How to Fake a Smile

Whatever it is that makes it impossible not to laugh when a baby laughs, is the same thing that makes it impossible not to smile back at a child's fake grin.

Is this really funny, really sweet, or really painful?  I can't decide.

What I do know is that tomorrow it will be July (already?!) and that means we're dangerously close to this little one turning three.  And that freaks me out in ways I can't let myself think about right now.  So I'm just going to bust out my own fake smile and wear it for the next few weeks.  Good plan?

At the Old Ball Game

The kids and I made our second appearance to cheer for the church softball team (read: Daddy) last week.  Except, I might or might not have spent as much time taking pictures of how cute my kids were at the softball game, as actually watching and cheering for the game itself.

Exhibit A: Nathan walked over to the fence to watch the team stretching.  Then he thought he should join in and do what Daddy was doing.  Awesome.

Exhibit B: How could I possibly be watching a sporting event when this gorgeous baby with those gorgeous eyes is staring up at me and grinning?

Exhibit C: Yes, this is game action, but I didn't take the picture to capture their win for posterity or anything.  Knowing Mark would be running by in shorts is what prompted me to move towards the first base line for this particular at-bat.  (He hit a triple, in case you're curious.  Yada yada game details.)

Even though the camera is a huge distraction from watching the game, it was still fun to go support the team.  I also got to meet some of the other softball wives, which was nice.  (Plus, again with Mark and the shorts.  He's easy on the eyes, not gonna lie.)

Happy softball season!!

Grandpa B's 85th... With Some Fussing

I have been in Huntersville for the last two days, ready to celebrate my Grandpa B's 85th birthday.  Which is a huge reason to celebrate, not just because 85 (and counting!) is a major milestone, but because he's had some health troubles in the last few months from which he has now made a full recovery.  Yay! 

Grandpa is strong, opinionated (ahem), emotionally invested in his family, and has an incredible work ethic (being a Marine will do that, I guess).  He loves babies, and even at 85 years old, he's happy to get down on all fours and crawl around with Nathan or tickle Anneliese in the hopes of some baby giggles.  Seeing him grinning and laughing with my kids is such a great feeling.

So anyway I have done a lot over the last few days.  Although I have no pictures to show for it.  Seriously I didn't take my camera out of my purse -- not even once -- all weekend.  You'll just have to take my word for it when I say how things went:

1.) I worshipped with Steven and Betsy at their church yesterday afternoon.  It was so very different from my own church here in Raleigh, and I like that it shook me out of my element a little.  It was fun to make music with old friends (and our babies!) and to hear (and participate in!) such a... candid sermon.

2.) I had a mini-reunion with even older friends this morning.  Jenny and I took our kids to visit our middle school friend Jean and have a playdate with her son.  We hadn't seen her in almost fifteen years.  (I'm kind of in denial that I'm even old enough to say that.  Yikes.)  We got to visit and catch up a little, and it was nice to have a low-key morning.  Her son is precious.  You'll have to take my word for it, because... again with the no pictures.  (Nathan was kind of scared of him though... I guess he hasn't been around many crawling babies?  He asked more than once if the baby was going to eat him.  Um, no.)

3.) I listened to Anneliese fuss.  She has been fussing constantly.  When she's not with me, she's hollering about it.  I think this is our first bout with separation anxiety.  It ain't pretty.  It's making me even more stressed and nervous about leaving her next weekend when we go to Charleston.  You'd think that having a baby calm down in your arms would be a really gratifying feeling -- and on some level, it is, I guess.  But really, when you know that it's only going to happen in your arms, it's pretty much just exhausting.  (Can I blame the no picture thing on her?  I did take a couple of pics with my phone when she calmed down for a rare few minutes this afternoon though.)

4.) After all that, I celebrated my Grandpa's birthday!!  Well, kind of.  I misunderstood the time of our dinner celebration and I made some bad decisions with the kids regarding food and bedtimes.  Nathan handled it like a champ, but Anneliese... well, she fussed.  And by fussed I mean, she fussed for a while and then all-out screamed.  So I sat mostly outside with my parents and sister, to keep the cacophony away from most people's ears.  We did regroup long enough to sing happy birthday (Grandpa teared up, it was really cute), and eat some good food really quickly.  Since I didn't do too much participating in the dinner party itself, I was glad that we saw a lot of Grandpa while we all stayed together at my dad's house.  The kids got lots of snuggles (fussy snuggles, in Anneliese's case) and we got to enjoy some downtime with him there.  Again, no pictures.  I promise it happened though.

And now it's almost 10pm and both kids are finally -- finally! -- sleeping.  What a day.

UPDATE (Tuesday 6/29):

5.) While I went to get my hair cut and highlighted this morning (no more gray! for now at least), Anneliese stayed with Mark's mom and was an angel.  My dad commented yesterday that he thought her separation anxiety might be of the "out of sight, out of mind" variety, since she took the fussing up a notch when she could see or hear me.  Apparently he was right!  She giggled and grinned and snuggled with Grandma, and even took a long morning nap!  I don't have photographic evidence of this, either (not yet anyway), but I do have proof that my hair is actually cut and highlighted.  That counts, right?

6.) I had car trouble on the way home.  The car kept jerking backwards (like it does if you accidentally put it in a gear too slow for the speed you're going) so we stopped for about two hours during lunchtime and naptime to get it looked at.  While there's probably no better place to be stuck with a two-year-old boy than a car shop surrounded by vehicles and tow trucks, it's still not ideal during naptime.  Especially when you've missed lunch.  And breastfeeding apparently isn't acceptable (don't even get me started).  Neither kid was terribly thrilled to begin with, but things took a real turn south when Nathan ran smack into a glass wall and then had to deal with not only the lingering pain but the fact that everyone in the room was laughing at him.  It's the one and only time I have ever seen him mad that he made people laugh.  Poor guy.  Poor pretty glass wall now smeared with greasy toddler head.  Anyway, after all that, it turns out I burned (or leaked) through almost a whole gallon of oil, which is apparently an indication that my engine is on its last leg.  Super.

