Tonight, something happened that I'd been warned about. My friends told me it would happen to me eventually, and tonight it did.
I took my little 15-month old upstairs to take a bath as part of his nightly ritual. As he sat in the tub playing, I watched his whole body, especially his face, turn bright red. It became the color of the inside of a watermelon. "Oh no!" I thought. "Is he having an allergic reaction to something he ate for dinner?" And then, they appeared. Two large turds popped out from his bottom and floated to the top of the water! He had pooped in the tub!
I quickly grabbed him and lifted him out of the feces infested water. Of course, at this point he was feeling relieved and found the whole scene amusing. As he stood at the side of the tub peering down at his creation, in true motherly fashion I grabbed the poop with my bare hand and tossed it into the nearby toilet. "Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!" I squealed in a very high pitched voice.
Just as I thought it was all over, little boy grunted again and onto the floor fell another long turd. Its a good thing I have a pretty good sense of humor, because I was laughing and exclaiming rather loudly, "Oh my gosh! It DID happen to me!" Since I had already soiled my hands with the first set of solid waste, I picked up the third dropping and flushed it down the toilet.
Now that he had relieved himself, my little angel was gibbering and jabbering and laughing at the scene he'd created. Long story short, I got the mess cleaned up and baby boy was sanitized from head to toe. I guess the good thing was that it was bath time anyway. And now I have a funny story to share :)
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Baby Frankenstein
Sweet angel boy (I used to say angel baby but now I guess boy is more appropriate) is so close to walking. He stood on his own for the first time on his one-year birthday. The month that followed, he gained more stability and confidence in standing, and now at 13 months old he is ready to take off. He takes about four or five steps pretty easily, especially if he is walking towards someone or something. It is so cute the way his knees don't really bend, and he holds his arms out front for balance. C and I both commented separately that he looks like a little Baby Frankenstein. I have no doubt that he will be walking with ease by the time he turns 14 months. So proud of my little man!
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Ornaments are magical
Have you ever thought about how an ornament can bring up so many memories?
Today, with the help of my dear hubbie, I unwrapped several boxes of ornaments and placed them on the tree. This year was different than the last few. You see, this year is the first year since mom and dad passed away that I pulled out their ornaments - our family ornaments - and put them on my own tree.
Even though this is the third Christmas I will celebrate without them, I had yet to pull out their boxes of ornaments from the attic. The first Christmas I just didn't have the strength or energy to do it. Last Christmas I was preoccupied with a newborn and was happy there were any ornaments on the tree at all. But this year, I had the time and desire to pull out all of those ornaments for my own family's tree.
I actually didn't even realize that I had brought their box down from the attic until I started unwrapping the ornaments. I found myself thinking, "Ohhhhh, here are all the airplane ornaments," and "Awwwww, I remember getting that ornament."
There were ornaments that represented my mom and dad, like airplane and teacher ornaments. There were my own "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. There was my knitted Santa face from St. Mark's Kindergarten. There was a Beagle ornament to represent my first dog, Spotty. There was a Harry Potter ornament that mom bought me when I first started reading the books. There was a LHS ornament that represented my High School days. There was an ADPi ornament from my college days. I found myself reflecting on each one, remembering when it was added to the tree and what it represented at the time.
When I was done, I stood back and saw that every stage of my life, with my mom/dad/sister and now with my husband/son, was represented in some way. There were the ornaments from growing up. There were the "Our First Christmas Together" ornaments from the year I got married. There were police ornaments and Lucky (my four-legged son) ornaments and "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. (Funnily, they don't make any marketing or advertising ornaments to represent my own career!)
Decorating the tree this year allowed me to revisit some happy memories and warmed my heart. I miss my parents deeply. That will never change. But even though they can't be here in the flesh, I can feel their spirit, their love and their laughter in the house. It's the same way that God fills my heart with joy and peace.
We're creating new memories and new Christmas traditions, and we're sharing the true meaning of the holidays with our eager, bright-eyed son. All-in-all, the tree is magical. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
Today, with the help of my dear hubbie, I unwrapped several boxes of ornaments and placed them on the tree. This year was different than the last few. You see, this year is the first year since mom and dad passed away that I pulled out their ornaments - our family ornaments - and put them on my own tree.
