He's Back.

*WARNING: GRAPHIC IMAGES AHEAD*

This time, he's focused on any and all kitchen cabinets. Hide your styrofoam dishes and plastic cups, they seem to be his items of choice. Forget trying to distract him with actual toys that one would think he'd be interested in, because he's not. This is what he's after:



Judging by the images below, he will also be charged with indecent exposure due to lack of clothing:





It seems he's becoming more daring now, as his getaway vehicle has been upgraded to a walker, if you will note the left hand corner of the image below:



Folks, this is serious. Again, please contact Mommy ASAP if you have any information on the whereabouts of his next strike.

We thank you for your cooperation.

Hot Fun in the Summertime

Who Needs Mondays Anyway?

I'm voting Mondays off the island. There seems to be a pattern here. Every Monday I've had for the past month has totally sucked. They just aren't good days for me and it all seems to start on Sunday evenings, just ask my husband. Every Sunday afternoon, the crabbiness slowly sets in. I'm irritable, annoyed, cranky, and just cannot be pleased about anything. I nag him, I freak out about the littlest things, and then just plain refuse to sit back and enjoy the afternoon like most normal people. Then it creeps in...Monday morning. It sweeps over the house like an ugly dark cloud even on the sunniest of days. It hollers out: "Don't bother getting out of bed today, you fool. I'm going to make your day more miserable than you can ever imagine." If I didn't have a one year old, I'd listen to the voice and pull the covers back up over my head, however, that may qualify as ch*ld neglect if I continue to sleep the day away. At what age can kids make their own breakfast anyway?

I can't seem to find one good thing about Mondays. Not one. Tuesdays however, are good days. For some reason, I'm raring to go come Tuesday morning. I'm awake, I'm perky, I'm organized, I'm excited, I'm ready for the rest of the week. Why can't that happen one day early? I'm so confused.

At least one good thing came on this humid Monday afternoon. My baby boy took his first step toward his Momma. It was really exciting. It even warranted a phone call to the husband which I try not to do when he's at work. He was excited too.

Okay so this Monday wasn't all that bad. I still dread the next one. Is it Friday
yet?

*update* Just when I think I'm having a rotten day...I hear of a local Mom who lost her 4 month old baby boy to SIDS last weekend. Now that's a rotten day. A changed perspective just took place. I welcome any day as long as I've got Brendan as a part of it.

Momma's Little Baby

...is almost little no longer. This photo was taken last Labor Day at a friends house:


Here he is at their 4th of July picnic, sitting in that same chair:


and yes he does have cookie crumbs on his chin.

He's growing up way too fast for my liking, but I do love this age. The animation, the curiosity, the emotion, the expressions, the language. "Ca" means car. "Ba" Means ball. "BaBa" means bottle. "Hot" means...hot. "Poppa" means...poppa. Oh, and we can't forget "da" which he just started, it either means dog or he's wondering where Daddy is. No "MaMa" yet but I'll wait.

And I guess I should've labeled this post "One of those days...Part II." I knew he had something else going on, that it wasn't just the teething. Isn't it funny how we just know? I mean, they don't call us the mother for no good reason. He woke up at 5 a.m. today with a fever of 102. I know it's not necessarily cause for sheer panic, yet I was indeed, panicked. I did the usual...put a call into the dr.,tylenol, cool bath, ice pops, pedialyte, and kept checking his temp. It wouldn't go down. And not only was he boiling, but was completely lethargic. My boy is never lethargic. Right about the time I started to sob, the nurse called me back to check on him and I lost it. The conversation is a little blurry, but was something like "He's so tired, and hot, and tired, with little bags under his eyes, cheeks are firey red, he cries and cries and wants to be held and I don't mind holding him but he's so hot so everytime I pick him I continue to worry and I just hate seeing him like this because his little spirit is just gone and I'm so sad..." Next thing I know we had an appointment to see the doctor at 2:30 and we were out the door. *Nurse Sandra- you rock*

Diagnosis: coxsackie. I knew it wasn't just the teething. I know there isn't much we can do but let it run the course, but I knew in my gut that something was wrong.