But I'm home now and despite some traffic snags due to our car shop delay, having to unload in the rain, an an ugly horrifying encounter with a ginormous roach in my kitchen, I am glad to be back.

Less than three days to regroup and get ready for the next road trip!  But first... rest.

Aloha, Sippy, Clapping and Go!

Our little lady has had a big week!  And she has been precious as all get-out, which means the camera has been out even more than usual.  (Ahem.  It's always out.  Anyone on the recieving end of almost-daily text-pics from me can attest to this.)

She started clapping her hands together in imitation when Nathan does it.  And just like him, she cracks up when she does it. 

She started drinking from a sippy cup.  She just still isn't a huge fan of the bottle, and seeing as I am leaving her for three nights very very soon, she's got to have a backup option for getting milk and other fluids.

Rolling from her tummy to her back is becoming less occasional and more of a habit.  And she's no longer only doing it as a last resort out of frustration.  It's slow progress, but it's progress. 

And she is now saying her third word -- go!  (Like Mark said, what is with that word?)  Yes, I am still waiting on mama.  {sigh}

And a non-milestone picture bonus: these plastic leis have been hanging around our house since Sarah's bachelorette weekend (almost two months ago), and both kids really like them.  Nathan likes to put a lei on Anneliese (or himself) and say aloha! 

At least no one can accuse me of not taking as many pictures of the second baby as the first, right?

Those Scary Gorillas

On Thursday, I got to spend a rare day with just Nathan.  I don't think I realized it until this week, but it's so rare for me to be away from Anneliese.  It was really fun to have a big-boy day with Nathan.

We met Jenny and her daughter Katie at the zoo.  It was... hot.  But the kids loved it.  And it was surprisingly uncrowded for a summer day (maybe we can thank the the 95 degree mugginess for that). 

Their favorite animals seemed to be the lions.  There were two, they were both sleeping in the sun, and they were gorgeous.  Because of the lack of crowds, the kids got to spend a long time lingering in front of the lions, roaring at them and talking about them and just staring in awe.  (Best line of the day came from Katie when the female stretched in the sun after her nap: "she's waking up! she wants her mommy!"  So cute.)

As happy as they were with the lions, they were twice that terrified of the gorillas.  Seriously, what is it about gorillas that's so scary?  I mean, I knew Nathan wasn't a huge fan, but Katie too?  I don't get it.  They're so sweet!  They smile!  What's not to love?

But our kids just huddled on a bench, as far away from the gorilla den as Jenny and I would let them go, and... whimpered.  Pathetic but sweet.  The other people were amused that they were crying and saying the gorillas were too scary, and then asking to see the lions.  Really, what planet do these kids live on where gorillas are scarier than lions?

By the end of the day, Nathan and Katie were best buds.  Clearly they have a lot in common -- awesome mommies, and a mutual fear of gorillas.  (I promise, we didn't ask them to hold hands like this.  They did it all on their own.  So so stinkin' cute.)

Yay for a fun mom-Nathan day! 

An Open Letter to John

Dear John,

You're a rockin' awesome brother-in-law.  I am so thrilled that you're married to Ashley.  My sister is amazing, as you know, and she deserves someone as great as you.  I know that you will work hard to love her and take care of her, and that your second-shift hospital job which requires you to traipse through the house at 2am is part of that.  I appreciate your effort. 

However, I feel that the following facebook exchange, found in my news feed this week, warrants more commentary* than facebook will permit:

There are so many things wrong here I almost don't know where to start.

Ok, first.  It kind of sounds like you're defending yourself... to me.  You know I'm the wrong audience for that, right?  Offering up some sort of explanation excuses as if I would take your side over hers?  Um, seriously?  Did you really think that was going to happen?  Come on now.  Even if I thought you kind of had a point (which I don't), I would still probably take her side.  I mean, have you met us?

As you know, Mark and I have had similar sleeping schedule conflicts when he comes and goes in the pre-dawn hours for his own crazy shift work, and we've had to create out a pretty intricate system where he gets ready as silently as possible (no hitting snooze! no flushing! no snot rockets in the shower!) and then exits the house as quickly as possible (do not do dishes, do not clang cereal bowls, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and his jacket better already be out of the front hall closet -- otherwise known as the booming squeaking slamming door of death -- and waiting for him, or it's a chilly ride to work).  When he comes home from night shift, he uses the back basement entrance and does not cross the threshold of the floors where the children and I are sleeping peacefully.  Unless, of course, the children aren't sleeping peacefully anymore, in which case he is more than welcome to come upstairs and play with them so that I can continue to sleep peacefully.

Anyway, I bring all this up not to brag about how wonderful and helpful and considerate and silent Mark is (ok, it's a little of that too), but to tell you that I totally get the sleep-schedule-conflict situation you and Ashley have going on over there.  I do.  Which is why I can say with absolute certainty that your explanations excuses just aren't going to cut it.

1.) You sat on the bed and then took your shirt off?  But that causes so much unneccesary bouncing!  Why would you do that?? Why can't you take your shirt off standing up (since presumably you'd need to put it in the hamper anyway)?  And no, I do not want to hear any explanations excuses about your gimpy leg.  Man up.

