God Loves Henry

We had Mr. Henry Pickles baptized on Sunday. It was a very nice day - our baby was blessed, we ate lots of good food, we visited with our closest family and friends, and Henry got presents. Oh, and there was yummy cake, too. We're very lucky to have such a great family to share this special day with us.

(FYI, The 38-year old baptismal gown that Henry is wearing has been worn by Stephen and all of his siblings, as well as Angela's two children and Asher. Is it wrong that I have looked forward to my children's baptisms, not so much because of the salvation it represents, but because it's the only chance I'll have to dress my boys in gowns??)

See pictures here!

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Smiles!

Henry has been smiling more and more over the past couple of weeks, even when pooping isn't involved! Here's a little video with a few smiles in it that Mom recorded this evening while I was burping Henry.

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The Past Two Months

I'll admit, I feel pretty guilty about not giving Henry the face time that I've always given Asher on here. In my defense, Henry, this should show you what a good parent I've been - my time and attention has been pretty focused on more important things, like feeding you every 2-3 hours, changing your diaper every 2-3 hours, soothing you when you cry, picking up the house, doing laundry, wrangling your monkey brother...you know, parent-y things. Of course, there's also been the fact that I ran out of storage space on Google over a month ago and couldn't upload anymore pictures. Oops. Well, we've finally resolved that issue, so now I can slowly start sharing pictures from the past couple of months. That is, if you boys can coordinate a long enough nap at the same time for me to accomplish such a feat...

As I expected, my maternity leave is totally flying by and leaving me in the dust, struggling to slow things down and enjoy every precious second. Fat chance of that happening. For one, because I'm off of work, we've been trying to cram all the visiting with family and running around in that we can since we won't be able to do once I'm back on a grown-up schedule. Two, because Stephen works during the weekends, I've been packing up and spending many of these weekends at my mom's, so I can get some much-needed assistance with caring for two little ones. Surprisingly, that adjustment hasn't been as tough as I thought it would be. Luckily, Asher is, usually, a pretty good little boy who doesn't require constant attention from us, and he seems to understand (usually) that Henry needs more care from us than he does, so he's been good about sharing his parents with his brother. I've been so much more calm with Henry than I was when Asher was a newborn. Like, I know that a poopy diaper can wait a few minutes until we reach our destination in the car. Or, there's the fact that Henry isn't going to shrivel up if he has to wait ten minutes for me to finish my dinner before he gets fed. I also know that a little crying is normal, babies are a lot tougher than they appear to be, and they don't have to be held 100% of the time. Of course there are still things I'm struggling with...like how to entertain a newborn. I'm feeling the exact same frustration I felt when Asher was a newborn - how do you play with a slug? I want to interact with him, to teach him, to play with him...but, all he wants to do is sleep, eat, poop, and be cuddled. It's starting to get better, though...he's beginning to smile and coo, so I know he's starting to come out of the "blob of baby" phase.

Asher is still totally in love with Baby Brother and constantly wants to hug, kiss, and pat Henry on the head. Our biggest fight right now is keeping Asher off Henry...his love sometimes hurts. He's a very caring big brother: he fetches pacifiers, sings Henry songs, and shares his toys with him. Now I just need to teach him how to change diapers...

Henry has been a great little baby. He's very easygoing, cuddly, not too fussy, and doesn't treat me like a chew toy when I feed him. He's sleeping for 3-6 hours at a time at night, and I usually end up getting around eight hours of sleep total, so I haven't been too much of a zombie. He's really chubbed up nicely over the past nine weeks, too, and has managed to keep his head full of luxurious hair. He has his two-month check-up on Monday, and on Sunday he's going to be baptized. Yet another busy weekend is ahead of us!

Here are pictures from April and pictures from May.

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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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Now I Know How It Feels to Have a Wet Diaper

They just broke my water, and I have one thing to say: GROSS! The brilliancy that flies out of my mouth to the doctor? "That is so disgusting. I can't remember the last time I peed my pants, but I bet that's what it feels like."

Duh.

My contractions are definitely getting stronger now and I'm dilated to four. I think it's almost time for the magic of Mr. Epidural. But not quite yet. I'm having way too much fun. I figure as long as my hunger pangs are stronger than the pain from contractions, I'm OK.

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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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He's No Fool

Stephen: Asher, tell Mommy what we're having for dinner.

Asher: Um, Lucky Charms!

Stephen: No Lucky Charms...(Points to rotisserie chicken.)

Asher: Chicken!

Stephen: Yes, chicken! And what else? (Points to box of rice.)

Asher: Rice! Yay!

Stephen: Right! And what else? Are we going to have some rolls?

Asher: Yes! Rolls!

Stephen: And what else?

Asher: Um...Lucky Charms?

Stephen: No...*whispers* Beans?

Asher: Um...No thank you!

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It's Sing-a-Long Time

I'm realizing more and more that, as a parent, you really have to have something that records video on you at all times. This is a prime example.

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Fine Example of the Things a Working Parent Misses Out on

Here are Asher and his beloved cousins having a dance-off this afternoon.

Sure, the kids are cute, but being in the office is SO rewarding.

