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I Am Not Going To Blog About Taking A Shower

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

I'm having an email conversation with my husband, who is at work right now, and this is the last thing that he said to me

"Do the dishes then take a shower. Blog about... your shower? I would read it."

No, dirty old man honey. I mean, you are right, I really should take a shower. But I'm not going to blog about it.

Even though, I guess now I kind of am.

He wins.

Instead of posting pictures of me in the shower that I haven't yet taken, that I'm not going to be taking, and that I certainly wouldn't be blogging about even if they were taken, I'll post some pictures from Elie's random living room dress up party a few days ago.

See, somewhere right after lunch time today, that happy little girl wearing the 80s patterned winter scarf, military id badge, and tutu from 2 years ago- well she must have eaten a bad apple or something, because the next thing I know, I'm cleaning up the toilet seat and making sure that the pink puke bucket is in her hands at all times. Not my favorite part about being a mother.

Also, how come she never throws up when Daddy is home? Huh? How come its always me?

But, but- remember a few days ago, when she was being all sorts of adorable??

Okay fine, I'll clean up your vomit. I guess. If I haaaave to.
Please work on your aim, though?

Aaaand I just want to say in passing real quick, without making too big of a deal out of it, even though I really want to, but I'm kind of saving my big-deal-making for another day, or maybe when the number is just a little bit higher- that I stepped on a scale today at the doctors office, and I've lost 90 pounds since my heaviest recorded weight.


Lets hope for an empty puke bucket and clean sheets tonight. And no more bad apples. And please don't be a virus that everyone else in the house is going to get. I want my pretty pretty tomboy princess back. And I really don't want to have to scrub the tile anymore.

So, about that shower...

Sleep Popsicle Eating

Monday, May 30, 2011

We had a lot of fun today. This whole weekend, actually. Its kind of flown past us though, with a flash of budget plannings, house cleanings, grocery stores, presentation givings, yoga practicing, and then today- a day of play.

Charlie had so much fun today, in fact, that after an afternoon in the warm Texas sun, splashing around in the water with friends and siblings, he got gosh darn tuckered out.

See, there he is, just absolutely exhausted.

But wait, wasn't he just holding a...

homemade popsicle? ...yep.

Awww, so tired Mister. So so tired, that you fell asleep before you could finish your delicious frozen orange/pineapple/strawberry treat! Poor thing. Here, let Mommy take that from you (heeeeeeee).

So we walked away, went on with our business, and let the little man collect some energy from his dreams, still sitting in his sticky mess of pink popsicle drippings, mouth hanging wide open to catch any fly that dared enter.

Awhile later, I hear Christopher and his friend Brent behind me chuckling. I turn around, and see the funniest thing that I've maybe ever seen any of our children do, ever.

Poor Charlie. The last thing he knew, he was holding and eating a popsicle. So in his groggy state of summer sleepyness, he thought he was still eating that popsicle.

I was only able to catch a single air lick on video, before the crying baby (and probably our not so silent laughter) woke him up, and he realized that there was a camera in his face, and no popsicle in his hand.

So thats what happens when you have a really fun (memorial)day, fall asleep with a popsicle in your hand, and then walk away from your dreams with the idea that you're still eating it. Nothing could be cuter.

Now Accepting Sponsors For June/July

Sunday, May 29, 2011

Not that May is even over yet, even though in my head its been June for a week, we're opening up a few spaces for some new summertime sponsors.

Our sponsors are awesome folk, usually owners of small indie businesses (etsy, artfire, somebody that sells their junk on ebay- whatever), Mama's, homemakers, working girls and crafty ladies (not that Men are turned away, I just- well, are there any dudes other than my husband, and hes kind of obligated to check in from time to time, that reads this thing?) who support me, my family, my creative outlet (writing and photo taking and yadda yadda), in a way that is redeemable by advertisement.

In other words: You put diapers on my 10 month old, and we make you a cute little banner for our sidebar :D

If you've got a minute, check out some of this last months sponsors?

Cupcakes In jars.

This Little Bird.

A Starlight Creation.

Muffin Top Designs.

Otto's Mom Blogs.

The Plushie Foundry.

Maggie's Studio.

Krystle Dawne.

A Crafty Witch.

Sarah Jane Ink.