2.) Your cell phone -- dim and stealthy?  Not so much.  I can't believe you would take your cell phone, turn it on its brightest setting, and then shine it directly in Ashley's face as she's trying to sleep (I wasn't there, but I can only assume that's how it happened, and it's your word against mine).  Why would you do that??  Mark used to use his cell phone to get out of our bedroom in the early-morning hours too, but... no more.  If a dog can come in the room at night and find its way to bed without a cell-phone light, you should be able to too.  How long have you lived in that house?  Years, right?  You can do it, I promise.  Cell phone light gets my veto.  Effective immediately.

3.) You caused a racket opening and shutting the door, and tried to make out like that was ok because you only did it once?  Why would you do that??  Even once!  Once is all it takes to wake her up!  You know if you turn the doorknob and then push the door open or closed, it will be a much much quieter process, right?  And if your doors still make that much noise, then you need to sacrifice an afternoon of video gaming one day, channel your inner handyman, and fix them up a bit.  Yeah I said it.

4.) You called her grouchy?  Why would you do that??  You woke her up, of course she wasn't in a great mood!  Besides, has calling her grouchy ever gotten her to see your side of things?  No really, has that ever worked for you?  Come on John.  Rookie mistake.

5.) Sleeping diagonally is forgiveable.  See?  I'm reasonable.  Sleep as diagonally as you want, just don't get in her way.  It's a big bed.  You can do that, right?

In conclusion: please stop waking Ashley up. There are no steps you could take that would be considered "too far" to go in your efforts in guaranteeing her a good night's sleep, so get creative!  You can do it!  I have confidence in you to make it happen.  (And remember, if you don't, someday she will bring forth into the world a magical creature called a baby which shouldn't be, but can be, used in loud revenge of this very cellphone-lit moment.  Let's not let it come to that, mmmkay?)

L,E

*with tongue planted firmly in cheek.  you know I love you.

What I'm Supposed to Be Doing

Confession:  Sometimes I feel guilty when I'm snuggling and playing with my kids.  Like I should be doing something better.  I hate myself for admitting it, but it's true.

A little background on why this is bugging me: our church is taking the better part of June to explore the idea of worship more thoroughly -- why we do it, the ways we do it, why some people respond to certain ways and some to others, and why any of that even matters. The concept that keeps needling at my brain through all these classes and sermons and discussions is that we really don't have any good "purposeful" reason to worship. We do it because... that's what we were created to do. And because God deserves it. Sure, we get some personal benefits from it, but that's not why we do it. Worship doesn't have to be practical or useful or efficient or productive or any of those things society wants all of our activities to be. I like this idea, it resonates with me, and I'm pondering it a lot these days.

Well a few mornings ago, both kids were awake and in a quiet snuggly mood, so we sat together in the armchair in Nathan's room for almost an hour.  I nursed Anneliese, I sang songs with Nathan, they poked and tickled and babbled at each other, we read a few books, and they sucked their thumbs while gazing into each other's eyes and slobbering all over my shirt.  It was sweet.  I loved it.  I did. 

But...

In between being amazed at their gorgeous smiles and listening to their cute little voices and drinking in the perfect smell of their drool (yes, I really do think their drool is pretty much the best smell in the world, don't judge), I was also thinking about the to-do list on my kitchen counter.  The sink full of dirty dishes.  The dishwasher that had to be unloaded before I could do the dirty dishes.  The errands that hadn't been run, and now (due to Anneliese's impending naptime) wouldn't get done. Which meant the afternoon would be off schedule, which might even throw a wrench into the rest of the week.

So just scrap to the to-do list and worry about it later, right?

But somehow I can't.  Once I write down what I need to get done for the week, and in which time slots I will accomplish which tasks, I feel very tied down to it.  Yes, I reschedule things all the time to accomodate wrenches in our plans, but I hate doing it.  I feel like a big failure when that has to happen, and it really stresses me out.  Why am I such a slave to my to-do list?

This is dumb. First of all, our schedule only matters to me; I don't answer to a boss, and I assure you Mark doesn't care which day I do groceries vs laundry vs pool playdates. Second, I'm the one who made the schedule; I should be able to change it at my whim. Third, and this is the million-dollar question: why are there never any "unproductive" downtime-type things important enough to make it onto my list in the first place?

Why can I not give myself permission to snuggle for an hour with my kids? To play during times when I don't have an "official" playdate or play-outing scheduled?  To ignore the pile of laundry on my bedroom floor and build lego towers with Nathan? (Don't worry, I do find lots of other ways to ignore the pile of laundry on my bedroom floor.) To lie down with Anneliese for an exciting round of peek-a-boo?  I mean, those things are why I left my job to spend all day with my children, right?  When I left my job last summer, I specifically said I wasn't going to do this -- and I'm mad at myself for letting it happen, despite my best intentions.  I do have time to relax and play with my kids now -- lots of time -- despite what my lists would have me think.

A small part of the problem is that I'm not very good at playtime.  In a lot of ways, I have mad mommy skillz, but playtime isn't one of them.  Mark can walk into a room with no agenda and spend an hour wrestling and giggling and laughing with Nathan and Anneliese.  He thinks up games to play as if he has a long brainstormed list in his back pocket.  (He doesn't. I've checked.) He's just got one idea after another, and he doesn't have to leave the house or plan anything fancy to enjoy lots of downtime with his kids.  Not gonna lie, it makes me jealous sometimes that it seems so effortless for him.  There are even non-parents in my life (Ashley, Nick, Another Nathan to name a few) who seem to be able to walk into a room and handle unplanned playtime... with ease.  Dude!  They don't even have children!  Why can't I do that?

