He's Almost Four, You know

Asher turns four in just two short months. So hard to believe.  I mean, just look at this big boy!

He's fully potty trained.  And our POOPIES! issues appear to be finally fading away. (Finally!)

  

Unfortunately, he's still a terrible eater.  He seems to be getting worse in that respect!  I think he does it just to drive me crazy.  He derives a certain pleasure in watching me weep when I'm unable to convince him that homemade chicken tenders are the same as the ones you get at a restaurant.  

 

He's the world's best big brother, though, which more than makes up for the pickiness at dinnertime.  True, he does get very upset when Henry snatches a toy away from him or bites him.  Many screams have been shouted for Mommy or Daddy when this happens, but he never retaliates, which has completely shocked me.  He watches out for his baby brother in the sweetest ways.  Henry gets hurt and Asher kisses his boo boo.  He yells at Henry to stay out of the street and takes his hand to guide him to safety.  And if I get upset with Henry, Asher reminds me that Henry doesn't understand because he's just a baby.

I just adore my little Asher Bug who is getting to be less and less little.

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18 Months With Mr. Pickles

Over the weekend, we finally celebrated Henry's birthday.  He had only turned one in April - we were just a mere six months late in celebrating.  Because Aunt Carolyn's wedding was on his birthday, and the sorrow from Suzanne's recent tragic death was still fresh, we just didn't feel up to celebrating.  Once April passed, I really didn't know when would be the appropriate time for a belated birthday party, if at all.  When Mom said she wanted to have a Halloween party, I realized that coincided with him turning a year and a half, so - voila - it was decided we would  have a Halloween themed birthday party for him.  Unfortunately, I was running around like a mad woman the whole day, so I didn't get any pictures taken myself, and only have a handful that my cousin, Kiley, was nice enough to take.  Oh well.  At least I don't have the guilt of no first birthday party looming over my head anymore. 

 

Henry has been the busiest little boy I've ever known, as well as the most adventurous.  He is not afraid to get dirty.  Animals do not scare him.  Heights and climbing don't phase him one bit.  Getting hurt is no big deal.  He is still afraid of the vacuum cleaner, lawn mower, and pretty much anything else that makes really loud noises, though, which is funny because he's pretty darn loud himself.

One of my favorite things about Henry is his wonderful appetite.  After having a chronic picky eater on my hands for the past three years - really, I have two if you count Stephen - it's an absolute joy to have a child who will EAT!  While Asher's list of what he'll eat continues to dwindle, Henry's grows.  One of his favorite foods is peas - he can't get enough of them - and he'll try things like Brussels Sprouts, meatloaf, and V8 without throwing a fit.  If he doesn't like it, he'll spit it out, but no screaming, no tantrums, and no pleading from us to get him to try something.  Words cannot describe the relief we feel - for the most part, we don't have to make special foods for him at dinnertime and if we go someplace else to eat, chances are very good he will go with the flow and eat whatever we give him.

Henry's personality is really starting to blossom, too.  His sense of humor is budding.  He gives kisses and loves reading books together.  He is rough and tough, but takes time for snuggling a few times a day.  He likes to have his feet tickled and rubs our hands on his face when he's tired.  He shares his big brother's love of trains and cars.  Dancing to Yo Gabba Gabba and singing along to Thomas songs are a couple of his favorite pastimes.

It's the beginning of the end of babyhood for Mr. Pickles.  His speech is becoming less foreign to us - we can now hear him say "cat," "dog," "car," "truck," "train," etc., as well as "Mom," "Dad," and "Ash."  He is following instruction better and better; in fact, before I took the pictures directly above and below, I asked him to sit by the tree and stand by the wall - much to my surprise, he did!  So, he definitely is understanding us better, too - which obviously makes life a teensy bit easier. 

I catch myself often thinking back to two years ago when Asher was Henry's age.  It completely amazes me how much Asher changed between 18 months and two years.  I know Henry is going to sprout just as quickly over the next six months and will be a "big" boy before I know it.  I intend to relish the last few days of his baby-ness as much as I can!

Here are some pictures taken so far from the month of October.  I'll add to them as more are taken.

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Fun Things to Think About Before Bed

It's past midnight and I really should be getting my beauty sleep in preparation for my favorite time of the week - Monday morning, of course - but no. Instead I'm being my usual weirdo self and am lying here thinking up horrible scenarios that could happen at any given moment. I won't talk about my specific morbid thoughts or fears, though - too disturbing. I will say that many of my fears revolve around my kids nowadays and, to me, this is the worst thing about parenthood. 