If you'd like to sponsor us for either June, July, or August, please send me an Etsy convo, or an email. Oh, and you can find more information- pricing and stats mostly, on our sponsor info page by clicking here.

We love our sponsors <3

Flashback Friday: Mowing the Lawn

Friday, May 27, 2011

I just drank a delicious quart of fresh squeezed orange pineapple juice, the kids are watching Carebears II for the billionth time (we've all got the movie memorized start to finish), the baby is happily making her panda friends play on their exersaucer teeter totter, hubby is doing something on his computer (probably in a Honda Ruckus forum geeking out over some type of make-it-sound-louder or get-it-to-reach-42-mph something or other), and here I am... flashing back.

Oh, and if you're at all interested in making fun of my silly Texas accent (I guess I've been away from the PNW for wayyy too long, huh? -it gets thicker when I'm nervous and when I really get to talking), then feel free to click over to yesterdays blog, to watch my very first vlog. I won't blame you if you don't watch all 10 minutes of it.

...I couldn't really think of much today, to go back in time to look at. I didn't want to go dig through my piles and piles of loose photos out in the pantry, and to be honest, I didn't really want to get off the couch. So looking through the files on my computer, I found some old pictures of Christopher and Eleanore mowing the lawn, from about 3 year ago.

This was before we lived in the house that we live in now. We lived on the other end of base, in the yucko stucco housing. There were gaps under our doors, the windows would either get stuck when we opened them, or get stuck while closed, not letting us open them up at all. And did I mention there were scorpions in the house? Not, fun. But, it was our first non apartment, and for the short 6 months that we lived there, it was our home.

Eleanore used to like to help Daddy mow the lawn. Even if it was way too hot outside and her cheeks turned bright pink. Also, as I was looking at these pictures, I remembered when we only had to provide clothing for one child, rather than three. Eleanore had much cuter clothes back then. Pretty dresses with floral patterns, polka dots, and stripes. Nowadays all the kids end up wearing whatever I can pick up for $2 at Target or Walmart, or whatever I come across at a garage sale, even if it has a hole or stain from its previous owner. But sometimes we really luck out, and somebody somewhere, a good friend or family member, sends us a box of t shirts and shorts, maybe pajamas, with the babies in mind. Thank you,

And now I feel a little bit of mom guilt.

But we've got our priorities, right? Eating healthy food and preserving memories is more important than wearing flashy clothes? ...well I can get away with that for now, at least. And maybe if I deal my cards right, and prepare my pineapple perfectly, the kids won't care that they're wearing a shirt from 1988, that was sewn for a short stubby kid, rather than a miniature sasquatch, instead of getting to go waste their very small amount of college fund money on whatever it is that every other kid is wearing.

Also, we need to mow the lawn today. 100 degrees or not.

So heres what we do. Every week we dig through our memories- old cell phone pictures, polaroids from 1986, something that you pulled out of a dirty shoe box- and we flashback to it. We show it off, and we write about it. We take ourselves back to that place, with as little or as much detail as our hearts are willing to share. Scan it, upload it, copy and paste it from your livejournal (remember those?)- display your memories in whatever way works for you. And then grab out button way down at the bottom of the page there (or link back old fashioned text style), add it to your flashback, add your link to our flashback, and if you've got an extra minute- maybe browse around and read some of the flashbacks left by others. Its just for fun. And really- memories are too precious to be left in an old dirty shoe box.

This is a comment free blog, thank you.

A Vlog? Vee-log? Vlllloggin'.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

So, I watched this afterwards, for the joy of feeling my pits sweat and my cheeks burning, and I have to say that it didn't out nearly as bad as I thought. I poke at my glasses a lot, which I do in real life, because they're constantly falling off of my face now, and I awkwardly look around in desperation for a focal point, the same way that I do when I meet someone that I know I'm supposed to get along with for the first time (bosses, teachers, etc).

I didn't quite dig into the whole migraine thing the way that I had planned on, because once put on the spot, and with two out of the three kids being awake (they both went down for naps 5 minutes after I finally figured out where the off button was) I forgot everything that I've learned over the past few days. Maybe I'll vlog again, after I see the specialist? But for anyone that might be curious, you can read more about hemiplegic migraines here.