But the heart of the problem is this: I know it's wrong (I know), but it just goes against every fibre of my being to sit down and play when there are things I feel like I'm "supposed" to be doing.  Being bad at playtime might be true (it is), but it's also a convenient excuse for allowing myself to be validated by my usefulness.  Like I have with worship, I need to let go of the idea that everything in my life needs to be productive.  I don't want to be that kind of mommy anymore.

I want to get good at playtime.  I want playing with trucks and reading books and singing songs to be important and necessary parts of my day as a mommy (not just to get energy out, or as part of a bedtime routine).  I want time for laughing and relaxing with my kids to be just as important to carve out of my schedule as time for errands.  I want to snuggle, guilt-free.

I don't know how to end all this rambling since I have no idea how to let go of worrying I'm supposed to be doing something "better."  But I'm going to try.  Someone hold me accountable, ok?

"First" Milkshake

Last week, we decided to use some of the strawberry cider from our produce box to make milkshakes after dinner.  (Don't you like how we can take a healthy idea -- eating lots of locally grown fruits and veggies -- and always manage to turn it into junk food?)  It was a hot day, we had extra time before bed, and it just sounded really good.

And... they were really good.  Sweet and fruity and fresh-tasting, without all the seeds you'd get if you used the strawberries themselves.  Mark is an expert* milkshake-maker.

As far as I knew, this was also Nathan's first taste of milkshake, and he was a big fan.  He started out drinking it with a straw like mommy and daddy:

Then he drank out of it like a normal big-boy cup to get the last little bit out:

Then he stuck his fingers inside to catch some of his treat for Anneliese to lick off, after he saw me doing it and wanted to share some with her too.  (Which was very sweet of him, but also kind of gross. We didn't actually let him succeed.)

And then... I was informed that actually, come to think of it, turns out that... maybe he had some of Daddy's peach milkshake from Chick Fil A earlier this summer.  (Lucky for Mark, sheepish looks good on him.)  Hey at least I got to witness Anneliese's first taste!

Even though it wasn't really his first one, he loved it, and he's now latched onto the idea enough that we've been able to reward bribe him with shakes for things like pooping on the potty, or peeing in public places without his potty.  (Yes, we've upped the ante a little from yogurt raisins.)  Hey, knock it if you want, but it's working.  He pooped in the potty at church yesterday. 

I have a feeling this is going to be the summer of the milkshake.

*But don't ask me how he made them.  I have no idea.  And I intend to remain clueless, lest I be expected to start making them myself.  Until last week I didn't even know milk was required.  Seems obvious now, but... hey, like I said: clueless.

Seven Years

As of today, Mark and I have made it through that supposed "make or break" seventh year of marriage.  I'm not sure I really buy into the seven-year myth, although the last few weeks have prompted some more potentially-dynamic-shifting conversations than we've had in years.  But that's not necessarily a bad thing; actually I think it's encouraging some positive steps for us. 

Maybe we just hit some bigger bumps earlier.  Probably we'll have more bumps down the road somewhere.  But for the most part, this past year has been great for us, and hasn't even come close to the scary myth of the stereotypical seventh year.  But if we're listening to the legend, and this is a make-or-break point... then, we made it.  :)

2003: Pardon my undergarment peeking out from my dress.

2004: Apparently we dressed in gray to match the day.

2005: We're colder here than our smiles would indicate.

2006: We're way hotter here than our smiles would indicate!

2007: I must say, jet lag actually looks ok on us.

2008: Sunburned but happy!

2009: Last kiss of the year!

2010: Wrapping up the seventh year together!

(My goal for the next seven years?  Amongst other things, start taking more pictures of us together.  Apparently we only do it about three times a year, and those are usually vacations.)

I didn't dare hope that the guy I had a crush on who made me laugh and told me I was smart and pretty would also turn out to be such a strong and supportive and loyal spouse, but he is.  I am blessed with a husband who wants to be intentional about the direction and dynamic our relationship takes.  I appreciate that he doesn't shy away from the work of making that happen -- even when it's hard.  I couldn't have hoped for a better teammate and partner to make a family with.  I love that we're in this together, forever and ever amen.  I can't wait for the years ahead when we can help make each other's dreams come true.  I love you, Marky!  (And I still totally have a crush on you.)

Happy anniversary!

Learning from Dad

Today is my dad's 30th father's day.  Thirty years of  being a dad.  Thirty.  He's a great dad, a great father figure, and a super grandpa!

In those years, he's managed to hand out a little bit a whole lot of advice. To many people.  (It's his way.)  But probably to no one more than the seven of us who consider ourselves his "kids." 

So Dad, in honor of your 30th, we put our brains together and came up with some of our favorite things you've told us and shown us over the years -- nuggets of wisdom, advice, and general knowledge that we're apparently still holding on to today (whether we listened well or not is another story).