It's amazing the amount of love you have for your kids. I never ever could imagine the depth of love a parent has until I had children of my own; people talk about it, but you just can't fathom it until it's yours. I mean, all I have to do is look at my kids and my heart skips a beat. Yeah, this love is great and all that, but you know what comes with love - insane amounts of WORRY. And here it is, keeping me up, reminding me of all I could lose if *gulp* something were to happen to either of them. Or BOTH of them! Oh you think NO WAY could something that horrible happen to someone but then you read an article about a woman losing all three of her children thanks to the driver of the car going the wrong way down the highway. Like really - how do such bad things happen? How do you survive that kind of grief? 

Sometimes I think I love my kids too much. Maybe I'm obssessed? Or do all parents go through this agony of worrying? Is there a way to outlet these anxieties, or am I just going to have to bubblewrap my children? Thoughts would be great. I feel like I'm going a little nutty!

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And Then Everything Was OK

I've been in a bit of a funk lately - not constantly, and nothing extreme - just enough of one to be a giant pain in the ass to both myself and my husband. I think it's mainly the bliss of returning to work that's gotten me down; being pulled in five different directions takes some getting used to. I'm sure it's not a new feeling for any parent out there, but it's really been hitting me hard the past week - that I'm not much more than just a mom. Don't get me wrong; being a mom is, in my opinion, the most important and rewarding job one can have, but sometimes, on occasion, I miss being Kim. I miss being able to run to Target on a moment's notice, or spend an hour editing and organizing my photos, or blog about my kid, or do laundry without having to re-fluff the clothes in the dryer ten times before I finally get a chance to fold them, or even just watch thirty minutes of TV that isn't something on Nick Jr. or Sprout. Asher was at the age where we no longer needed to drag five changes of clothes and twenty diapers with us everywhere we went. We didn't really have to plan our outings around his feeding schedule. He can sit up on his own. Get this - he can walk! Then we went back to square one with Henry and are having to adjust to giving up those tiny freedoms again. This time around, though, we are more hopeful because we know it gets better. We know this ball-and-chain phase doesn't last forever and, actually, up until I returned to work, I hadn't even really been bothered much by our return to newbornland.

Returning to work this time around is tougher, though. For one, I know Stephen is at home struggling with caring for two kids. And then, when I get home, I'm now having to split myself between housework and two children. I'm having a hard time accepting the fact that I can't be a good, attentive mom and get all the laundry done, bathroom cleaned, floors swept, etc. I might be able to get some of the laundry done and at least pick up the assortment of toys that were strewn about on the floor that day. And that's about it. As far as doing anything additional that I might want to do, I can forget about it. Henry's screaming at me to pay attention to him, and Asher's about to explode if I don't get another train video lined up for him on the computer.

It's funny, though, how one second I can absolutely feel like I'm going to bash my head through the wall, and then Henry will give me a giant smile (see below) or Asher will tell me he loves me, and then all is right with the world. Amazingly - that's all it takes. I wish there was some way I could bottle those smiles and coos and sweet and funny words that come from my kids and take a hit off of it whenever I need a pick-me-up. Because sometimes when I get that overwhelming anxiety attack, my kids aren't showering me with love. Sometimes they're both screaming at me at the same time, and both have poopy diapers, and both need to be fed. And this is why I have about a million pictures of my smiling babies plastered all over the walls of my house, so that no matter where I am and what kind of wringer they're putting me through, I can glance up, take a deep breath, see my happy babies and remember that I'm not just their mom. I'm a good mom. I may not be able to be in two places at once or have four arms to hold them at the same time or have floors clean enough that they can eat off of, but not once have I drowned them in the bathtub or driven them into a pond of water. I will always remind them of that.

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Teachings of an Older Child

My niece, Ella, along with my sister, recently came home from Virginia for a couple of weeks to visit. I love it when they visit. It's wonderful to see my sis and dote on Ella, but more than that, I love seeing how excited Asher gets over seeing Ella. I'll be honest - when she's around, he's occupied, out from under my feet, clinging to someone else - it's like a mini-vacation for me! She's so good with him, too, and I think she enjoys spending time with him just as much as he enjoys spending time with her. He totally looks up to her. She has had positive influences on him - such as improving his attitude toward toothbrushing and his brushing skills - and some...interesting influences, as well. Like, encouraging the development of an overactive imagination. Never before had Asher been afraid of storms, or of monsters, but since her last visit, I've heard talk of monsters galore, and every time it thunders, he crawls under the table and says he's "skeered." (Which is a little hard to believe when he's laughing while saying it.) Thanks to Ella, Asher is obsessed with tickling Henry ("teekle-teekle-teekle!!!") and playing in our closet. AND, he's been better at playing by himself - like, imaginative, pretend play. The stories and scenarios he comes up with are hilarious, and I just sit and watch him and wonderwhere and when he became so creative. And then there's his language. I swear, his vocabulary has increased tenfold and his speech pattern has improved greatly over the past few weeks. How is that possible? Oh yeah - he's been hanging around with a six-year old.