Also, I'm really not a monster mother, although I know it looks that way when I'm telling Charlie to eat his dang food that he begged me for and then sat there refusing to eat. I love my children. I hate it when they don't eat their meals. The end.

Soooo... yep. There I am. Thats me.

Aaaand now I'll go finish my sons half eaten slobbery pears. Gross.

PS. In the video, I say "I just had so much THAT I wanted to say", even though it sounds like I said "shit", haha. I typically like to keep it clean on here, even though in real life my mechanic husband and I talk dirtier than sailors. I kinda felt the need to clarify that.

All The Cool Kids Pee On Frogs

Monday, May 23, 2011

We've never really pushed potty training on Charlie. It sucks having two kids in diapers. It hits us hard in the penny jar (might as well be wiping butts with dollar bills, right?), and it sucks being the one that doesn't call "not it!" in time.

With Eleanore, potty training wasn't as hard as we thought it would be. We decided one day that enough was enough, took away her diapers, gave her panties, and after she peed all over herself, well she didn't like it, so she didn't do it anymore. It was way easier than it probably should have been. Of course she had a lot of accidents before getting the hang of it- having so much fun outside playing that she couldn't hold it past the front door on her dash inside, waking up in apple juice blamed puddles- but for the most part, she learned the hard way, by having to sit in her own mess, and then get down on her hands and knees and scrub a dub dub it all up with kitchen towels, that if you gotta go, you gotta go in the toilet.

Charlie knows when hes going to pee. We noticed this a few months back, when he was freshly out of the bath tub, he'd look down at his pee machine, and then seconds later would turn the hose on. "Charlie, no! Why did you do that?! We pee on the potty! Or in our diaper! We don't pee on the carpet.", was our reaction the first couple of times. And his reaction? ..."I PEEE ON THE CARPET!! WHEEE!!!". ...no.

But then slowly as time went on, he starts seeing how we do things. He stopped using his frog potty as a pretend car to scoot himself around the downstairs on, and the other day when he got out of the bath tub, he looked down again, as if he were about to pee, and then asked to go on the potty.

And now he does it all the time.
Also, he drives cars all over his body while doing so.

Okay, all the time is a total exaggeration. But he does it every day now, at least once a day, for the past week or so. Its usually either mid morning or mid afternoon. Never both. Hes perfectly satisfied with getting the praise and the thrills that go along with them for just a few minutes at a time. And right now, so am I. I don't plan on sending him off to underwear boot camp anytime soon.

But it sure is cute watching the look on his face when he knows hes about to pee, looks down, and then smiles a big goofy grin until hes finished. So funny, boys are.

Keep up the good work Charlie!! You'll be saving Mama 50 bucks a month yet!

Oh, I mean- you'll have a great sense of self worth and get to wear your lightning mcqueen underwear and yadda yadda all that stuff too. Or whatever.

Heee heeee, zoinks!

Flashback Friday: The Life Of A Lovey

Friday, May 20, 2011

So its finally Friday. How many of you are singing a sigh of relief, as this week comes to a close?

Christopher's career application is in a far off land by now, overnighted from Abilene to its destination, to have a physical hard copy into their hands first thing in the morning. If he gets the job- awwwwwesome! If he doesn't- we'll mourn the loss of a tank of gas.

Woke up to thunder and lightning, took the kids out puddle stomping in their pajamas, drank a quart of fresh squeezed orange juice (omega juicer, y'all!). We're ready for the weekend.

And now, onto the life of a Lovey...

I started giving Lovey to Charlie when he was a baby, so he'd have something to snuggle when he tried to roll over in his sleep. He used it as a body pillow. It went from being a downstairs thing, when he was in the pack n play, to having to be taken upstairs with him when he went into his crib.

We had no idea that he'd become so attached. At first it was called his "dog pillow", but evolved into being known as Lovey.

The day that I realized it was more than just a sleep companion, was the happiest day of Charlie's life. His best friend could now come everywhere with him! Not just off into dreams.

Lovey's nose sort of resembled a nipple. I mean really- it does. So naturally, Charlie would suck on it. Sometimes he'd try to get both his binky and his Lovey into his mouth at the same time, and then cry when one would fall out.

They would fall asleep in all sorts of crazy positions. I don't know how that could possibly be comfortable, but they both slept soundly, so-

See? Lovey is apparently a person.