*sigh*

Thanks to Stephen for the much-needed dose of cuteness!

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Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

Well I thought that I had made a post but I guess it didn't take. This just goes to show that I need to do this more often. Here's what I had written:

I'm home after a painful week at the hospital. I now have three weeks of doing nothing but put my foot in the air. I already feel awful about all the stuff Kim now has to do while all I can do is sit on my ass.

I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I wish I could do more.

Dad was here today and did an excellent job of getting me the few things I needed and also corralling the quickly building fury that is Asher. Thanks for your help, Dad, and I look forward to more quality help in the very near future. Angie will be here for the next two days and I know Kim is looking forward to some more femininity in the house.

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The Old Rocker

This little red rocker may not look like much, but it has a lot of sentimental value. It was originally my grandfather's chair when he was little, then was my mom's, then mine, and now it's Asher's. It had been sitting in my garage for the past couple of years - I think since I was pregnant or since Asher was newly born - in dire need of some major TLC, as one of the runners was broken. Stephen finally took it to his dad, who is far more talented than Bob Villa, and in no time at all, he had it back in perfect working order. Is it any wonder I love my father-in-law so much??

Asher is so excited to have a little chair that's his size. This evening, he wanted to watch "Brown" - which is what he calls Charlie Brown, with whom he's developed a strange obsession since we first watched "A Charlie Brown Christmas" this year - so we placed his chair in front of the TV, and there he sat for at least ten minutes without moving. (That's like two hours in toddler years.)

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Yes - I'm a Big, Fat Slacker

Yes, I'm well aware - it's been a ridiculous amount of time since I've posted. I could blame it on the early pregnancy nausea - how, there for an amount of time that seemed like an eternity or two, I felt like I was dying and couldn't stand even the thought of touching the computer after being on it all day at work. I could also blame it on the fact that, just as I was starting to emerge from the horrible first trimester crud, we moved. Moving requires packing and unpacking and who do you think did the majority of that grunt work? I wish I could say it was Stephen! Then came the holidays...first, Thanksgiving, which we had at our house a mere three weeks after we moved in. So between the move and Thanksgiving, there was a buttload of unpacking and organizing and painting that had to be done. Christmas came next quickly, after hours of shopping, wrapping, visits with family and friends, card making and addressing (the mailing of them, unfortunately, didn't occur until NEW YEARS). New Years and Asher's birthday wrapped up the busy season, and surprisingly, I'M GLAD IT'S ALL OVER. I'm usually so depressed when the holiday season ends, but I'm so thankful to be able to breathe a little again. In the mess of all that, Stephen worked almost every weeknight and weekend for a month, and...did I mention I'm pregnant? Even with all the motivation I've been feeling to go-go-go, I just can't-can't-can't. 9:30-10:00 rolls around and I'm ready to call it quits.

Anyway, long story short, something had to give. And that something was the blog. And everyone else's blogs. And FaceBook. And e-mail. And photography. And pretty much anything that I used to do in my spare time that I enjoyed. There's only so much time in the day, and only so much energy to go around, and the list of to-do's only seems to grow.

But! It's a new year and what do you do at the start of a new year? That's right - make resolutions you probably can't or won't keep! One of my resolutions is to start doing some of those things again that I enjoy, now that life isn't so hectic. Of course, there are still 20,000 things that need to be done around the house...not to mention, there will be a new BABY joining our crew in just three months. Gee, that won't make life more hectic or anything...

I hope to post both a pregnancy update soon as well as a belated happy second birthday post for Asher Bug. No promises, but I'll try...In the meantime, here's a sneak peek of my Retus-the-Fetus belly and my little birthday bug...

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Fall Has Officially Fallen

On Sunday, Mom, Bob, Stephen, and Asher managed to pry my sorry, pregnant butt off the sofa for a few hours of autumn celebration at the local pumpkin patch. Asher had fun playing on all the toys, wandering through the corn maze (which we were delighted to find our way out of...until we discovered we'd exited through the entrance), taking a hay ride to the pumpkin patch and picking out a couple of pumpkins, and sipping on cider. His favorite part, by far, was looking at the farm animals. He liked petting the goats and quacking at the ducks, but the crowing roosters were, by far, tops in his book. I had to stand by him for what seemed like eons as those stupid birds cocka-doodle-dooed. That was apparently the funniest and most fascinating thing he'd ever in his life experienced. Watching him imitate them and belt out repeated belly laughs was the funniest and most fascinating thing I've ever experienced.

We had a very nice time welcoming Fall, especially considering the fact that the temperature was only in the mid-fifties. All of us broke out our heavier jackets, gloves, and hats. All of us except for Stephen, of course. He was perfectly comfortable in a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved polo. WEIRDO.

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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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When Good Drugs Do Bad Things

Poor Asher Bug. A few weeks ago, he came down with a cold that only seemed to get worse, so we took him to the doctor and found out it was developing into an ear infection. The doctor prescribed him a strong dose of Amoxicillin, which he was supposed to take for ten days. The cold cleared right up, and Asher quit tugging on his ears after a few days.