I seriously wish I could rent her for the summer. Maybe she could convince him to finally try eggs or eat a hotdog. I always hear about the negative influences older kids have on younger siblings, but not so much about the good influences they have. I think Henry is lucky that he'll have a live-in older kid to look up to. (Watch, Asher will be the one to give Henry his first cigarette and beer.)

Come back soon, Ella. We miss you!

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Day Out with Thomas

Yesterday was our big Day Out with Thomas event in Connersville with Marmie, Grandfather, Angela, Rowan, and Lydia. It was a scorcher - around 90 degrees and humid - but I, personally, thought it was well worth the misery to see Asher's excitement over seeing Thomas in person. In case you didn't know, Asher has a little bit of an obsession with Thomas - some of that obsession may have been slightly encouraged by his parents who have bought him about a million and one trains and various other Thomas merchandise *ahem* - but I figured, with my luck, we'd get there and he would be terrified of the life-size Thomas train. Thankfully, he was extremely happy to see Thomas, and it was only Sir Topham Hatt that scared him. Whew! They had all sorts of activities for the kiddos - pony rides, a petting zoo, train tables, etc. - and thankfully, Marmie and Grandfather were there to take him around to do the fun things because someone decided he needed to eat and kept Mommy and Daddy sitting in the back of the van for the first half hour that we were there. So, I didn't get to do any of the fun things with Asher, which was a little disappointing, but I'm glad someone was there to help out and make sure he had a good time! The heat was terrible, but I guess it kept any tantrums over leaving at bay - I think we were all ready to go by the end of the train ride.

Here are pictures. (Mostly taken by Marmie since both of our cameras are currently, conveniently, broken, so thanks to Marmie for being photographer for the day!)

Thank you, Marmie and Grandfather, for such a fun day!

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Can You Spot Where My Genes Enter Into the Family?

We finally had the opportunity to make a trip over to Dayton last Friday in order to visit with Grammy for a couple of hours and introduce her to Henry. Maryann had the idea that we should get a four generational photo of herself, Grammy, Stephen, and the two babies. Asher, of course, decided to be a total spaz and wouldn't cooperate. They threw him out of the picture, so then it was up to Henry to add some flair to the photos.

It was great to get to see Grammy for a bit. Stephen and Asher have been over to visit her a few times over the course of the past few months, but I hadn't seen her since January. Thanks to my maternity leave, hopefully we'll get to squeeze in a few more trips before I go back to work. She'll turn 92 in July, but if you ask me, she doesn't look a day over 80.

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How It's Been

As usual, I've been so far behind on keeping up with this blog. It's not like I've been busy or anything...I've just had a little nine-pound human attached to my boobs for approximately a third of every day the past two and a half weeks. Then, there's the two-year old who is constantly up in my grill wanting to see Baby Brother, touch Baby Brother, squeal in Baby Brother's face, cuddle Baby Brother, or tickle Baby Brother. I'm already running interference between the two boys, and they've only been living together for a couple of weeks. Luckily, so far, it's been good attention Asher has been doling out on Henry, but it's still a lot of work and stress to make sure little Henry doesn't get crushed under all of Asher's good intentions. On top of that, our sweet little toddler has suddenly turned into...well, a toddler. We're pretty sure most of it is his way of dealing with the new addition to the family, but, WOW. Temper tantrums galore. Defiance. Stubborness. Whining. Throwing things. Running around screaming like a banshee. Our pediatrician (and everyone else we've talked to) has assured us this is perfectly normal and said the best thing to do is to stick to our guns when it comes to the rules and to praise, praise, praise him for every little good thing he does to encourage positive behavior. We've been doing this as much as possible, and it seems like as long as we make sure he gets his naps in and smother him with as much attention as possible, life is much easier.

I have to say, knock on wood, things have been going so much better than they did after Asher was born. So far, I haven't had any postpartum depression like I did with Asher. There have been some instances of feeling a little overwhelmed and lonely, but nothing like the completely and utterly lost and hopeless feelings I had two years ago. I was worried that going back to the days of feeding and diapering every few hours would be horribly rough, but surprisingly it's been a groove that's been pretty easy to slip back into. I don't know if it's simply the fact that we've done it before and know what to expect, or that Henry is (so far) a VERY easygoing baby, or that Stephen has been home more than he was in the first few months after Asher was born, or maybe even the time of year has made things more pleasant - Asher was born at the beginning of dreary January, which kept us pretty much hibernating indoors, whereas we have the windows open now and can smell the neighbors' flowers and hear the birds chirping. My recovery has been MUCH shorter and less painful this time around, too...it's easy to sink into depression when you physically feel like you've had a semi-truck crash out of your lady parts. I also am very happy to report that nursing is (again, so far) much easier this time around. It feels much more natural this time - i.e., I don't feel like a chew toy. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that Henry doesn't turn into the little badger that Asher was, but it's nice to know that breast pump is around if I need it! Although, I will admit, I do occasionally pump just to give myself a break every once in awhile. Besides, I think it's nice to let Daddy have some feeding time, too.