So...this was my little man this afternoon. How many one year olds actually lie on a couch to watch TV? Sick ones do.



Five minutes later...it was lights out. Don't you just want to snuggle with him and make him all better? So sad...



On a lighter note, my friend Maureen emailed me a photo of us from the 1st birthday party:



Don't we make a cute couple?

One of those days...

where you sit and wish it was almost over, and the clock hasn't even struck noon yet. Brendan is getting all sorts of teeth and is not handling it well to say the least. Took him to the doctor HOPING that the kid is suffering from a violent ear infection just so that we'd have some sort of explanation for all the crab-ass-ness, but no such luck. "He's getting teeth Mrs. L, gotta be patient!" Patient my ass. I was really starting to wonder how much I could get for him on eBay. Kidding! Don't call the DCFS on me just yet.

The humidity could not be any worse. I am a victim of "natural curl." Which in bad hair day terms is "FRIZZ-O-RAMA" in this kind of weather. I look like total white trash and it's way beyond my control, literally. I've tried all the hair products that vow to tame even the worst of the frizzies, but nothing can slick down this disaster. Nothing. Poor Brendan is taking after me in this department also. Together we look like we just walked through a carwash. Luckily the husband only midly teases about it and has chosen to stay with me in spite of all the horrible hair days. And they are horrible...trust me...

After putting the monster down for bed tonight I noticed that the husband left the cover off of the grill yesterday. Being the responsible wife that I am, stepped out to throw it back on. Um, bad idea! An entire family of HUGE BLACK BEETLES has formed a temporary breeding ground underneath, and I refuse to be the one to break up that kind of family. That shall remain on the ground until husband comes home.

Ugh, just one of those days. Thank God the monster was quite happy with popsicles and goldfish for dinner because this Momma was way too tired for anything else. I suppose I'm in for a lifetime of these days when the clock cannot turn slow enough. I'm assuming that's why God invented wine?

Idaho Is...

Smelling the fresh mountain air that makes you wish could be bottled up and taken along.


Lounging in the yard that Mommy used to play in.


Getting called "buckshot" by Grandpa Pat. What does buckshot mean?

Mommy and Aunt Katrina, we wish we'd seen more of her.


Mommy and Uncle Shawn catching up on old times.


Swingin on the porch with my buddy Danielle. Gosh, if I were a few years older...


Taking scenic photos on very windy days.


Going for walks over the Long Bridge.


Awesome homecooked meals.


Swimming in the baby pool.


Taking walks to visit the neighbors with Poppa Tom.


Baths in Grandma Shelley's BIG bath tub.


Fighting with Cousin Abbie. I love her though.


Attracting all the neighborhood ladies. That's right. I'm that gorgeous.


Reintroducing Cousin Ty to the crawling technique, he so gets me.


Going for rides in Uncle Randy's monster truck. Only Mommy got to do that though- no room for the carseat. Bummer.


Playing beautiful music at Grandma Flossie's house.


Grandpa Pat showing me around his sanctuary (garage) and telling me what I'll inherit one day.


Playing catch with Daddy and Grandpa Pat.


Spending time with Cousin Mahala, watching her pick weeds.


Getting rocked to sleep by Grandma Flossie.


Spending good quality time with Daddy, getting launched into the air.


Picking dandelions, and then trying to eat them.


Looking at the fish at the Fish Hatchery. That's where Mommy spent lots of time as a little girl!


Hanging out with Uncle Shawn and Aunt Katrina.


Going for a ride in Grandpa's Rhino. I'm hoping to inherit that.

Driving the rhino...well, pretending to drive...


Swimming with Auntie Andie.


Hangin' with Uncle Randy.


Eating on the deck...nude if you want.


Loves from Gramma Shelley. She digs me.