1.) When given the choice, always choose the adventure over the status quo.
2.) Do push-ups and crunches every day.
3.) Put vaseline on your nipples if you run in the rain; otherwise your shirt will chafe.
4.) Third cousins don't count!!
5.) A place for everything, everything in its place.
6.) The importance of therapy and counseling cannot be overstated.
7.) Make a grocery list.  And make your list in order of where you'll find stuff in the aisles.
8.) If you want to be friends with someone, just introduce yourself.  It really is that easy.
9.) Don't break my little girl's heart.  (I think that one might have been handed out twice now.)
10.) Save ten percent, give then percent, then live off the rest.  Never assume you'll start doing it later. Do it now.
11.) Embrace your inner zen... like Zen Ken.
12.) If you don't feel well, go poop.  You'll feel better.
13.) Do your crossword puzzles in pencil.
14.) Go camping.
15.) You're never too old for a new career.
16.) If you can't see the restaurant from the exit ramp, don't get off the interstate to eat there.  It's too far.
17.) Anyone can be a plumber.  Hot water is on the left, poop runs downhill.  That's all you need to know.
18.) Be really really really cheap.  But don't be too cheap.  (Mixed message what.)
19.) You're never too old to learn to text.
20.) Blood isn't what makes this a family.
21.) If you have a drink in the hot tub, use a plastic wine glass.
22.) You don't need more than thirty minutes of tv a day.
23.) Read lots of books.
24.) Don't talk crap about your in-laws.  It doesn't actually help anything.
25.) America ends at the front door. This is Bumgarner nation, and it isn't a democracy.
26.) Don't slam doors.  (Or your door will get taken away.)
27.) Buy generic brands.
28.) There's only one right way to load the dishwasher.
29.) Pay your credit card in full every month.  Don't carry a balance, ever.
30.) Love, no matter what, even when the people you love make you crazy.  Always make up.

Happy Father's Day!  Here's to another thirty (plus) years!

Erin, Ashley, Brad, Collin, Sean, John and Mark

Toddler Peas

I haven't mentioned our CSA (farm-share) in a while, but it's going really well so far! Every week, we get a big box of fruits and veggies delivered to us. I don't think we have eaten this much produce in years. Ok, ever. And it's awesome.

I like the challenge of finding new and creative ways to use vegetables that I might not buy at the grocery store (hi there escarole). Heck, I like the challenge of just getting a vegetable on the table every night at dinner (sounds simple, but it's something I had gotten very slack about). And I love that my hope of getting Nathan to branch out in trying new foods is totally coming true!

These are some of the foods that we have gotten in our box so far this summer (and yep, Nathan has tried at least a bit of everything I've used our produce to cook up): tomatoes, squash, kale, cabbage, radishes, onions, zucchini, sweet potatoes, red potatoes, green beans, pole beans, garden peas, escarole, strawberries, endive, cilantro, blueberries, dill, cucumber, bok choy, broccoli, asparagus, edamame, corn, peaches, and even a bottle of strawberry cider. Awesome, huh?

So obviously some of these veggies go over better than others. But even just trying them, I think, is teaching him that it's totally ok to taste something new, and he will come out ok on the other side -- no tantrum necessary. He's even eating new non-produce foods better. The day Nathan ate a plate of broccoli and cheese cubes and blueberries for lunch, and the dinner where he ate a steak sandwich and a bowl of squash caserole, both stand out to me as proof that he's broadening his food horizons.

And Nathan and I are still cooking a lot together. He helps me make dinner almost every night, even if it's just shaking seasonings or doing some stirring for me. He's just so excited and independent when he gets to "cook" for us. I love seeing him like that. I find that my old frustration and stress and sense of overwhelm in the dinner hour is pretty much nonexistent on the days when he helps me (although I might have the causation backwards there, I admit!)... it's becoming one of my favorite ways to spend time with him.

One day he even helped me hull a big basket of peas, and then gobbled them up when I served them alongside his grilled cheese for lunch. (To be fair, he was much more excited on the day we used the strawberries to make sorbet and the blueberries to make a cream cheese pound cake. But still.)

So anyway I thought I'd share the recipe for Nathan's favorite peas. A friend from church made these for us when Anneliese was born, and it's one of my favorite ways to make peas now. They're simple enough to please the palate of a toddler, but flavored enough to not bore grownups. We ate these for lunch for about a week straight last month. :)

Toddler Peas

4 handsfuls of fresh garden peas, hulled and washed
1 tomato, diced
1/4 onion, diced
2 tbsp fat-free italian dressing (or whatever you have)
2 cups chicken or veggie broth (optional)

Steam the peas, tomatoes, and onions in a steamer pot/basket over a pot of simmering water (or broth) for about 20 minutes, until peas are tender. Toss with salad dressing and serve. Easy and good.  So good your kids will eat it!  :) 

500th post!!

This, oh loyal blog readers, is my 500th post!*  (I know at least half of you are thinking, "really, only 500? Sure seems like she's blathered on a lot more than that!" and yes, it's true. On both counts.)

I started posting here about the time Nathan was born, prompted by a combination of my new-mom giddiness and friends/grandparents clamoring for pictures and updates. So it started as a great way to keep people in the loop of what our family is up to, and share pictures and stories, etc.  But then it turned into something more for me:

A way to preserve memories -- you think I would remember half the everyday stuff I went through as a mom if I hadn't fancied it blog-worthy and actually written about it?  Um, no.  Nathan dropping the f-bomb at church could be lost in the bowels of forgottenness by now.

A way to tap into my creative side -- not that it takes that much creativity to tell stories about my family, but sitting down and putting my thoughts into words is still a way to stimulate my brain.  Making fun of myself (and my kids. and my husband. and my dogs) while rearranging html code for accompanying pictures isn't exactly what I would call artistry, but it's something closer than what I would have without this blog.

A way to reconnect with old friends and make new ones -- several friendships that had fallen by the wayside after high school and college were rekindled as we blogged our way through becoming mommies -- and those friendships are now stronger than they ever were.  And some of them have introduced me to their friends, so now I have some online buddies that I also consider real life buddies.  It's not creepy, it's cool.  I promise.

So in honor of my 500th, here are some of the top posts from the last three years.  These are the best (or most-read) from each month of this blog... well, pretty much each month... it's not an exact science, people.  Whoever remembers the most of these happening in real time gets an award** in the form of bonus Erin-loves-you points.