Henry had his two week checkup last week, and he's apparently pretty perfect. His weight was up to nine pounds (50th percentile), and his height is up to 21.75 inches (90th percentile). We'll see the doc again in a couple of weeks for his one-month checkup.

Hopefully I'll get a chance to post pictures up from the past couple of weeks pretty soon, but in the meantime, I've finally gotten the pictures uploaded that were taken during our hospital stay.

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Our Little Henry

I was dilated to 6-7 when my blood pressure started dropping, which cause the baby's heart rate to do funky things. I was given oxygen and blood pressure medication to help me out. The nurse kept asking if I felt any pressure "downstairs" - after about fifteen minutes, I did. She did another check and found that I'd jumped to 10 cm. and the baby was right there, ready to greet us.

After 20 minutes of pushing, Henry Major Barr was born at 3:15 p.m. He weighed in at 8 pounds, 10 ounces, and was 21 inches long. He's very handsome, bearing a striking resemblance to our other very handsome son. Only difference is, Henry has a full head of hair, whereas his big brother had just this funny patch of hair on the back of his head. Henry is currently styling a faux-hawk, thanks to the nurse who gave him his first bath. Now, the nursery nurses don't want to put a hat on him for fear of messing up his adorable hair-do.

Henry is a family name on both sides of the family, and Major is my father-in-law's middle name. I'd always thought it was a cool name, and he's a pretty cool guy, so we thought it was a cool choice for Henry's middle name, too.

I'm flat-out exhausted, considering I only got a couple of hours of sleep last night and no naps today, coupled with the fact that I just birthed a human being. Other than that, no pain yet and all my vitals have been great. Henry is having his blood sugar monitored like crazy since he's a little large for his age and even had a half a bottle earlier to bring him up to par, but other than that, he's perfect.

More pictures and updates to follow!

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The Beginning of the End

I'm at the hospital, trying my best to type without pulling the IV out of my arm, "enjoying" the last moments of my second pregnancy. It's been a rough one - not the pregnancy itself, but the time period during which the pregnancy has taken place has really kinda sucked. I've beaten myself up a little bit over the fact that I haven't documented this pregnancy the way I did Asher's, but I guess my priorities had to lie in taking care of myself and my family, rather than in blogging. It's funny, though; both pregnancies have been so similar that, in a way, it's like both are documented through my first pregnancy postings. I had very similar issues with nausea during the first & second trimesters. Both pregnancies were complication-free. I've had heartburn and backaches with both. My weight gain has been very similar as the first's. Both of my babies practically outgrew my uterus.

There have been some minor differences, though. My appetite hasn't been quite as good as it was during the first pregnancy. It seems like heartburn has been more of a constant this time around. I don't recall really having any cravings with Asher, but with this kid I've been on a non-stop chocolate binge. I think I've been much more tired and achy during this pregnancy, too, but that's probably due to the fact that I'm chasing around after a toddler and have had a lot of crap to deal with that I didn't have during the first.

I'm more ready for this pregnancy to end than I was during my first. Because so little was going on back then - no other child or drama occupying my time - I tended to dwell on every little part of my pregnancy. I loved being pregnant and carrying around the baby inside of me. I know I'm going to miss feeling Retus moving around inside, I'm going to miss that bond that a mother feels while carrying her child. But my body is SO DARN TIRED and worn out that I've really been prevented from enjoying being pregnant as much as I was with Asher.

Although I'm probably not quite as nerve-wracked as I was about my first delivery, I'm a lot more nervous than I thought I would be. I spent so much time preparing, studying, and bracing myself for Asher that, even though I didn't know firsthand what to expect, I felt somewhat prepared. This time, due to having done it before and having everything else occupy all my time and attention, I really haven't spent any time at all preparing myself for Retus' arrival. (1) Everything went so smoothly with Asher that I'm scared the opposite will happen with this one. (2) Even though I've gone through caring for a newborn just two years ago, I think I've blocked it all out of my mind. It was my only defense! Shit, we're talking about sore nipples, feedings every two hours, and a child who can't hold his own head up. Explosive diapers! Engorgement of boobs! Postpartum depression! Feeling literally anchored to your child! Am I ready for all of this again?! I mean, Asher can feed himself, and he SPEAKS! Of course, Asher can also outrun me at the store and jump out of the cart. It will be kinda nice to have a baby that just lies wherever you put him again.