Even though this is the third Christmas I will celebrate without them, I had yet to pull out their boxes of ornaments from the attic. The first Christmas I just didn't have the strength or energy to do it. Last Christmas I was preoccupied with a newborn and was happy there were any ornaments on the tree at all. But this year, I had the time and desire to pull out all of those ornaments for my own family's tree.
I actually didn't even realize that I had brought their box down from the attic until I started unwrapping the ornaments. I found myself thinking, "Ohhhhh, here are all the airplane ornaments," and "Awwwww, I remember getting that ornament."
There were ornaments that represented my mom and dad, like airplane and teacher ornaments. There were my own "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. There was my knitted Santa face from St. Mark's Kindergarten. There was a Beagle ornament to represent my first dog, Spotty. There was a Harry Potter ornament that mom bought me when I first started reading the books. There was a LHS ornament that represented my High School days. There was an ADPi ornament from my college days. I found myself reflecting on each one, remembering when it was added to the tree and what it represented at the time.
When I was done, I stood back and saw that every stage of my life, with my mom/dad/sister and now with my husband/son, was represented in some way. There were the ornaments from growing up. There were the "Our First Christmas Together" ornaments from the year I got married. There were police ornaments and Lucky (my four-legged son) ornaments and "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments. (Funnily, they don't make any marketing or advertising ornaments to represent my own career!)
Decorating the tree this year allowed me to revisit some happy memories and warmed my heart. I miss my parents deeply. That will never change. But even though they can't be here in the flesh, I can feel their spirit, their love and their laughter in the house. It's the same way that God fills my heart with joy and peace.
We're creating new memories and new Christmas traditions, and we're sharing the true meaning of the holidays with our eager, bright-eyed son. All-in-all, the tree is magical. Isn't that what Christmas is all about?
Sunday, November 13, 2011
First Birthday
Happy first birthday baby boy! (I'm writing this after your birthday and birthday party because I haven't had time to sit down and really reflect until now.)
Where did the year go? It's hard to believe you entered the world as a tiny helpless infant, and now you are almost walking. You bring me and Daddy such joy! Having you is the best thing I've ever done in my life. Even now, I look at you with amazement at what love can create and bring into the world.
From the moment you were born, you've been a sweet, easy going baby boy. You are curious and playful. You are loving. You are so smart. You've learned so much and you continue to amaze me every day. I am so proud of you! Always remember that.
I've enjoyed every stage of your life so far... from the newborn stage of swaddling and rocking you at all hours of the night, to the more mobile stage of rolling over and sitting up, to the interactive stage of playing and talking. It just gets better and better, and I can't wait to see more.
I love you so much! Happy birthday, my angel!
Where did the year go? It's hard to believe you entered the world as a tiny helpless infant, and now you are almost walking. You bring me and Daddy such joy! Having you is the best thing I've ever done in my life. Even now, I look at you with amazement at what love can create and bring into the world.
From the moment you were born, you've been a sweet, easy going baby boy. You are curious and playful. You are loving. You are so smart. You've learned so much and you continue to amaze me every day. I am so proud of you! Always remember that.
I've enjoyed every stage of your life so far... from the newborn stage of swaddling and rocking you at all hours of the night, to the more mobile stage of rolling over and sitting up, to the interactive stage of playing and talking. It just gets better and better, and I can't wait to see more.
I love you so much! Happy birthday, my angel!
Monday, October 31, 2011
A Bonus
Ugh, I have to share this story about a terribly rude little girl that came trick-or-treating at my house tonight.
My neighborhood is an awesome neighborhood for Halloween. It's so much fun. We have a sidewalk and houses that are relatively close to the road. Hence, we get a LOT of trick-or-treaters from all over town, not just ones who live in the neighborhood. It's awesome to see all of the cute kids and their unique, beautiful and sometimes disturbing costumes (i.e. the giant cockroach that visited me tonight).
Most kids are very polite and say thank you, and about half of them say "Trick-or-Treat." I am one of those people that pretty much makes you say "Trick-or-Treat" to get candy. I mean, come on, like it's that hard! (Note, one little boy hollered out to his friends as he was leaving, "You have to say 'Trick-or-Treat' at this house!") Yes sir, that's right!
Well, tonight this one particular little girl about 11 years old walked up to the door and sassily said, "Do I get a bonus?"
"I beg your pardon," I said.
"A bonus. You know, like I have to guess the answer to a question, and I'll get more candy."
Puzzled, I replied, "Do you mean 'Trick-or-Treat'?" and I handed her a piece of candy.