2007
7/29 -- my first post: Nathan is Here!
9/29 -- projectile vomit in Target: Amo a Mama
10/19 -- we love charts and graphs: Type A: He Gets it Honest
12/13 --remember when he only slept this way? Touchdown!
12/31 -- apparently knowing the end of Harry Potter was second only to becoming a mom in this banner year: Year in Review, 2007

2008
1/2 -- I failed on all five: Resolutions With Careless Abandon
2/14 -- a cyber/sexting story: Happy Valentine's Day!
3/30 -- not too old to fall off our bikes: Our First Tri
4/7 -- why I don't shave, ever: In Defense of Leg Hair
6/25 -- Mark's non-battleship injury: Softball... Hard After All
7/2 -- hilariously dumb: How to Register Your Baby for Rehab
7/28 -- Mark's awesome (terrible) singing:  Birthday Injuries
10/17-- Nathan's fake laugh: "What's That?"
11/8 -- Nathan drops the f-bomb at church: Fork, or...?
12/12 -- it's about time: First Steps

2009
1/1 -- number 3 came back and bit me in the uterus: 2009 Resolutions
1/20 -- you thought today was about Obama? Nathan's First Snow
3/2 -- going blog-public about Beanie: Ready or Not, Coming This Fall
4/17 -- forgotten at church: I Shouldn't Be Allowed to Have Two Kids
3/27 -- this is amusing to me now: How I Decided Not to Cloth Diaper
6/14 -- the real memories: Un-Obituary for My Grandpa Schnack
7/28 -- such a Rule Follower: Nathan Loves to Brush His Teeth
8/26 -- pregnancy is never not degrading: Toddler & the OB's Potty
10/13 -- welcome, Anneliese: Happy Birth Day, Beanie!
12/21 -- toddler mug shot on a tree: Worst Ornament Ever
12/30 -- she got her beauty from me: Like Mommy, Like Daughter

2010
2/22 -- clearly I get my crazy from my mom: Space Bags
3/19 -- cloth diapering confession: I'm a Fluffymailaholic
4/13 -- although words can't describe it: Half-Birthday Love Letter
5/6 -- a piece of my mommyhood, gone: Simon, 2004 - 2010
6/14 -- apparently you people love Crazy Mark: Hup Holland!

So if you've been reading forever, or just a little while, stop working for half your day, and join me in re-living some bloggity memories!  Or, you know... bookmark it and come back later.  Whatevs.  I *heart* all you readers anyway.  You make me feel loved.  (Especially when you comment.  Just sayin'.)

*Since Mark wrote a (very) few of these 500, so I guess I should say our 500th post.

**Ashley already wins, by the way.  Those of you who have met her know that she always wins in these situations.  Also I think she's the only one who's been reading since the very beginning. Just wanted to give the rest of you a fair warning that you're competing for second place at best.

The Best Worst Face

This picture of our nephew Jeb is half heart-wrenchingly awful, and half hilariously awesome.  And was therefore too good not to share as soon as his mom Emily (Mark's stepsister) emailed it to me.  This is clearly the best sad-baby face in the history of sadness or babies or faces.   

And apparently when he puts it on, mommy and daddy give him whatever he wants.

Yeah I'm pretty sure he's a genius.  A brilliant-sad-baby-faced genius.

Hup Holland (Or Something)

Let's count the things going wrong in the scenario below:1.) Mark and Nick are watching the world cup at seven thirty in the morning. On a Monday. Before work. Who does that?

2.) As you can tell by all the orange, they're not even cheering for the United States. They're all about team Nederland. And don't give me any crap about dual citizenship and culture and roots. That's just UNPATRIOTIC. Yeah I said it.

3.) The hats. Oh, the hats. Mark's umbrella hat has been a part of our family for far too many years now (you should ask him to tell you about the time it got him in trouble with a cop in a stadium in Tallahassee a decade ago). My heart won't be broken when (if... I meant if!) it meets an untimely death at the hands of, say (and this is just off the top of my head, mind you), our food processor or the lawn mower. And the orange Nazi helmet Nick is wearing? I don't... I can't... I have no words. (I'm sad to say Mark is the proud owner of that one too.)

4.) They're wearing scarves* in hundred-degree weather. Someone please explain to me why scarves are a necessary part of being a soccer fan. I seriously do not get it.

5.) All this cheering? It's because of a replay of a goal. A replay. Because apparently there's enough nothing happening during soccer matches that they have to show each goal at least twenty-eight times. And yep, Mark cheers for each one. (Actually, he has to cheer at the replays, because he has a knack for leaving the room -- or today, rewinding the dvr to check out the men Nick spotted running through the stands in full-body orange spandex -- whenever anyone actually scores a goal.)

Honestly, I'm glad to see my family having fun. But still, this tournament is like a month long, right? It's really cutting into my non-football-season sense of orangeless normalcy around here.

*To be fair, Nick wasn't actually looking too crazy until I told him I was going to take a picture. But he did show up at our house just after 7am wearing a Dutch soccer jersey, so I'm still lumping him in to the insanity.

8 Months: Social Butterfly

Anneliese is eight months old today!