I'm very excited about meeting Retus, though, and introducing him to our family. For some reason, I figured I wouldn't feel as much excitement over the second baby, and happily I can say I was completely wrong. The Pitocin is freely flowing into my veins now, so it'll only be a short matter of time until I get to hold my new little sweetie!

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12 Weeks Gives Us a Happy Anniversary

Some people seem to think I've crawled into a hole and died this past month, and really, they aren't too far off. I've frankly been way too busy to keep up in the electronic world recently. Busy throwing up. Busy feeling like I'm going to throw up. Busy trying to figure out what the hell I can eat because if I don't eat something RIGHT NOW my stomach will growl and will make me throw up but I can't find anything to eat because EVERYTHING makes me want to throw up...So, essentially, my battle is deciding whether I want to vomit from hunger pangs or from the smell or taste of food.

We found out on August 15 that we're expecting another baby in mid-April, and I swear that day I started feeling the symptoms. That's about a month and a half of feeling like pure death warmed over. People have asked if I was this sick with Asher, and honestly I'm not sure. It's funny - I loved being pregnant with Asher, and now that I'm going through it all again, I think I must have been high to have loved this! Of course, what I remember most about my previous pregnancy are the last two trimesters - after the sickness phase was over and I could feel Asher move around inside of me and I watched my belly grow plump. You tend to forget the horrible parts. I'm hoping I'll eventually have another pleasant pregnancy once this stage is over. I think the bad symptoms have been a little different between pregnancies, though. I had horrible nausea with him, but I didn't throw up too much, and when I did, it was usually due to my gag reflex being on overdrive (stupid toothbrush). This time around, the vomiting is FOR REAL. Plus, I've had horrendous heartburn, worse than I had in my ninth month with Asher. I was flat-out exhausted the last time and just wanted to sleep all the time. So far with this pregnancy, I'm physically exhausted, but I don't feel the same type of sleepy-tired that I felt last time. My appetite is the same as last time - food in general sounds disgusting to me and I'm literally having to force myself to eat. It's definitely been more tiresome going through this with a toddler to deal with, but luckily I have the best husband and mom ever who have made it so that I hardly have to lift a finger when it comes to taking care of Asher. Stephen takes care of everything from bathing to feeding to appeasing Asher in the evenings, and on the weekends, since Stephen works, I've been going to Mom's and allowing her to entertain and care for Asher while I moan and groan from the sofa. It's pretty pathetic and I'm not exactly proud of myself, but what's a sick girl to do? One thing that has been good about having Asher around while I'm going through this is that he is living proof that my sick days will end and it will all totally be worth it in the end. All he has to do is flash me one of those goofy, cheeky smiles, and suddenly I don't feel like jumping out of the window anymore.

I think the end of the worst of the first trimester woes is nearing, though, THANK YOU, GOD. Over the past couple of weeks, I've slowly felt my energy levels increase, I've been able to eat a little bit more of a variety of food, I haven't been throwing up as much, and nausea doesn't consume my body every second of the day anymore. I had my doubts, but I think I might make it through this, after all.

As is to be expected, most people are primarily concerned with the gender of this baby and this turns out to be the focus of most conversations I've had about my pregnancy, whether it be their prediction regarding what it is or their curiosity regarding what we want, or even their opinion as to what THEY want us to have. Since we had a boy the last time, of course nearly every single person is certain that we will/should have a girl this time around. Honestly, I feel the exact same way I did last time I was pregnant regarding this issue - and even more strongly since I just witnessed what my dear friend went through when she lost her babies during pregnancy - I JUST WANT A HEALTHY BABY. I love having a son and would be very happy if Asher gets a little brother to play with. A girl would be great, too - I'm just a little concerned I might spend a bit too much money shopping for her! We won't find out the sex for a couple of months, but rest assured, I'm not going to lose any sleep hoping for one gender over another.

It's funny - I assumed because I'd been through this before that I wouldn't worry much this time around. I feel almost like I worry more now than I did during my first pregnancy...maybe not about things like nutrition or sleeping on one side as opposed to another, but more about all the things that didn't go wrong during my first pregnancy that SURELY in my mind will go wrong this time. From the health of the baby, to the delivery, to having a pretty good-tempered baby, I got lucky once, something's got to give this time! And then I worry about silly stuff like not paying enough attention to Asher, "cheating" him out of love and time, messing up our family's ecosystem with a new addition...all those worries I've heard most people have during their second pregnancies.