Lovey was there to comfort Charlie when he had his EEG. And he was there when we took our trip to Dallas to confront Charlie's seizures, which turned out to be stereotopies, and have since settled into a once every couple of weeks happening, rather than 20 times a day.

They waited together not so patiently when Daddy was working late nights, or off taking classes.

Lovey seemed like Charlie's only friend, when baby sister was born. Nobody understood what it was like, but Lovey. Charlie didn't get picked up as much, Mommy's lap was off limits, and when the nights got lonely, Lovely soaked up Charlie's tears and told him it would be alright.

From then on, Charlie and Lovey were even more inseparable. Bad Boys For Life.Sorry, yeah, I really said that.

Lovey, look!! A firetruck parade!!

And Lovey got to be with Charlie when he had tubes put into his ears. Mommy couldn't go with him, but Lovey and binky could. And they stayed with him the whole entire time. Lovey is there for Charlie when he needs him the most.

Charlie tried to protect Lovey the same way that he protected him, but- well you just shouldn't take a Lovey out into the snow, ya know? Snow is slippery, and wet. And it sure is sad when we get cold and wet.

Its pretty nice, having someone to watch Thomas with. Or Wonder Pets. or Blues Clues. Or Care Bears. Those are the only shows that Charlie watches, so those are the only shows that Lovey watches. They never fight over what to watch. They just hang out. Happily. Like friends should.

...but recently something happened. Nothing bad, don't get the wrong idea. Just, the better Charlie is feeling (the less his tummy troubles him, he doesn't get ear infections anymore)- the less hes needing his Lovey.

The other day when I was wanting to put Charlie down for a nap, which didn't end up happening, I was looking around the room for Lovey and Binky, and- where the heck were they? Christopher chimed in and said "I think they're still up in his bed".

...Um, no.
Wait, really?

Because although this post was about Lovey- where there was Lovey, there was binky. And where there was Lovey and binky, there was Charlie. Thats how its always been. Thats just how it is.

Sure enough, the duo was upstairs in his bed. And there they waited for him until he crawled into bed to join him come storytime, just before the lights went out.

And the same thing happened the next night.

And the next night.

And the- ...*sigh*

Lovey and Binky: Charlie still loves you, hes just growing up. He still needs you just as much as he did before, but more at night now than during the day.

So today, while Charlie carries around his precious lightning mcqueen in his right hand, and does everything else with his left because he couldn't possibly put it down, Lovey and Binky wait patiently up in his bed, hoping that today we'll have a nap time, or that night will come sooner.

So heres what we do. Every week we dig through our memories- old cell phone pictures, polaroids from 1986, something that you pulled out of a dirty shoe box- and we flashback to it. We show it off, and we write about it. We take ourselves back to that place, with as little or as much detail as our hearts are willing to share. Scan it, upload it, copy and paste it from your livejournal (remember those?)- display your memories in whatever way works for you. And then grab out button way down at the bottom of the page there (or link back old fashioned text style), add it to your flashback, add your link to our flashback, and if you've got an extra minute- maybe browse around and read some of the flashbacks left by others. Its just for fun. And really- memories are too precious to be left in an old dirty shoe box.

This is a comment-free blog, thank you.

The Blues

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

So Christopher is going up for a fancy new job. We've been scrambling for the past week or more, which has been terrible terrible timing, to get his application package completed by tomorrow. Part of his package is a head shot, but- the photo lab on base is closed until next Tuesday. Crap.

So he called down to the job that will remain nameless until he gets it, and asked the folks there if I could take it. And so today, during one of the very few moments of household serenity, we moved the dining room table, he got dressed up in his blues, and we took a quick first impression.

He said he needed to be turned to the side, but only slightly. "They only want the picture to see that I'm not fat".

This was one of the first pictures that I took. Whats with the big doofus smile, you wonder? Something about picturing me in my underwear. Clearly, this is not the shot that we used.

The moment of serenity only lasted a few minutes. They never last longer than that do they? But it didn't take long for us to get the picture that we planned on sending, so Christopher went to the rescue of the freshly woken up babe, while I fiddled back through our photo reel.

Him and Evelyn looked too cute- him standing there with his shirt unbuttoned, her happy to be in his arms- that I scooted them both back over to the wall for another frame before she realized it was time to eat.