The monthly milestone kind of caught me off guard this time around. You know that whole thing about how the days might go by slowly but the months go way too fast? Totally and completely true.
If there's one word that can sum up the last month with Anneliese, it would probably be social. She's turned into quite an interactive and charming little lady:

- She's playing more often (and more intentionally) with Nathan.
- She reaches her arms out for hugs and to be picked up whenever a grownup comes around.
- She said her first word a few weeks ago (dada), and we're fairly sure she's saying hi now too.
- Her babbling is starting to sound more like actual conversation (the tone is different if we're reading vs playing vs eating vs asking her questions, etc).
- She's increasingly talented at voicing her displeasure when things don't go her way.
- She stops mid-nursing to give me a milky grin and touch my face.
- She laughs when anyone around her laughs.
- She cries when we leave her in her crib for naps or bedtime. Even though she's still a good sleeper, she's clearly less and less thrilled when social hour is over and it's time for rest.
- She has a smile for almost everyone, but an especially big grin for the people she recognizes and knows best.
- She understands lots of words, even though she can't say them. She responds to Anneliese, no, Nathan, mommy, hi, bye, daddy, Bowden, eat, milk and go. And she understands night-night too, but that elicits a slightly, um... different reaction than the others.
- She'll take the lead in initiating games. For instance, she just started playing peekaboo where she hides her own face and surprises us, instead of just the other way around. She finds it hilarious. Not gonna lie, I do too.While she's not nearly as talkative as Nathan (even when he was her age), I still think she's our more outgoing child. I don't know what that feeling is based on, really.... I guess just the way she interacts with other people? But I think we have a little extrovert on our hands after all. One out of two ain't bad, right? ;)

Happy eight months to our little social butterfly!

At the (Home) Car Wash

Nathan helped Mark wash the cars this week. A friend of mine said that it's kind of a daddy-kid rite of passage, and I think he might be right. I remember pictures of the three of us helping my dad wash our family's cars when we were this age. So soapy, yet so dirty at the same time. And so convinced we were really helping. :)Like with everything Nathan does, he employed a system and was convinced that his way was the best way. Now we wash this door. Now we do this wheel. No, with the brush! Now it's time to spray. Now we do the other side. The right side. He takes his helping duties very seriously around here!
Besides, what better way to spend an afternoon with Daddy when it's too hot to wear more than just underwear?

Delayed (and Carefree)

Despite Anneliese's strong start when it comes to gross motor development, it looks like she's about as delayed as Nathan was. With one key difference: we don't care at all this time around.

It's funny, actually, how similarly she's developing compared to Nathan (who rolled around 7 months, sat up around 8 months, put weight on his legs at 10 months, crawled around 13 months, and wasn't steadily walking til 18 months). We didn't realize it until a few weeks ago when we were editing video footage of Nathan's first year (to make this slideshow), but we looked at some of those clips, looked at our daughter, and it was the same.

Well, almost the same.

Rolling. While she can roll from tummy to back, she doesn't do it. Seriously, she was only good about it (doing it at least a couple times a week) when she first learned, but now: nope. She won't do it unless the situation is dire (meaning she's been screaming for 5+ minutes and no one has rolled her over yet). And that happens... rarely. She also refuses to roll from back to tummy... ever. I think she's done it maybe five times in her life, and they were all months ago. She does know how to roll onto her side, though (always towards that left thumb), and that's how she prefers to sleep nowadays.

Sitting. She has been so close on the verge of sitting up for almost 2 months, but she still can't quite do it. She's sitting supported (on a soft surface like our lap or wedged into a corner of the couch), and her balance is improving. It would be convenient to blame this on her height, but the bottom line is she still can't do it.

Standing. Obviously we didn't expect her to stand alone at this age, but the truth is most 7-8 month olds can stand up on their legs as long as someone's holding their arms or chests. She will bear weight on her legs in the jumperoo (which is one step better than Nathan would do), but it takes mucho coaxing to get her to do it at other times.

Crawling. To give her some credit, she does tend to twist around whether she's on her back or her belly. It's probably not intentional (more the result of trying -- and failing -- to roll over), but it does mean that she's using her body and her muscles. Which, even if uncontrolled and unsuccessful, is still a starting point.

So why aren't we worried? Why are we deliberately not doing anything about it?

Well first, because Nathan turned out fine. He's still a little clumsier and less coordinated than other kids his age, but it's not causing any amount of dysfunction in his life (that's my mom's wise rule for deciding if something is a problem or not). And all those interventions we felt pushed into doing for him -- the visits to physical therapy, the arguing with social workers who kept telling me I was in denial that he was behind (I was never in denial that he was behind, I was in denial that his delay was a problem... and I still stand by that), the countless weight checks, etc -- made him miserable, and us too. Knowing that Nathan came out ok on the other side of his infancy delays gives us some reassurance about Anneliese.

Second, because Anneliese is steadily improving. Sure, the gross motor stuff is at a slower (a lot slower) than other kids her age, but it hasn't hit a plateau yet. So as long as she's learning, she can do it as slowly as she wants, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not going to micromanage her learning pace.

Third, because she is developing other skills. Her babbling has changed in tone and intent (I think she might be saying hi now, as well as dada). Her ability to grasp and play with toys is improving in leaps and bounds. She is increasingly social. So, just like Nathan, the gross motor development seems to have been put on a back burner while her brain works on something else. That's fine by me.

Fourth, and this is a big one -- she's growing. The first trigger for our (well, our doctor's) fears about Nathan was the weight loss. The gross motor delays seemed to be a by-product of that. And Anneliese's weight curve has flattened out, for sure (she's actually a few ounces down from last month), but nowhere near the frightening extent that Nathan's did.

When we saw our doctor earlier this week (for an entirely unrelated issue), he did express some concerns about her (lack of) motor skills, but was in complete agreement with my mommy instinct to just let her be. I love that he trusts me enough to honor my desire for as few developmental interventions as possible. Assuming she keeps gaining weight, and keeps improving (however slowly), we're just going to follow her instincts and throw the What to Expect mentality right out the window. It's not for us.

So... cheers to an amazing free-range daughter, who clearly has been putting all her developmental efforts into perfecting that gorgeous smile. And that's good enough for me.