Today we had our second prenatal exam. The first one was with the nurse practitioner, so this time we got to meet our new doctor (we weren't impressed by any means with the doctor I saw during my first pregnancy). She is AWESOME. I think I'm going to love her - she is soft-spoken, calm, sweet, has a good sense of humor, listens and encourages us to ask questions and actually talks to us, and just overall makes me feel at ease. Plus, she is around our age and has two boys who are four and two, so she seems to really "get" all the concerns we have. My urine checked out, my blood pressure checked out, my weight was down a little from last time, but that's normal with all the nausea, and my uterus "felt great." We got to listen to Doodlebug's heartbeat for the first time, too - which was very strong at 166 beats per minute - MAN, talk about hammering the nail of reality in my heart. I'M NOT TERMINALLY ILL AFTER ALL! THERE REALLY IS A BABY INSIDE OF ME! It's funny how much those few seconds of listening to a swish-swish sound has changed my outlook and put things into perspective. All of this suffering has a purpose. A person is growing inside of me and it's just as magical as it was when Asher was in there. Now that I've heard the proof of my unborn child's existence, I'm overcome with feelings of excitement and happiness. Those feelings of IS IT EVER GOING TO END and WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE are quickly diminishing. Today is our seventh wedding anniversary, and what a perfect gift this was for the both of us.

It's hard to imagine me being a parent to two children; sometimes I feel like I can barely keep up with one. But even despite my feelings of guilt from bringing another child into Asher's world, I know it's going to be a wonderful thing. Asher will have a playmate, someone he can confide in and complain about his crazy parents to. I really do think he'll love having a sibling, and I know Doodlebug is going to be very blessed to have him as an older brother; it's just a matter of me getting past my motherly guilt that I'm so full of.

One thing is for certain: they were right about showing earlier after your first pregnancy. Here I am, just barely twelve weeks along, with a baby bump clearly making its presence known. Yes, I've already broken into the maternity clothes!

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NeeNee The Corruptor Strikes Again

When my sister and I were little, we loved it when Mom would make us a special treat of coffee milk - basically, half milk, half coffee, with sugar, of course! I still to this day LOVE coffee milk.

During brunch on Sunday, Ella got her mug of coffee milk, while Asher got his sippy cup of juice. Apparently, NeeNee found this to be highly unfair. This was not surprising, considering the fact that I was chastised for being an unfun mom at Bob Evan's the morning before because I ordered Asher white milk instead of chocolate and informed her he never gets chocolate milk, unless it's just a drink from my glass. It's not that I'm anti-sugar, or anti-junk food - I'm a believer that if you're too strict about things like that, it could easily backfire. But, I figure while I'm still making his food choices for him, before he can tell me what he wants, I'll try to be as healthy as I can. You know, as healthy as you can be with a steady diet of chicken nuggets, french fries, and no vegetables. Anyway, NeeNee decided it was time to break out the ultra-dorky-but-funny cowboy coffee mug we found for Cowboy Asher at Goodwill last year and give Asher his first mug of delicious coffee milk. At least I can say it was decaf.

Asher thought it was the BEST STUFF EVER. He couldn't suck it fast enough. And guess what happened not more than twenty minutes later? Yep - poopies.

First ice cream, then soda, now coffee. What's next? Beer? Cigarettes? Porn?

It's no wonder why kids love their grandparents so darn much.

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Big Sister Cousins Are Awesome

My sister and niece have FINALLY come home from Virginia for a visit! We hadn't seen them since Thanksgiving - which is way too long to go without seeing your sister and niece, if you ask me. This had been the longest amount of time I've ever gone without seeing either Jamie or Ella, and I didn't like it one bit. When you've been apart from most people for that long, I always think it's kind of awkward at first when you see each other. But nope, not with them. Ella came barging into my bedroom and started yapping away to me like she just saw me yesterday, and Jamie and I acted as bored as usual to see each other. That's the great thing about family - you don't have to pretend.

Asher was SO excited to be around Ella. They arrived by train SUPER early on Saturday morning (around 5 a.m.), so Asher and I were still in bed when they got to our house. They came in and woke us up just before eight, and usually Asher is a total grumpersaurus if you wake him up. But the second he flopped over and saw Ella's face, he sat straight up, got a huge cheeky grin, and started kicking his crazy legs like mad. And that's pretty much how he was the whole time around her.

We have lots of fun things planned for their visit home. This Friday, we're going to The Children's Museum, next Thursday we're going to the zoo, and next Friday we're going to make some pottery and go to Chuck E. Cheese. I love it when Jamie and Ella visit. Not only is it awesome to see them, but we all actually go out and do activities as a family. Who knew I'd miss doing things together as a family so much? Ten years ago, going to Chuck E. Cheese with my parents and sister would have sounded like cruel and unusual punishment.