Aaaaand they made nose scrunching faces and sounds, and it was perfectly adorable in all the right ways.

And then even though I wasn't looking my finest, I kinda wanted to get in on the action too.

Christopher snuck me a kiss just as I was pressing the trigger :)

...so wish us luck? Cross your fingers and send positive vibes our way? We really want this.

Thats the picture that we decided to actually use, by the way. Less dirty thoughts and face scrunching, a little bit more Air Force professional. The lighting might be a little off, the color lacking warmth, but- hopefully his pretty baby blue's grab their attention the way it grabbed mine, and we'll be moving onto bigger and better things.

Heres hopin'.

Caramel Apples

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The babies are picky- theres no better way to put it. Stubborn, and picky. We've been fighting over what to eat and drink for days. They were used to having sunbutter bars and homemade cookies as snacks, so making the switch to fruits and veggies wasn't one that they welcomed the same way they do a chocolate chip.


I reclaimed my status as culinary rockstar the other day, while in my 90th attempt at making the kids something other than the same boring fruit plate that both of them prefer. I will break them of their food strike, I will I will, I chanted to myself while brainstorming with the paring knife.

One of the things that they've really been into lately, is dates. Christopher bought a boatload of them before we cancelled our Sam's Club membership, and the kids can (and will) sit down and eat plates of them.

Have you ever tried a date? Becaaaause- ew. "It tastes like caramel!", was my response, before spitting it out and telling Christopher to eat the slobbery part I had failed at chewing. Which he totally did.

And caramel is really good to some people, but its just too sweet for me. Anything that sweet hits me hard in both the teeth, and the stomach. How in the heck can all 3 of them sit there and chow down on the things like they're a Thanksgiving dinner?

So there I am, hanging out in the kitchen with my paring knife, babies whining about wanting another banana, when I'm brushed by a stroke of, what at the time, I thought was pure genius.

Caramel Apples!
But, dates, ya know?
Which is apparently a no brainer in the rest of the raw vegan world.

So I blended up some medjool dates in the vita mix with a few splashes of pitcher water, and the end result was two happy kids, eating something other than bananas, being highly impressed with their Mother, who was at the same time disgusted in how much her children could enjoy something so sickening sweet.

There is now a huge container of the stuff in our fridge at all times. I can tolerate a little in dip form when combined with a dull apple, because it really does tastes like caramel dipping sauce, and it really is good, but- I still don't see myself feasting on a whole box of the sticky fruit anytime soon. Who knows, maybe I'll grow to like them.

Think I could get them to eat their leafy greens if I dipped the stems in caramel?
...I'm only partially joking.

We Were On The News

Monday, May 16, 2011

I really couldn't think of a clever title for this post. And I don't have any pictures to go with it, either. Usually all of my entries have pictures, heaps of them. But- yeah so we were on the news?

I'm a little ticked off at the news anchor, for not giving us a chance to view it before it aired, like she had promised she would, or even giving us a heads up as to which night it would be showing. But to be fair though, I never got back to her about doing an interview after the initial filming. She had emailed me during the week of all of my hospital tests, and I meant to respond, but just didn't. She could have maybe attempted a second time though, right? Come on lady.

So back in March, on our anniversary actually, Christopher's Dad and Brother were in town visiting, and I thought it would be nice for us all to go out for a night, rather than me having to slave in the kitchen again (because I don't know about you, but when you're a guest somewhere, you at least offer to help with the dishes or clear the table once in awhile, right? ...pffft, thats what I thought). Well it just so happened that my good friend Marlene had been talking to a gal down at the news station, who found out about our situation who knows how, and when Marlene had mentioned to said news gal that we were coming in, news gal wanted to film us eating.

It was weird.

But not as weird as I thought it would be?

They were there waiting for us when we walked in (which, we felt like total rockstars, not having to wait for a table- I love you Marlene), and then they were moving about and setting up shot from different angles as we were eating. It took all of 5 minutes to get used to it. I totally see how people can be on reality shows now. One minute there is a camera in your face, the next minute- ehh, there is a camera in my face so what.

They had to get most of my close up face shots from my bad angle, didn't they? With my big ol' toothy grin. Rad. And like my friend Lacey said ..."wheres Christopher?". Good question!