On the evening of day seven of his medication (last night), I noticed a few red bumps on his cheek and legs. I didn't worry much about it and figured they were bug bites. This morning, however, red welts had taken over his sweet creamy complexion. After another trip to the doctor, we were informed that Asher is allergic to Penicillin. Although he'd taken it a few months ago, that dosage was not as strong as this one, so it caused no allergic reaction - or, at least, none that we noticed. The doctor said the symptoms of this type of allergy usually don't appear for 5-7 days, which is just great, considering the fact that, had we known sooner, we could have quit his medicine sooner. Like I didn't feel bad enough forcing him to take that horrible tasting medicine in the first place - now I feel like I've been poisoning him. A mother's guilt is a wonderful thing.

We're to give him a teaspoon of Benadryll every 4-6 hours for the next three days and he should be just dandy. Of course, he hates the Benadryll - maybe even more than he hated the Amoxicillin - so at least we weren't freed of the joy of tormenting our child. We aren't completely horrible people, though; we're going to give him oatmeal baths every night until his rash goes away, which he really seems to enjoy.

My poor boy looks like a burn victim. I hope it clears up soon.

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He's Got Rhythm

We were upstairs playing this evening when "Everything" by Michael Bublé came on the radio. Asher stopped what he was doing to perform this lovely little dance:

Now we know he has good taste in music and sweet dancing skills.

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Triking

The Easter Bunny (aka, NeeNee) gave Asher this (pre-)tricycle for Easter. For whatever reason, probably mainly because we're ungrateful bastards, it's mainly just been collecting dust in the garage. Tonight I decided Asher needs to learn to ride it. Why? Because the messes he causes with his crayons, balls, and push toys have become so predictable. He's ready for a new weapon of destruction. And I'm just plain crazy.

He still hasn't fully caught on to pedaling - I think he's perfectly content to have Daddy push him around - and the steering system frustrates him to the point of madness. That's right - about five minutes after this snippet was taken, this angelic, smiling little boy picked up his trike and threw it to the floor because he couldn't figure out how the steering worked. What a lack of patience. This boy is not my son. No, not at all.

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Nineteen Months Old

He's made it past the hump and is now closer to age two than age one!

I'm finally finding myself starting to replace the word "baby" with "boy" or "son" or "child" when referring to him. And I haven't even had to force myself. Wow, it's like the realization that he's growing up is sinking in and isn't being completely rejected by my mind. Maybe there is hope for me after all? Maybe Asher won't have to battle his mother to allow him to take someone other than her as his prom date! Well, now I'm getting a little ahead of myself, aren't I? I really don't want to make any promises I can't keep.

This has been a really super fast month; I don't know where the summer has gone. One day it was July 4th, the next day, it's August 5th. I don't know what we've done over the month - it's really stupid, I honestly can't recall! I feel like I'm in a daze lately, just going through the motions like a robot. I'm sure a lot of it has to do with the fact that I'm so tired lately; I'm not sure if it's a slight case of insomnia, or stress, or just the fact that I've been staying up way too late. All I know is, I'M TIRED. Of course, it could have absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that I live with a little guy who makes monkeys look lazy and sluggish.

Asher's eating is the same - particular and finicky - but I've just about given up on caring. You only want to eat three kernels of corn and a lick of your chicken for dinner? Fine by me! I've realized that if I think of him as having five small feedings instead of three meals and a couple of snacks, I feel better and more relaxed about his eating habits.

He is talking more and more. The vast majority of it you cannot understand, but he is a nonstop chatterbox. He points at just about everything and always has something to say about it. I'm enjoying this because this is the brief stage when everyone thinks he's so cute when he's "talking" and that overweight man sitting next to us cannot understand that Asher is calling him fat. He's imitating what we say so much now that I'm trying my hardest to break my fond addiction of swearing. It's a sacrifice I'm willing to make after hearing Mom's story about me, as a toddler, calling a woman a bitch at the grocery store.

What I'm really loving, though, is watching Asher's interests blossom. Of course he's into everything right now - a shredded piece of tissue on the floor is pretty fascinating to him. But there are definitely certain things that peak his interests more than others. He LOVES to color and draw. He LOVES to play ball. He LOVES to play with his Megabloks. He LOVES reading - and lately he seems to enjoy reading to himself more than us reading to him. His biggest obsession of all, though, is MATCHBOX CARS. He carries these cars around with him everywhere. Every night I find them all (or most of them) and put them in their bin. Every night I have to do this, because he spends every day meticulously scattering them through the house. One on my bed. One on the nightstand. Six lined up in a row in the bathroom. Two on the windowsill on the landing. Four down the staircase. One on the sofa. Three on the kitchen floor. And when he sees the full bin of cars that I've gathered, he shrieks and runs over to it on his tippy toes with the biggest, most excited grin I've ever seen and starts taking them out, one by one, and showing them to me, one by one, all the while giving me a lengthy description of each of them. Geesh, this kid has it B-A-D for cars and trucks. I think he'd be in seventh heaven if he could sit at a construction site all day and watch the equipment move things around and the dump trucks haul stuff away.

OH...THAT explains why I've been referring to him as a BOY lately instead of as a BABY!

Here are the pictures from July.

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