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40 Years Strong

I love my husband to pieces. I really, really do. We began dating our senior year of high school, dated all through college, married after six years of dating, and now have been married for seven years. As much as I'm still in love with him as I ever was, I can't imagine being married to him for forty years. Of course, I can't even imagine myself living for forty years! I guess the next ten years will prove if I can even handle that, let alone maintain my marriage vows.

Stephen's wonderful parents have successfully survived forty years of marriage, and who knows? I think they could survive forty more. If nothing else, I think they'd do it just to drive each other insane. Really, though, this is an amazing feat in this day when the divorce rate is taking over the lead from the rate of successful marriages - I'm really proud of them.

Our gift to them was to "loan" them our baby for a couple of nights this week. Asher will be spending tonight and Wednesday night with them. Nothing puts you in the mood quite like chasing around a toddler all day. Which is exactly the point, Maryann: maybe Joe will leave you alone tonight and you can get some rest!

Happy slightly belated anniversary to my favorite in-laws!

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Bye Bye, Wesley

Stephen's younger brother, Wesley, was home for the past week and a half from San Francisco visiting family and friends. We were able to visit with him briefly on several occasions during his stay, but, unfortunately, between my working, not feeling well, and Asher's sometimes-not-so-pleasant disposition, we didn't get to spend a whole lot of time with him. No going out for a drink or to English Ivy's for some kick-ass bar food. Bummer.

We were happy to learn that he's planning on coming back for Christmas, though, so we won't have to wait a whole year before seeing him again. I'm sure Asher will be very happy about this. Uncle Wes and Asher seemed to get along really well - they watched Thomas the Tank Engine and Ernest Goes to Jail together, lunched together, and Uncle Wes even read to him. It was the cutest thing ever.

We look forward to seeing you later this year, Wesley - thanks for visiting us! Maybe we can plan a little trip out west before that...Lord knows we could use a vacation!

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A Rare Photo of the Three of Us Together

I've hung close to a trillion photos in our house over the past couple of months and have discovered something strange - there is a disturbingly low number of photos of the three of us together. There is no shortage in the number of Asher pictures (duh). There is a good amount of pictures of Stephen with Asher, and a fair number of pictures of me with Asher. But of the three of us, together? Honestly, I think the last picture that was taken of our family was from July. Sad, sad, sad.

My goal is to have more pictures taken of us, which may involve me harassing you to be the photographer. This photo was taken by my mom the day before Mother's Day. Next time, maybe I'll be smart enough to suggest we face something other than the sun in our photo.

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Think This Is Bad? You Should See the Other Guy

My baby niece has recently lost her first tooth! Okay, seriously - didn't she just get teeth? I mean, my memory of her being all gummy and toothless is still pretty strong. For crying out loud...I guess she is five and a half!

Thanks to my sister for sending this picture. I hear Ella is very proud of her new hooligan-smile. She should be. The little stinker couldn't be any cuter!

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Where Would We Be Without Mommies?

This was my second Mother's Day as a mom. We did nothing too crazy, just went to my mom's for the weekend, ate a lot of good food, did some serious napping - the usual stuff we do when we go home. I've got to say I'm feeling a lot more comfortable in my role as Mom than I was feeling last year; I definitely feel like a mom now, and although I can't say I've completely got my shit together, I feel like I'm handling the mess of life a lot better than I was a year ago. Motherhood still seemed pretty crazy and unknown last year. I've now gotten to know that craziness extremely well and have become best friends with it; in fact, I'm not sure how I ever functioned without it.

I have to give many thanks to my mom for the wonderful job she's always done in dealing with the chaos of motherhood. I could not have asked for a better mom, not only for myself, but for Asher, too. I feel like I'm doing a pretty darn good job so far of being a mom, and a huge reason for that is because my mother was such a good role model for me when I was growing up. She is still the first person I turn to for advice and reassurance with my own parenting - she always seems to have all the right answers and, no matter what, she always makes me feel 110% better. Always. I think that, right there, is a huge sign that you're an excellent mother - when even at thirty years old, your child still fully believes that you are one of the wisest people to have ever walked the planet. Of course, it could also just be a huge sign that you've done a perfect job of brainwashing your child, but at this point, does it really matter? Someone thinks you rock - that's all that counts!

Thanks to all the moms out there for all the hard work you do. Mothers really do make the world a better, brighter, and less scary place!