I had asked them not to use our last name, and not to get any shots of the babies faces for blogger-stalker reasons, which they went along with for the most part. Charlie is driving his cars around in the opening shot, and really you mostly see the back of his head, so I say its acceptable.

Did everyone see the shot of Eleanore salting and peppering her steamed baby carrots? Oh my gosh, she went on and on and on about how much of a big girl she was (clearly I'm not handing her salt and pepper shakers at the dinner table here at our house, she'd be eating bowl after bowl of sea minerals).

Oh wait. Guess you kinda need to watch it first right?
Here goes...

If I could embed the video here, I would, but- oh my gosh, what a pain its been trying to figure out how. Just click the link?

Food Allergies Keep Family at Home, Abilene Restaurant Helps Out

Sooo, yep. We were on Tv.

Flashback Friday: Door Harp

Friday, May 13, 2011

It appears that blogger has had the hiccups for the past couple days? Boooo to that. And sorry for the lack of posting, and especially the delay of our weekly flashback. Maybe I'll do some postings this weekend to make up for the lack of posts during the week.

This week I'm doing a different sort of flashback. Usually I flashback using old pictures, but today I'm using a new picture, with old memories. Change it up a bit...

I didn't get many gifts for my birthday this year. I didn't need many gifts, I wasn't expecting many gifts, but what I did get, was more perfect than any gift I could have hoped for.

See when I was a child, after my family and I moved to Washington state, I used to take summer trips by myself down to California (I'd fly alone) to visit our family.

And there was nothing better, than that first step into my Grammy (who was called "Grandma Chyrl" back then) and Grandpa's house- the smell of their cool crisp air, and the sound of their beautiful door harp.

Every time we'd open and close the door, beautiful music would play. I'd never seen anything like it, and to this day that remains true.

I had mentioned to my Grammy, in one of those random and kind of depressing "Tia I need to know what you'd like as your inheritance" emails. The door harp was the first thing that came to mind. The specific item, but really the melody that it sings, that reminds me the most of some of the most important people in my life, and the vivid summers that we spent together.

Grammy, if nobody has claimed your fifth wheel yet and the truck to pull it, I'll take that too :)

When my birthday package came, I was all too anxious to open it, a few days early maybe. I saw the wooden edge, and assumed it was a frame of some sort, but didn't want to ruin the surprise (I was only trying to get to the card anyways), so quickly put it back into the package, and when Christopher got home, had him go peek and tell me if I'd like it or not (I'm terrible, right?).

I didn't want to ruin my birthday surprise entirely, so I left it alone until the morning of May 5, and then anxiously asked for it, still not knowing what it was, first thing.

It was my door harp. My Grammy had sent it to me early.

At first I was overcome with joy. And then sadness, because- that means that the next time I walk into her house, I won't hear the beautiful music.

Later that evening, during my birthday phone call, she assured me that she has another, and the pretty songs still sing when they go in and out.

It was the best gift ever.

It will hang in our home forever and ever, until theres no door for it to hang on anymore. And then it will be passed on to one of my daughters, or maybe one of their daughters.

So girls: better fight over who gets it now. Eleanore, you're the oldest, so you kinda get the upper hand in this situation. Just sayin'.

Grammy I love you.
Thank you.

So heres what we do. Every week we dig through our memories- old cell phone pictures, polaroids from 1986, something that you pulled out of a dirty shoe box- and we flashback to it. We show it off, and we write about it. We take ourselves back to that place, with as little or as much detail as our hearts are willing to share. Scan it, upload it, copy and paste it from your livejournal (remember those?)- display your memories in whatever way works for you. And then grab out button way down at the bottom of the page there (or link back old fashioned text style), add it to your flashback, add your link to our flashback, and if you've got an extra minute- maybe browse around and read some of the flashbacks left by others. Its just for fun. And really- memories are too precious to be left in an old dirty shoe box.

Evelyn June: 9 Months Old

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Dear my sleeping angel,

While I sit in my bed with the lights dimmed, you dream quietly in your crib across the room. I had a choice tonight- clean the house, or sort through pictures of my cherub. Clearly, reflecting over the last month with you was the winner. And by the time that you're old enough to read this, you'll know how much of a neat freak I am, and how I must really have some emotions to express (whatever those emotions may be) if I choose me-time over clean-time.

