Today, Isaac announced that he had to go peepee and proceeded to take off his pajama pants and diaper. Now, we've been here before, and I was hardly thinking anything would come of it. He told me that he wanted to sit on the potty, which, ok, knock yourself out. So he took his bare little hiney up the stairs and the next thing I know, I can hear the unmistakable sound of tinkling! (One perk of toddlers never closing the bathroom door is the ability to remote monitor.)
I looked at Mikayla and said, "I think he's going peepee on the potty!!" Her little face lit up and we raced upstairs to celebrate. We jumped up and down, we clapped, we made all the fuss. Isaac was SO PROUD that he sat there and insisted on trying again which of course did not happen.
So basically he managed to use the potty without any assistance or prompting from his lazy momma, who didn't even move from the couch when he headed upstairs to the bathroom. (In my defense, I was working on a simple homeschool calendar.) I am so curious to see where this will go! He asked to wear his big boy undies which...what's the worst that could happen? A little extra laundry?
Stay tuned! For today we have one very proud two year old, who got to pick popsicles for morning snack. And I printed off a Cars-themed potty chart for him. Potty training 16 days before moving to our new house is the best idea ever, amirite?
When They Grow Up
As the kids were eating their snack of cheddar cheese and Rye with Caraway Seeds Triscuits (my toddlers have the palate of middle-aged men), Isaac asked me to sing my lullaby. One of the lines is, "Who will you be tomorrow? What are the paths you will follow?"
Mikayla interjected then with, "I will be a mommy!"
"I hope so, sweet girl."
Isaac, predictably, then declared, "I will be a daddy!"
"I hope so, buddy."
And then M again: "I will follow Jesus!"
Oh my melting heart. But wait... "I will follow Jesus there, and there, and there, and there!" This devolved into several minutes of my children giggling and pointing to all the places where they will follow Jesus. A bit literal, but still cute. Finally Mikayla reiterated, "I will follow God everywhere he goes!"
Bless. I hope so, sweet girl.
Mikayla interjected then with, "I will be a mommy!"
"I hope so, sweet girl."
Isaac, predictably, then declared, "I will be a daddy!"
"I hope so, buddy."
And then M again: "I will follow Jesus!"
Oh my melting heart. But wait... "I will follow Jesus there, and there, and there, and there!" This devolved into several minutes of my children giggling and pointing to all the places where they will follow Jesus. A bit literal, but still cute. Finally Mikayla reiterated, "I will follow God everywhere he goes!"
Bless. I hope so, sweet girl.
The Most Epic Bathroom Stop Ever
The kids and I just returned from an almost-two-week adventure to western PA to visit my family. It was a whirlwind visit full of friends, a Children's Museum, a birthday party, a wedding, a fantasy football draft (keep the dream alive, gentlemen), and more. While not exactly restful, it was refreshing, like a deep cleansing breath. I have returned ready to collapse in exhaustion organize and pack for our big move in just over three weeks.
With three children under four years old, not all moments were equally refreshing. Some were chaotic, a few were downright laughable in their absurdity. The following story relates one of those moments. And yes, I made a note in my phone so that I would remember to tell you about this, dear readers, because this was one of those tales that must be told. And since the kids are taking awesome naps today, no doubt because of our little chat on self control during story time, I have the opportunity to share it.
We had stopped for gas somewhere in the middle of PA. The details escape me, but I do know that it wasn't the time when I had only four miles left on my gas gauge and the good Lord dropped an exit out of nowhere 1/4 of a mile up the highway. The things we do to preserve car naps - why, yes, I did drive past a perfectly good exit with several functioning gas stations, with under 20 miles til empty. Only to discover that the next exit (only seven miles away, they said; you can get off the highway there instead, they said) had NO SERVICES. We were running on fumes and prayers that time.
But no, this wasn't that time. This was the time with the yellow jackets. It started minimally enough - Joel was pumping gas, and suddenly flung his sandal off of his foot at me. "What?!" "There was a yellow jacket by my foot." Oh. Ok. Aside from my questioning his aim (do I look like I need a flying sandal followed by a stinging insect in my life?), that was that.
A few minutes later, I pulled the van over to a parking spot so that I could sit and feed Oliver. Joel took Isaac along for a bathroom visit. Rather than keep the car running for the A/C, I decided to roll down the windows a bit. We began to nurse, and M had the run of the car because reasons.