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Missing My Niece

While on my quest to find what are apparently rare photos of me and Stephen as a couple, I've become distracted, as is typical of me. Heaven forbid I have a goal in mind and focus on it. Going through my photos, I've discovered that a large chunk of them are of Ella when she was a baby. The above picture particularly melted my heart - this was taken on Christmas Day of 2003, when Ella was about five weeks old. I remember during those first few months after she was born I was absolutely obsessed with that little girl - buying her clothes, thinking of her, visiting her almost every weekend, and even dreaming of her - Stephen said there were several times in the middle of the night I would tell him in my sleep to be careful not to roll over on the baby. I was so excited for each of her first milestones - her first crawl, her first teeth, her first steps, her first words. Anyway, this picture pretty much sums up how enamored with Ella I was.

Now Ella has been living in Virginia for over a year, and I haven't seen her in six months. I had a conversation with her on Easter, and I'm absolutely amazed by how much she's growing up. She is going to be starting kindergarten in the fall and turning six in November - how is this even possible?! I'd been okay with her living so far away up until the past week or two. I don't know why, maybe it was the conversation we had on Easter, but I've suddenly really been missing my little niece more than usual. Like, a TON. Like, so much that looking at these pictures of her is making me cry. I think the reality of her growing up and the distance is finally sinking in. I've been so crazy the past year with the chaos of being a new mom that I hadn't had much time or energy to really realize how much this sucks. I hate it that there's so much separation between us now. I hate it that I haven't seen her in half a year. I hate the thought that once she starts school, I will probably see even less of her. I hate it that Asher is missing out on developing a close relationship with his cousin.

I'm feeling a bit like when I was ten and Jamie was seven and I'd want to play with her Barbie doll. Back then, I could just take it away from her. Tell her to suck it up, or I wouldn't play with her. Oh yeah, and she has to play with the amputee Ken doll, too - I get the one with both legs.

Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure things might not be so simple anymore. I'm almost certain that stomping my feet and throwing myself down on the floor and screaming, "IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!" isn't going to help matters, either. Jamie, if you were looking for revenge regarding the Ken doll situation, I think you found it.

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Asher Freaks Out the Ladies...AGAIN

Friday night, my dad and step-mom came up to see the house and pay a visit to Asher. It had been a long time since we'd seen them - since August - so we were really happy to have them over. They brought along a special treat for Asher, which was his cousin, Kayleigh. She is the daughter of my step-brother, Jason, and is only three weeks younger than Asher.

Asher was absolutely fascinated with Kayleigh, but he's definitely got a lot of learning to do when it comes to how to treat women. First off, SHARE YOUR TOYS, Asher. He didn't fuss at all when she'd try to play with his toys; no, he'd just toddle over to her and YANK them right out of her hands. Or, he'd use the even more subtle tactic of simply pushing her out of the way. Granted, he's not used to being around other kids, but apparently Kayleigh isn't, either, and she was just as sweet as pie, not only sharing her toys, but also not crying when Asher would take them away from her. Second, TAKE IT SLOWLY IN THE PHYSICAL DEPARTMENT, Asher. He was in her poor little face nearly the entire time; if he wasn't stealing her toys or pushing her, he was hugging her, kissing her, grabbing her, pulling her down, or even tackling her. That's right - my son knocked her down and climbed up on her at least twice. She was a pretty good sport, though; much more tolerant than I would have been. I really, really hope he gets some better manners by the time prom rolls around.

I learned from hanging out with Kayleigh for a few hours that what everyone tells me seems to be true: boys and girls are different. I couldn't get over how calm she was; she would sit and play with one toy for a couple of minutes, would sit on my lap without squirming, would come when you called her name, was extremely gentle with everything. Asher, on the other hand, is like a constant ball of motion. He's grabby, rough, wiggly, squirmy, always on the go and busy trying to climb things. He's too busy most of the time to pay any attention to us when we call for him, and play with just one toy for longer than two seconds? That's crazy talk! Any time I've complained about this to other people, I typically get the same "oh well he's just being a boy!" response. Before, that really meant nothing to me. But, if Kayleigh is a good example of how most girl babies are, then yeah...I guess they are different.

Asher had a great visit with everyone, aside from the fact that he wouldn't go near my dad for most of the time. Maybe if it's not another seven months before we see Grandpa and Grandma again, he'll warm up to Grandpa sooner. Asher did wear his motorcycle jammies just for Grandpa, though, so Grandpa shouldn't feel too slighted. Hopefully, Kayleigh will forget how handsy Asher is and will be agreeable to another date in the near future. She wasn't totally miserable around him, though - as you can see in the below picture, she not only let Asher kiss her goodnight, but she actually enjoyed it. In fact, she let him lick/kiss her cheek many times before we finally pulled him off of her.

(Oh, and about the picture above: everyone was waving bye bye. Grandma and Grandpa probably won't be too happy about the silly picture of them, but hey, sorry - the kids look cute. Plus, it's the best group picture I was able to get of everyone. Darn babies and their great skill at being uncooperative during picture time...)

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