Once Upon A Stormy Night

...a young mother is home with her one year old son, all snuggly asleep in his bed, while she roams the house trying to find something to do. The cable has gone out due to either the thunder or lightening, or both, which means that there is no TV or computer to entertain her until she turns in for the night. Cleaning is her forte, but she is tired of cleaning. Organizing seems like a good idea, so upstairs she heads to put some clothes away and dilly dally around the 2nd floor.

She spots a stack of baby books she's been collecting for quite some time, leaning against the dresser in the guest room. Amongst them are baby journals given as gifts, some are chock full of baby names, and some are just "what to expect" while expecting. Out of curiosity, she sits on the guest bed with the stack of books and starts to thumb through the pages in one of the journals, since she'd been too busy to ever sit and look through it before. Or so she thought...

The world stops spinning and everything comes to a complete standstill. The shaky words begin..."I can't believe I'm pregnant already. I can tell Matt is a little stressed about it, I mean, we've got a massive hole in our backyard and there is no way our house will be finished by the time this baby is born. There's just no way. I should be happy, but I'm kind of...not. Is that bad?" Time suddenly reversed back to the summer of 2006 and she let the memory just flow, like a dam breaking over a waterfall.

Just a few days later she went in for her first ultrasound with her mother-in-law for some support. Little did she know, she'd need it. The technician gouped the gel all over her belly and proceeded with the ultrasound, like she'd done it a million times that day already. She's supposed to be a pro. But how come this pro couldn't find the baby's heartbeat? She tried, but couldn't find it. Some words were spoken..."it's probably too early to tell....maybe you've got your period dates all mixed up...it's just too soon in the pregnancy...." She had stopped listening at "I can't find a heartbeat."

The ride home was dull compared to the ride down. On the ride down, her belly was doing flip flops as she'd finally gathered up some excitement for this pregnancy, for this child. She had a handful of baby names she liked that she'd later run by her husband. She had the pregnancy journal her father-in-law picked out at some store. She had a yellow onesie that her best friend gave her as a congrats gift. Even though the house was far from ready, everything was lining up. It was all falling into place. Everything felt perfect on the ride down. Now the car felt foreign. She didn't want to be in that car anymore, she wanted to be in a different car, in a better mood, with a healthy baby growing inside of her.

She was told to wait another week, for another ultrasound. That, was the longest week of her life. Laying in bed for six nights, next to her husband, wondering if it was just the 2 of them, or if a third little person was listening to them chat about their day. Keeping busy was key, or else she'd drive herself crazy with the wonder of it all. "Are you there baby? It's me, Mommy." As if she was going to get an answer...but it was worth a shot when nothing else was making any sense at all.

The second ultrasound. This time, her husband is present. He sits at the end of the bed while she prays for the technician to work her magic. "Please, find something. Look harder this time. Don't miss my baby's heartbeat." And yet, nothing. She sits up and wipes the gel off her belly, as if she's trying to erase the pregnancy altogether. She wishes she could. She wishes she hadn't gotten pregnant at all. She wishes....she doesn't know what she wishes. She just knows she didn't wish for this.

Another drive home with no baby. In just a matter of weeks, her life went from expecting, to nervously expecting, to happily expecting, to scared to death, to completely crushed, to a Mother who had to say goodbye before she got to say hello. She knew there would be a reason for all of this one day, and people tried to reassure of the exact same thing, but her heart wouldn't truly accept it. At least that is until...



This little person came along to make her a true believer in "everything happens for a reason."

Maybe that's why she didn't bother keeping up with the pregnancy journal that time around. Who needs a journal to remind her of all the precious moments she had while carrying him for so long? Who needs a few scribbled words to recollect what it felt like to hear the words "We have a heartbeat, and it's excellent." Who needs a specific date to mark when and where she was when she felt him move for the first time? It was January 15th, 2007, at her in-laws house by the way. Who needs that first journal of that first pregnancy, when she will always know deep down in her heart, who that baby gave up it's place for?



It had been so long since she dug out that part of her, and it felt good. It will always be there, it's just put away now. The journal is put away, her son is lying in his crib, and she is a Mom who continues to roam the house, looking for something to do on a stormy night.