Suddenly, M was freaking out and trying to leap from the front passenger seat into my lap or the CD player or wherever she could get to. Mind you, I was holding a peacefully nursing infant. This limits the mobility somewhat, particularly within the confines of a bucket seat with a steering wheel. So she's shrieking, and I'm going, "What? What?", trying to convey a sense of urgency and helpfulness while not disturbing my baby. "There's a bee!!!" she yelled. Sure enough. So now, nursing baby, steering wheel, freaking out three-year-old, and a yellow jacket. It was like one of those silly songs ("there's a frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea") except with more danger and very, very real.
Somehow with no arms, I managed to eradicate the yellow jacket, calm the child, and roll up the windows. I will accept my Mother of the Year award at a later date (wait til you hear about the way I reached and returned my screaming baby's pacifier while driving down the highway). For now, imagine me continuing to nurse and accepting the new, warmer, stuffier atmosphere inside the van. And then?
"I have to poop! I have to poop!" I'm not even kidding. But don't fret, gentle reader, we have a small potty that we take in the van on long rides for just such an occasion. What mother wouldn't volunteer to be stuck in a confined space with recycled air with their child's waste, amirite? So M dropped her drawers and made it in time. But then. My eyes slowly began to water as the oxygen content of the van dropped precariously.
You know what's an awesome choice to have to make, while STILL nursing a baby behind the steering wheel of a minivan? Yellow jackets or muggy poop air. Which will be my immediate future until my husband finally returns from his apparently epic journey through Middle Earth to Mount Gas Station Bathroom? (P.S. WHAT IS HE DOING IN THERE?)
I decided to gamble with the yellow jackets. I mean, what were the odds that that same little bugger was hanging around just waiting to make my life a wailing, flailing nightmare again?
Yeah. And he brought a friend.
So, the muggy poop air cleared out a bit, but a moment later M's high-pitched Mommy Alert System was back in full force, notifying me of not one, but TWO BEES!! IN THE CAR!! Oh sweet mercy. I begged the yellow jackets with my eyes to return from whence they came, because at least if I could refrain from shrieking and jumping, then we wouldn't add a screaming baby to the mix. File that under "last thing I freaking need right now, or ever". Apparently they did fly out the window because they aren't still there, and as I again telepathically rolled up the windows (I guess? I was still nursing Oliver?), Joel finally emerged from the Gates ofMordor Sunoco. He was carrying a small bag of snacks, by way of explanation for why it took him three days to get to the bathroom and back. You would admire my self-control; I didn't even chuck the baby at him and run away in tears.
Yes, twenty ounces of Sprite and some Cool Ranch Doritos TOTALLY made up for my having to battle the Death Eaters by myself (great, now I am mixing my epic movie references). At least I survived to tell about it! And to make up for my great travail, Joel volunteered for potty dumping duty (wait, did he volunteer, or did the look in my eyes leave him no choice? I'm not sure.). At the end of the day, thankfully, nobody was stung, and no accidents were had.
All in all, then, I guess I'd call it a success. Bahahaha.
With three children under four years old, not all moments were equally refreshing. Some were chaotic, a few were downright laughable in their absurdity. The following story relates one of those moments. And yes, I made a note in my phone so that I would remember to tell you about this, dear readers, because this was one of those tales that must be told. And since the kids are taking awesome naps today, no doubt because of our little chat on self control during story time, I have the opportunity to share it.
We had stopped for gas somewhere in the middle of PA. The details escape me, but I do know that it wasn't the time when I had only four miles left on my gas gauge and the good Lord dropped an exit out of nowhere 1/4 of a mile up the highway. The things we do to preserve car naps - why, yes, I did drive past a perfectly good exit with several functioning gas stations, with under 20 miles til empty. Only to discover that the next exit (only seven miles away, they said; you can get off the highway there instead, they said) had NO SERVICES. We were running on fumes and prayers that time.
But no, this wasn't that time. This was the time with the yellow jackets. It started minimally enough - Joel was pumping gas, and suddenly flung his sandal off of his foot at me. "What?!" "There was a yellow jacket by my foot." Oh. Ok. Aside from my questioning his aim (do I look like I need a flying sandal followed by a stinging insect in my life?), that was that.
A few minutes later, I pulled the van over to a parking spot so that I could sit and feed Oliver. Joel took Isaac along for a bathroom visit. Rather than keep the car running for the A/C, I decided to roll down the windows a bit. We began to nurse, and M had the run of the car because reasons.