"All of the other houses are doing it," she said.
"Well, this house isn't playing that game tonight," I politely replied.
She ignored me and continued, "How about I guess how old HE is," pointing at my sweet angel baby (who, by the way, was wearing cute camo overalls and a long sleeved orange onesie - dressed like Daddy).
Some of her friends walked up and she instructed, "Guess how old he is."
"A month." "Two months." They had no clue.
"He is almost one year old," I explained in my sweetest voice. You know, the kind of voice you learned from your kindergarten teacher.
"Oh... Trick-or-Treat," her friends replied. They could care less. They just wanted candy.
Clearly this little girl was not giving up. As I doled out candy to the other kids in her gang, she continued to chatter, and to be honest I had stopped listening.
"Happy Halloween! Have fun!" I smiled and said, encouraging the group to leave.
The little girl still stood there with her arms extended and her Halloween bag open, expecting more candy.
"Now, I already gave you some candy," I sweetly said.
She insisted, "I know. But..." and I just couldn't listen anymore. I'd had enough!
"I don't have enough candy to give you any more," I said politely, even though my patience was running thin. "I won't have enough for everyone else."
She quickly turned, whipped her head around and ran off to catch up with her friends, never even uttering a thank you. I was totally baffled.
Now, could I have given her another piece of candy? Yes. And maybe it would've shut her up. Maybe I could've played her little game. Some people would. But I didn't.
I realize I am about to sound so OLD when I say this, but wow, talk about seeing a sense of entitlement in action. That little girl is probably the "mean girl" of her grade. The one who bosses everyone around. The one who scares the other girls into doing whatever she says, or risk social exclusion. The one who, in another few years, would probably toilet paper my house to get back at me for refusing to play her little game.
So little girl, here is your bonus: "Guess what you say to get candy on Halloween." Answer: "Trick-or-Treat" and "Thank you!"
My neighborhood is an awesome neighborhood for Halloween. It's so much fun. We have a sidewalk and houses that are relatively close to the road. Hence, we get a LOT of trick-or-treaters from all over town, not just ones who live in the neighborhood. It's awesome to see all of the cute kids and their unique, beautiful and sometimes disturbing costumes (i.e. the giant cockroach that visited me tonight).
Most kids are very polite and say thank you, and about half of them say "Trick-or-Treat." I am one of those people that pretty much makes you say "Trick-or-Treat" to get candy. I mean, come on, like it's that hard! (Note, one little boy hollered out to his friends as he was leaving, "You have to say 'Trick-or-Treat' at this house!") Yes sir, that's right!
Well, tonight this one particular little girl about 11 years old walked up to the door and sassily said, "Do I get a bonus?"
"I beg your pardon," I said.
"A bonus. You know, like I have to guess the answer to a question, and I'll get more candy."
Puzzled, I replied, "Do you mean 'Trick-or-Treat'?" and I handed her a piece of candy.
"All of the other houses are doing it," she said.
"Well, this house isn't playing that game tonight," I politely replied.
She ignored me and continued, "How about I guess how old HE is," pointing at my sweet angel baby (who, by the way, was wearing cute camo overalls and a long sleeved orange onesie - dressed like Daddy).
Some of her friends walked up and she instructed, "Guess how old he is."
"A month." "Two months." They had no clue.
"He is almost one year old," I explained in my sweetest voice. You know, the kind of voice you learned from your kindergarten teacher.
"Oh... Trick-or-Treat," her friends replied. They could care less. They just wanted candy.
Clearly this little girl was not giving up. As I doled out candy to the other kids in her gang, she continued to chatter, and to be honest I had stopped listening.
"Happy Halloween! Have fun!" I smiled and said, encouraging the group to leave.
The little girl still stood there with her arms extended and her Halloween bag open, expecting more candy.
"Now, I already gave you some candy," I sweetly said.
She insisted, "I know. But..." and I just couldn't listen anymore. I'd had enough!
"I don't have enough candy to give you any more," I said politely, even though my patience was running thin. "I won't have enough for everyone else."
She quickly turned, whipped her head around and ran off to catch up with her friends, never even uttering a thank you. I was totally baffled.
Now, could I have given her another piece of candy? Yes. And maybe it would've shut her up. Maybe I could've played her little game. Some people would. But I didn't.