Big Boy Underwear

I have been delaying putting these words on the internet, since I have a feeling that as soon as I do it, my child will make a liar out of me. (It's happened before.)

But at some point I have to take a deep breath and announce to the world what has happened over the last week or so:

Nathan is pretty much potty-trained.

Yup, he's there.

And he doesn't have to be naked to do it. He wears his big-boy underwear all day, even if we leave the house, and he consistently pees and poops in the potty. (And I keep joking that family is single-handedly keeping the yogurt raisin industry in business.)

He's not perfect at it -- we still have some fine-tuning* to do. He can't go all night (and he wears diapers during naps, though 90% of the time he wakes up dry). And he won't go in public without his potty. And he won't let other adults help him, besides Mark and me. But we'll get there.

And in the meantime, he is so proud of himself. He loves his underwear. He loves that he's wearing underwear like Daddy's. He loves to pee, he loves to flush, he loves to tell everyone about it. And while I have to admit that the underwear stage is more of a pain (for me) than the diaper stage, the inconvenience of staying near the potty (or hauling his seat around with us) is totally worth it to see the grin on his face when he gets to tell us kept his underwear dry.

(I can't decide if the big-boy underwear trumps the baby-boy thumb sucking, but I'm ok if he lives right in between those two worlds... for a few more months, anyway. At least until he's three.)

I'm so proud of him for deciding to get on board with the pottying thing, and deciding to step up and be a big boy with big-boy underwear. Way to go, Nathan!

*Anyone with hints on these fine-tuning issues, help me!!!

The Wean is On

[Disclaimer for today: this is a post very much related to boobage. The gentlemen in the crowd (yes, there are a handful of guys reading, my sweet supportive-but-slightly-awkward-around-breastfeeding little brother included) might not be interested in continuing below. But if you're unfazed, and I think most of you are, then by all means hop on board!]

So. Weaning.

I kind of don't know where to start with this post. Guess I'll just jump right in.

I don't like the idea of a mommy-led wean. I am fully in favor of following a baby's cues on when she needs less from mommy, in terms of both the nutrition and comfort that comes from the breastfeeding relationship. I don't think there's a magic age or size or stage that's right for every baby (or mom or family or situation). I know that the luxury of letting a baby wean on her own schedule doesn't work for everyone, but ideally for me, I wanted to let her choose when she needed less breastfeeding, and eventually none. That's what I did with Nathan, and that's been my plan with Anneliese.

But. Due to a couple of kid-free trips this summer, I'm having to, um... amend that plan a little.

In early July, I'm a bridesmaid in an out-of-town, no-kids wedding for which "destination childcare" was turning into a major expense and headache, so we (reluctantly, I admit) decided not to even bring Anneliese in town. And hey if we're leaving her in July, then might as well take that 30th birthday cruise in August instead of November (which would be after Anneliese turns 1, and also is the actual month of our birthdays), because summer is the season of accessible and cheap/free childcare, right? So, that's what we're doing.

These are both trips I want to make, and would be significantly easier (and, dare I admit it to the internet? more pleasurable) without the kids in tow. Yes, even my unweaned infant daughter. Selfish? Maybe. But if we're paying for trips to sunny romantic destinations -- and we're very decided that both trips are happening -- then I kind of want to have some real adult time.

Anneliese will be just over eight months for our first trip. That's probably a little younger than I would have left my unweaned baby in other circumstances (especially for three nights in a row), but those "other circumstances" are sort of irrelevant, don't you think? Because they're not our circumstances. We have trips. Which we're excited about. I'm honored to be a part of my friend Sarah's wedding, and Mark and I have been hankering for a romantic vacation for months. So... Anneliese will spend three nights without mommy. Or mommy's breasts. And I feel very sure it will be fine for her to drink "boob in a bottle" for a few days.

So the whole point of all this is to say that as much as I hate the idea of a mommy-led wean, I am officially putting Anneliese on notice. Not to stop nursing, but to get down to a set number of feedings per day so that I can predict how much and how often she needs to eat, and pump and plan accordingly when I'm away.

I told myself that at the beginning of May I'd drop her down from six feedings a day to five, and then drop one a month until she turned one (and let her hang onto that last one until she was ready to give it up). Except, here's the thing: what I was calling six feedings a day was actually a lot more. She had six "normal" nursings, but at least once a day she'd get an extra one, either for a quick snack when I was caught out and about with no food (guilty! all the time guilty!), or when she was upset and needed some extra comfort, etc. Plus, about half the nights in April and May, she was waking up around 10pm for an extra meal (that habit has pretty much stopped now). So, in case you're counting... that made about eight nursings most days.

Which made the May drop down to five a big FAIL.

But after a whole month of planning and re-thinking the nursing and pumping schedule, we pretty much did it. We got her down to five (or six... ish) a day. But now suddenly it's June. And she's supposed to be down to four nursings. Yeah, um... she's not.

But it's only the 7th! I still have time! And honestly, if it doesn't happen, and she doesn't get down to three by the time I leave her with my mom over July 4th weekend, it's ok. I have more than 100 oz of milk in the freezer, and if that runs out, she can (gasp!) drink some formula. (Or, knowing my mom, supplement with sweet potatoes.) I'm not going to be too rigid about this.

Still, I know that this is technically the start of the weaning process. And while I'm excited for Anneliese to be big enough and old enough to allow me the freedom to go on childless trips, I'm also a little sad because I don't want to rush her out of her babyhood too soon.

Also, I don't want my boobs to hurt. {{sigh}} So I'm now off to pump.

[See, men? That wasn't too bad now, was it?]