Suddenly, M was freaking out and trying to leap from the front passenger seat into my lap or the CD player or wherever she could get to. Mind you, I was holding a peacefully nursing infant. This limits the mobility somewhat, particularly within the confines of a bucket seat with a steering wheel. So she's shrieking, and I'm going, "What? What?", trying to convey a sense of urgency and helpfulness while not disturbing my baby. "There's a bee!!!" she yelled. Sure enough. So now, nursing baby, steering wheel, freaking out three-year-old, and a yellow jacket. It was like one of those silly songs ("there's a frog on the bump on the log in the hole in the bottom of the sea") except with more danger and very, very real.
Somehow with no arms, I managed to eradicate the yellow jacket, calm the child, and roll up the windows. I will accept my Mother of the Year award at a later date (wait til you hear about the way I reached and returned my screaming baby's pacifier while driving down the highway). For now, imagine me continuing to nurse and accepting the new, warmer, stuffier atmosphere inside the van. And then?
"I have to poop! I have to poop!" I'm not even kidding. But don't fret, gentle reader, we have a small potty that we take in the van on long rides for just such an occasion. What mother wouldn't volunteer to be stuck in a confined space with recycled air with their child's waste, amirite? So M dropped her drawers and made it in time. But then. My eyes slowly began to water as the oxygen content of the van dropped precariously.
You know what's an awesome choice to have to make, while STILL nursing a baby behind the steering wheel of a minivan? Yellow jackets or muggy poop air. Which will be my immediate future until my husband finally returns from his apparently epic journey through Middle Earth to Mount Gas Station Bathroom? (P.S. WHAT IS HE DOING IN THERE?)
I decided to gamble with the yellow jackets. I mean, what were the odds that that same little bugger was hanging around just waiting to make my life a wailing, flailing nightmare again?
Yeah. And he brought a friend.
So, the muggy poop air cleared out a bit, but a moment later M's high-pitched Mommy Alert System was back in full force, notifying me of not one, but TWO BEES!! IN THE CAR!! Oh sweet mercy. I begged the yellow jackets with my eyes to return from whence they came, because at least if I could refrain from shrieking and jumping, then we wouldn't add a screaming baby to the mix. File that under "last thing I freaking need right now, or ever". Apparently they did fly out the window because they aren't still there, and as I again telepathically rolled up the windows (I guess? I was still nursing Oliver?), Joel finally emerged from the Gates of
Yes, twenty ounces of Sprite and some Cool Ranch Doritos TOTALLY made up for my having to battle the Death Eaters by myself (great, now I am mixing my epic movie references). At least I survived to tell about it! And to make up for my great travail, Joel volunteered for potty dumping duty (wait, did he volunteer, or did the look in my eyes leave him no choice? I'm not sure.). At the end of the day, thankfully, nobody was stung, and no accidents were had.
All in all, then, I guess I'd call it a success. Bahahaha.
An Opening Party, Guest List: You
So, I am officially an old person. Mr. UPS heaved a giant Amazon box into our front entryway, and I proceeded to open it while taking multiple photos and uttering phrases like "Oh my stars!!" No really, I used those exact words. Out loud. My kids were gracious enough not to notice. Possibly because they were able to do THIS:
What was the gift? You mean besides hours of free entertainment for my kids via packing themselves into a giant box and wearing a big blue bag around the house?
You guys.
Possibly the best house-warming gift ever. At least that I can remember, but I guess that isn't saying much since my brains leak out through my kids these days. Shout out, Aunt Patti and "hey you!" (Aunt Pam. What, you said I could call you that!)
The kids say thank-you too:
I seriously typed this to the sound of Mikayla, from inside the box, begging her brother, "Pack me up!! Pack me up now pleeeease!" But of course he was too busy bumping into things in his new blue world. Oh and don't think I didn't notice that we now have TWO boxes and one giant blue sack for packing up when we move in a few weeks. Jackpot all the way around.
And because I find the ruckus so hilarious when I tell the kids to say cheese:
What was the gift? You mean besides hours of free entertainment for my kids via packing themselves into a giant box and wearing a big blue bag around the house?
You guys.
Possibly the best house-warming gift ever. At least that I can remember, but I guess that isn't saying much since my brains leak out through my kids these days. Shout out, Aunt Patti and "hey you!" (Aunt Pam. What, you said I could call you that!)
The kids say thank-you too:
I seriously typed this to the sound of Mikayla, from inside the box, begging her brother, "Pack me up!! Pack me up now pleeeease!" But of course he was too busy bumping into things in his new blue world. Oh and don't think I didn't notice that we now have TWO boxes and one giant blue sack for packing up when we move in a few weeks. Jackpot all the way around.