I realize I am about to sound so OLD when I say this, but wow, talk about seeing a sense of entitlement in action. That little girl is probably the "mean girl" of her grade. The one who bosses everyone around. The one who scares the other girls into doing whatever she says, or risk social exclusion. The one who, in another few years, would probably toilet paper my house to get back at me for refusing to play her little game.
So little girl, here is your bonus: "Guess what you say to get candy on Halloween." Answer: "Trick-or-Treat" and "Thank you!"
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Favorite Things
Just want to document some of my angel baby's favorite things at 11 months and 3 weeks old:
Elmo and "Elmo's World," and well, really all of Sesame Street
Thomas the Train
Cheerios
Baby Mum Mums
Cruising
Playing with Mommy and Daddy
Snuggling with Mommy and Daddy in the morning and trying to climb over the pillows
Sitting on top of Daddy's shoulders
Bottle
"Talking" to Mommy and Daddy
Blanket with tags attached
Blocks, especially knocking over a tower of blocks
Balls, especially crawling after a ball that has rolled away
Pulling his socks off his feet
Bath time
Books, actually just turning the pages of books
Pulling books and magazines off the table onto the floor
Elmo and "Elmo's World," and well, really all of Sesame Street
Thomas the Train
Cheerios
Baby Mum Mums
Cruising
Playing with Mommy and Daddy
Snuggling with Mommy and Daddy in the morning and trying to climb over the pillows
Sitting on top of Daddy's shoulders
Bottle
"Talking" to Mommy and Daddy
Blanket with tags attached
Blocks, especially knocking over a tower of blocks
Balls, especially crawling after a ball that has rolled away
Pulling his socks off his feet
Bath time
Books, actually just turning the pages of books
Pulling books and magazines off the table onto the floor
I love my Emma!
Today I felt compelled to share how much I love my "Emma." Emma is the "grandmother nickname" for my mom's best friend in the whole world. In fact, she and my mom were so close, some people mistook them for sisters. All of Emma's grandkids call her Emma, and so does my family. She has been the biggest support and confidant to me since mom passed away.
Call it the scholar in me (you could say nerd or other derogatory name, but I prefer scholar), but before I write about something I like to have a plan in mind, and even research if necessary. Did you know the name Emma means "whole and complete?" I can't believe how perfect this fits my Emma!
My family lost a big piece of the puzzle a few years ago - the piece that held us together without me even knowing. When it all fell apart, Emma was there for me. She listened, supported and encouraged. She was there for me when my mom couldn't. And I know mom is so grateful that I have a strong friend and support in her.
Over the last few years I have devoted a lot of energy and personal growth to putting the pieces of my family back together. Some pieces are bent and torn, some have been chewed on and spit back out and some pieces are just as strong as they were when the puzzle box was opened - if not stronger. They might not all fit together in the same way anymore, but they are all accounted for and equally loved.
Emma is a piece of my family, and now her family is my family, and my family is her family. She has helped to make my family whole and complete again. We love her beyond measure. She is a mother figure for me and my husband, and a grandmother to my son. I love seeing the way my little boy's eyes light up when he sees Emma. It is pure love.
Thank you Emma, for being a solid friend, for your never ending support, for welcoming my family as a part of yours, for laughing with me and crying with me, and (most of all) for loving me.
Call it the scholar in me (you could say nerd or other derogatory name, but I prefer scholar), but before I write about something I like to have a plan in mind, and even research if necessary. Did you know the name Emma means "whole and complete?" I can't believe how perfect this fits my Emma!
My family lost a big piece of the puzzle a few years ago - the piece that held us together without me even knowing. When it all fell apart, Emma was there for me. She listened, supported and encouraged. She was there for me when my mom couldn't. And I know mom is so grateful that I have a strong friend and support in her.
Over the last few years I have devoted a lot of energy and personal growth to putting the pieces of my family back together. Some pieces are bent and torn, some have been chewed on and spit back out and some pieces are just as strong as they were when the puzzle box was opened - if not stronger. They might not all fit together in the same way anymore, but they are all accounted for and equally loved.
Emma is a piece of my family, and now her family is my family, and my family is her family. She has helped to make my family whole and complete again. We love her beyond measure. She is a mother figure for me and my husband, and a grandmother to my son. I love seeing the way my little boy's eyes light up when he sees Emma. It is pure love.
Thank you Emma, for being a solid friend, for your never ending support, for welcoming my family as a part of yours, for laughing with me and crying with me, and (most of all) for loving me.
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