacify you, if only just a little bit.

You.

It is kind of an otherworldly experience, really, because that tiny person started out as two cells – TWO CELLS – and now, look at him.

Mr. Personality.

Mind blowing.

This little person who I knew last year as – literally – a bump that moved and punched and hiccuped and gave me heartburn. One year later, he’s a lively baby boy who does all of that, still, minus the heartburn.

They are born…and then they grow…it’s a little person. A teeny, tiny human.

I made a teeny tiny human.

MADE ONE.

From basically nothing.

That’s like, crazy alien type stuff right there.

I legit grew another person.

Until this actually happens to you, you really have no idea how crazy weird that it all really is. I think seeing the end result – a la baby – is where it finally hits you like WHOA.

TEENY TINY PERSON.

I did that.

Obviously, I am failing miserably to find an eloquent way to say this. You know, I don’t think there is an eloquent way to explain the feeling and the reality behind tiny person creation. If you find any, it was probably written by a man who has no idea what he’s talking about.

Their “part” in the creation process is all of two seconds…or five seconds…minutes…whatever.

They don’t…they can’t know.

Well, until the baby is actually here, in the flesh, and then their eyes get all big and they’re like, WHOA.

YOU MADE THAT.

of course we talked about the worms

First: my life has been taken over by Christmas. That’s where I’ve been. Wrapped in tinsel and paper and running around like a crazy person.

Second: if my in real life friend reads this, this is to you: all in good fun…no offense meant and we still love you…both. Always. Thank you for giving us a good laugh – we needed it – and this only makes you that much more fun.

So, the other night, Tim, Kellan and I had dinner at a friend’s house. Let’s call her B. And her husband – we’ll call him K. And their kiddo will be N. I’m not divulging names since they aren’t mine to divulge…

Anyhow, so, dinner. It was pretty inauspicious. Pizza with ground turkey tomato sauce and boiled artichokes. Kellan and N had peas, too, but Kellan was more interested in dropping and placing his food everywhere except his mouth. Their floor, table, chair, probably wall…all got a special pizza sauce treatment.

I don’t like leaving messes. B doesn’t like messes, period.

You can imagine the horror that went through my brain when she was like, “No. Don’t clean it up!”

And inside I’m like, “BUT. BUT. BUT. MESS!!!!!!”

Then B was like, “It’ll be a good lesson for all of us.”

BUT!

K ended up cleaning the Kellan mess.

Wait. I’m getting way ahead of myself, here. Waaaay ahead.

During dinner, conversation somehow turned to how B got worms for K for a gift.

Yes. Worms.

Real, live, squiggly ones.

They live in the basement and eat leftover food and make compost.

I’m not even kidding.

I’m pretty sure they don’t roam free or anything. B wouldn’t be able to deal with that – nor would I. Worms give me the ebee geebies. Shudder.

B had to take delivery of them worms (oh, yah. You can ship these puppies.) and about had a panic attack because WORMS. The first set didn’t make it – the “move” from wherever they came from was too stressful (I cannot believe I’m using “worms” and “stress” in the same sentence). The second group seemed to survive, I guess, because as we were all putting our artichoke leaves into a bowl, K was all, “I wonder if my worms will like these?”

(that’s how the conversation started, by the way. It’s all coming back to me, now)

Tim and I looked at each other and then looked at B and then K like, “WORMS?”

That’s when K explained the delivery story and compost, yada yada yada.

As B was about to pick up the bowl of artichoke leaves to set aside for the worms, K was all, “Wait…no. I don’t know if they can eat all of that…and besides, I’m not sure what they’ll like…”

We don’t want to stuff them. Or give them something that they will reject. Travesty!

Then, in the middle of the worm shenanigans, Kellan decided he was DONE WITH DINNER and I had to take him to the sink, food falling off of him with every step.

The rest of the evening…wasn’t about worms…though as we were leaving, Tim was holding Kellan and K was upstairs in the loft area that overlooks the downstairs, getting a bath ready for N (their kiddo). Tim started doing a slow wave all, “Goodnight…gooooodniiighttt…..gooooodniiiighhtttt!” and then K stopped and was like, “Isn’t that from the Sound of Music?”

Tim: Yes!

K: I’m not sure what is more disturbing. You singing that or the fact that I knew what you were singing. Let’s never mention this again.

(oops?)

So, on Tim and my way home?

Of course we talked about the worms.

Tim was all, “Did you hear K when N was trying to help and put pieces of ground turkey into the artichoke pile?”

Me: No?….

Tim: Oh, right. You had already gotten up. First, he decided to take N’s leftover peas to give to them worms. Then, as he was picking them out from the pizza pieces on her plate, N decided to try and help and put pieces of ground turkey into the worm food pile and K was like, “N! No! No! The worms are vegetarian! They can’t have turkey!”

This, coming from the same man who received a grain mill for Christmas so he can make beer.

Tim is going to join in on that bit of fun, though, because what guy doesn’t want to MAKE BEER?

Also?

Let’s go back to the worms for just a second.

Someone on this planet one day was like, “Hmmmm….I think I want to sell something on the internet. What should I sell? What should I sell?…Hmm…I KNOW!”

WORMS!

And then there they were.

All wrapped up on B and K’s doorstep.

smack

Scene: on the couch after dinner. Kellan is sitting on a towel on the couch and I am feeding him yobaby peach yogurt because he was hungry.

Me: Aw….Kellan’s tiny smacking sounds while he’s eating are so cute!!

Tim: You never say that about me. So *my* smacking sounds aren’t cute??

Awkward, too long of a pause before answering

Me: …umm….I could say they are but…

Tim: Then you’d be lying.

Me: ….

End scene.