And because I find the ruckus so hilarious when I tell the kids to say cheese:
So thank you to my dear Aunts, and we will think of you often when we cook, well, anything in our new home! It was all I could do not to pull every single piece out of the box to ooh and aah over it all, but I realized that I will never get it all packed back in there quite the same way it is now. But in three weeks, believe you me, that stainless steel will get some serious lovin'.
Edited to add: The reason this is such an amazing and much-needed housewarming gift is because I packed up my nine-year-old non-stick cookware and gave it to my sister-in-law, as she is moving out of the house the week before we do. (Yes, it's about to get very quiet at my in-laws' house. I imagine crickets chirping and voices echoing.) The set was about shot anyway, but Amy said it would make a great starter set for her as she gets on her feet. So, we are (were!) in need of cookware in order to eat anything other than Easy Mac and Doritos which, even though they were my favorite in college, the Mom part of me has developed something of a culinary conscience regarding powdered food. Scrambled egges? You got it. Spaghetti and meatballs? Coming right up. FROM SCRATCH. Good heavens I can't wait!
(See? Old person.)
Decorating the Library We Don't Yet Have
If you are here frequently enough to know that I have bought a banana hook and various other items for our new-but-not-yet house (including a dining room hutch, which is residing at a friend's house because as my mother in law says, you couldn't fit another toothpick into this house with our family of five, Joel's parents, Joel's sister, and Joel's sister's accumulation of furniture and things for HER upcoming move), you may not be surprised to find out that I've also undertaken a few small decorating projects. Yes, we don't live there yet, but I have things to hang on the walls. That patience thing is just not taking for some reason.
I came across a quote that I liked in the kids' new Precious Moments bedtime book (a baptism gift for Oliver, but if you think the big kids will allow it to sit unused til he's old enough, you haven't met my kids.). Searching for a way to use it in a project, I came across this idea on Pinterest (of course), which linked to an item for sale on Etsy (naturally). Ten dollars for the wrong quote is not my idea of a deal. So I took a good, hard look at the photo and engineered my own!
First, new frames for 50% and 40% off at Michael's, thanks to my mother-in-law's couponing prowess. Then, transparency sheets for the quotes themselves, free from my sister-in-law's fourth grade classroom. But what for the page of literature in the background? What book could I deface in order to make something cool for the walls of my own home library? (I can sense my husband's indignance as he reads this. Joel, I concede, it is really your home library. Online catalog, shelf markers, and all.)
This is where it comes in really handy to be married to a librarian. I asked him if Lafayette had a collection where they collect "weeded" volumes, those to be taken out of circulation. He asked what kind of book I wanted. Shooting for the moon, I requested some classic work of literature, or even a dictionary or other reference work. No math textbooks, I stipulated. He warned me that they weren't likely to have much good literature lying around in the donation pile, but he'd check. And do you know what book Joel brought home for me that very day?
The freaking Odyssey of Homer. I love that man.
So I have the sweetest pages, with numbered stanzas and everything, to mount behind my quotes. I wish I had some "in progress" photos, but the process was pretty simple: Rip out pages from the Odyssey, say a brief prayer of repentance for defacing classic literature, and then crop slightly to fit my frames the way I wanted. For the larger frame, I took two facing pages from the book, cropped, and taped them in an aesthetically-pleasing overlapping manner. Next, I played with the quotes in Microsoft Word to get them to the right size, alignment, font combinations, etc. and printed on the transparencies. I cut the transparencies to size using the glass from inside the frames as a template.
That part took some doing, because I found that the ink smudged just a little even after I let them dry awhile. I printed several times and came up with some creative ways to cut them to the right size so that the ink would remain undisturbed. Because as a mother of three children under four years old, I like to seek out extra tasks that try my patience and perfectionism.
Into the frame went the glass, transparency, book page, and backing, in that order.
But in the end, I turned out a couple of pretty cool-looking pieces for our future home library walls:
(No "before" or "in process" pictures, sorry, but imagine empty frames and an intact Odyssey, I guess?)
Also, any suggestions for a paint color that might look nice with these? We have a dark teal recliner and mostly oak-ish-looking furniture for the library. I'm just undecided what direction to go with the wall color. I want it to feel warm and sophisticated, so maybe something in the brown family? I don't know, I've never had to make these decisions since we have been renting forever.