June Bug, you're nine months old now.

I took you to your well baby checkup this morning. Just you and me. You fell asleep in the car on the way over. You had been crying for your binky and your stinky (previously known as "Giraffey", trust me on the appropriate reasons for the name change), for about 10 minutes before we left, and as soon as your seat belts were buckled around you, your eyelids closed. When we arrived at the doctor's, it was sprinkling. I thought maybe it was going to storm, so I rushed us both out of the would be rain, and you yawned yourself into an alert state of awakeness.

You weigh 19 pounds, 13 1/2 ounces.
And thats all from Mama's milk, baby.

Lets reminisce.

One of the few things that we saved from your sister's wardrobe, was this blue dress. When we put you in it, we couldn't believe that you were already as old as she was when she wore it. The time that we've spent with you has passed so much quicker than it did for the other two. I guess because we don't have as many spare minutes as we did then, to sit around and soak it all up.

We pulled a picture of Eleanore wearing that same dress to see the similarities between you two.

Your brother doesn't show much of an interest in you just yet. Sometimes he shares his toy cars with you, but then takes back his decision immediately, grabs it out of your hands, and makes you cry. Also, he can't stand it when you two are side by side in the double stroller, and you reach over and A). Try to grab his lovey, or B). Touch him.

He gives you kisses when hes feeling especially cute though.

He'll come around. We just have to give him time.

You love being outside. You put up with the wind, with the sun, with the heat- no questions, no complaints. The only thing that you don't like, about it, is that if we're outside, you're usually not being held. And Evelyn not being held is a very unhappy girl.

We can sometimes distract you on a blanket with toys for a few minutes, but as soon as you've realized that the part has moved elsewhere, and that you're all by yourself- you cry like a baby carebear, in that obnoxious whine that your sister mimics.

Cookie Monster! You and him are like neighbor friends. You see him all the time, so hes no big deal. But sometimes you get into a chatty sort of mood, and when he offers you a bite of his orange rubber cookies, you accept, pull up a chair, and gossip about the Tigger doll just down the way.

Oh you and your remote controls. No toy could ever compare. No matter what you may have been doing, the moment you see a remote control within possible reaching distance (reeeeach for it, baby), you drop whatever it was that you were doing- breastfeeding included- and you go for it. If you can't have it, like say if you get trapped in your gymini, you have a massive meltdown that can only be comforted by the taste of a wii controller rubbing against your gums.

Soon you'll be crawling. You're so close, Evelyn. You rock up onto your knees more and more each day. But as far as getting around goes, you can only push yourself in a backwards motion, usually getting suck in corners and under entertainment centers. I bet when I write your 10 month post, you'll be a pro.

We went bowling, a couple of weekends ago, with some friends of ours. Xander? You looove Xander. See in that first picture, you were sitting all by your lonesome, with only your stinky to keep you company. But then in that second picture, well now you've got someone to chew on things with, and you just couldn't be any happier.

Night and day. You just needed a friend to hang out with, thats all.

You two sat together for about an hour, babbling and jibbering, fighting over who got to taste what. You were so excited, at one point, that you laughed and squealed and went on and on and on about something. Well whatever it was, it must've been good, because we've never heard you carry on such a conversation before.

Mommy and Daddy spend a lot of time in the kitchen. Tonight I cooked dinner with you on my back in the carrier, but- most of the time you're rolling around on the ground with a spoon, or something equally awesome in your hands/mouth.

Just you wait, little girl. There are cupcake pans and rolling pins, too!

Applesauce? ...you couldn't care less. Any solid food, for that matter. If you see a spoon coming anywhere near your face, you put both hands up, and block every pass I make with it. And if I do happen to succeed, and sneak in a minuscule bite, you spit it right out at me, and give me that face. The neener neener Mom, I'm never going to eat solid foods, and you can't make me, face.

And when those banana piece messes are made, you go straight into a sink bath, where we lather up your hair with tear free baby shampoo, and scrub a dub dub until you smell baby fresh once more.

Soon you'll be able to sit up on your own, and it won't be quite so hard to keep you from bonking your noggin on the faucet.

...Oh baby baby. Each month is better than the last, in its own unique way.

Lets see if we can make it through the spring/summer without getting any sunburns, k?

My sheewoo.