If you enjoyed this little project, or have done something similar, leave me some love in the comments. I'm also eager for more decorating ideas I could undertake before we move. Do you have a Pinterest board I should be following?
I came across a quote that I liked in the kids' new Precious Moments bedtime book (a baptism gift for Oliver, but if you think the big kids will allow it to sit unused til he's old enough, you haven't met my kids.). Searching for a way to use it in a project, I came across this idea on Pinterest (of course), which linked to an item for sale on Etsy (naturally). Ten dollars for the wrong quote is not my idea of a deal. So I took a good, hard look at the photo and engineered my own!
First, new frames for 50% and 40% off at Michael's, thanks to my mother-in-law's couponing prowess. Then, transparency sheets for the quotes themselves, free from my sister-in-law's fourth grade classroom. But what for the page of literature in the background? What book could I deface in order to make something cool for the walls of my own home library? (I can sense my husband's indignance as he reads this. Joel, I concede, it is really your home library. Online catalog, shelf markers, and all.)
This is where it comes in really handy to be married to a librarian. I asked him if Lafayette had a collection where they collect "weeded" volumes, those to be taken out of circulation. He asked what kind of book I wanted. Shooting for the moon, I requested some classic work of literature, or even a dictionary or other reference work. No math textbooks, I stipulated. He warned me that they weren't likely to have much good literature lying around in the donation pile, but he'd check. And do you know what book Joel brought home for me that very day?
The freaking Odyssey of Homer. I love that man.
So I have the sweetest pages, with numbered stanzas and everything, to mount behind my quotes. I wish I had some "in progress" photos, but the process was pretty simple: Rip out pages from the Odyssey, say a brief prayer of repentance for defacing classic literature, and then crop slightly to fit my frames the way I wanted. For the larger frame, I took two facing pages from the book, cropped, and taped them in an aesthetically-pleasing overlapping manner. Next, I played with the quotes in Microsoft Word to get them to the right size, alignment, font combinations, etc. and printed on the transparencies. I cut the transparencies to size using the glass from inside the frames as a template.
That part took some doing, because I found that the ink smudged just a little even after I let them dry awhile. I printed several times and came up with some creative ways to cut them to the right size so that the ink would remain undisturbed. Because as a mother of three children under four years old, I like to seek out extra tasks that try my patience and perfectionism.
Into the frame went the glass, transparency, book page, and backing, in that order.
But in the end, I turned out a couple of pretty cool-looking pieces for our future home library walls:
(No "before" or "in process" pictures, sorry, but imagine empty frames and an intact Odyssey, I guess?)
Also, any suggestions for a paint color that might look nice with these? We have a dark teal recliner and mostly oak-ish-looking furniture for the library. I'm just undecided what direction to go with the wall color. I want it to feel warm and sophisticated, so maybe something in the brown family? I don't know, I've never had to make these decisions since we have been renting forever.
If you enjoyed this little project, or have done something similar, leave me some love in the comments. I'm also eager for more decorating ideas I could undertake before we move. Do you have a Pinterest board I should be following?
Coming Soon: New Digs!
Hi, me again! So as I doorknob-confessed at the end of my last blog post, we bought a house. Are buying a house. When does it officially become past-tense? Our closing date is in September. (Do you like to lift heavy things and possibly excel at visuo-spatial tasks such as Tetris? I may have a truck for you to help load in a month and a half.)
Do you have any ideas or suggestions for what I can do while staying at my in-laws' house, with fewer than 10% of my belongings, to organize and prepare for moving into our new house at the end of September? I already bought a banana hook and created wall art for the library. The banana hook is for the kitchen, not the library. That might have been unclear. The point is that I'm going stir-crazy and the anticipation is killing me and blah blah blah, it helps me feel better to do things for the house. Other than drive past it a rather creepy number of times throughout the week to monitor progress on the new septic system and, you know, just be with it. Kum ba ya.
Joel should be thankful I am not doing the same with my piano, because that is 45 minutes away. But oh how I look forward to its warmth and beauty greeting me each morning as I descend the stairs in my new home. I might hire a babysitter just to sit in my own home and play, and play, and play, and play. Or install a complicated baby gate at the top of the stairs and confine the kids upstairs with all their toys and a box of Goldfish. I'm pretty sure it would be worth it, even if I later discover my bed completely torn apart and possibly peed in.
Here is just a teensy sneak peek of the new place that isn't perfect, but is perfect for us. It is so cute. That little porch will be home to the glider bench and table that my parents gave us in their recent downsize, and I am just itching to sit out there with a cup of tea watching my first rain storm in our new house. And pull my car into that big, beautiful garage so that I can vacuum it out (maybe there is even a central vac hookup in the garage? Too much to ask?) and stay warm and dry while strapping my brood into their many and various car seats.
This post may have been a huge mistake, because I basically just shot myself in the patootie with regard to patience and contentment and the Lord's timing. Blarg. Hopefully a child will start crying somewhere and break me from this reverie. (At my house, this is neither an unreasonable request nor a long shot in any sense.)
Ok but seriously. I only have side dish and dessert recipes left to organize into my recipe binder (which I have owned for probably two years and am just now sorting out. I must be getting desperate.). After that, it's curtains for my sanity unless I come up with something more to add to my little box of "for the house" stuff. New cutting boards and a banana hook will only sustain me for so long. Ooooh I know, a trip to Lowes for paint colors! Because it makes total sense to select colors for rooms when I haven't even seen my rugs and curtains and furniture in three months. This won't be a crapshoot in the least!
As I go to select tags for this post, it doesn't really fit anywhere but I'm going to label it under "Homemaking" because what is more relevant to the category than actually having a home, right? Suffice it to say, God is so much more generous with us than we deserve. Guaranteed. In no way have I earned the right to find a beautiful home in our price range, in exactly the time frame we were hoping for, to exactly accommodate us and our belongings. It is just the balance between comfortable and modest. I love it. Eight years of marriage, six (about to be seven) places of residence, and three children testify to the Lord's continuous provision. The lines have fallen for us in pleasant places [Psalm 16:6].
Do you have any ideas or suggestions for what I can do while staying at my in-laws' house, with fewer than 10% of my belongings, to organize and prepare for moving into our new house at the end of September? I already bought a banana hook and created wall art for the library. The banana hook is for the kitchen, not the library. That might have been unclear. The point is that I'm going stir-crazy and the anticipation is killing me and blah blah blah, it helps me feel better to do things for the house. Other than drive past it a rather creepy number of times throughout the week to monitor progress on the new septic system and, you know, just be with it. Kum ba ya.
Joel should be thankful I am not doing the same with my piano, because that is 45 minutes away. But oh how I look forward to its warmth and beauty greeting me each morning as I descend the stairs in my new home. I might hire a babysitter just to sit in my own home and play, and play, and play, and play. Or install a complicated baby gate at the top of the stairs and confine the kids upstairs with all their toys and a box of Goldfish. I'm pretty sure it would be worth it, even if I later discover my bed completely torn apart and possibly peed in.
Here is just a teensy sneak peek of the new place that isn't perfect, but is perfect for us. It is so cute. That little porch will be home to the glider bench and table that my parents gave us in their recent downsize, and I am just itching to sit out there with a cup of tea watching my first rain storm in our new house. And pull my car into that big, beautiful garage so that I can vacuum it out (maybe there is even a central vac hookup in the garage? Too much to ask?) and stay warm and dry while strapping my brood into their many and various car seats.
This post may have been a huge mistake, because I basically just shot myself in the patootie with regard to patience and contentment and the Lord's timing. Blarg. Hopefully a child will start crying somewhere and break me from this reverie. (At my house, this is neither an unreasonable request nor a long shot in any sense.)
Ok but seriously. I only have side dish and dessert recipes left to organize into my recipe binder (which I have owned for probably two years and am just now sorting out. I must be getting desperate.). After that, it's curtains for my sanity unless I come up with something more to add to my little box of "for the house" stuff. New cutting boards and a banana hook will only sustain me for so long. Ooooh I know, a trip to Lowes for paint colors! Because it makes total sense to select colors for rooms when I haven't even seen my rugs and curtains and furniture in three months. This won't be a crapshoot in the least!
As I go to select tags for this post, it doesn't really fit anywhere but I'm going to label it under "Homemaking" because what is more relevant to the category than actually having a home, right? Suffice it to say, God is so much more generous with us than we deserve. Guaranteed. In no way have I earned the right to find a beautiful home in our price range, in exactly the time frame we were hoping for, to exactly accommodate us and our belongings. It is just the balance between comfortable and modest. I love it. Eight years of marriage, six (about to be seven) places of residence, and three children testify to the Lord's continuous provision. The lines have fallen for us in pleasant places [Psalm 16:6].
Oliver at Two Months
So, my babies grow fast. Oliver had his two-month check-up this morning, and Dr. Chi was thoroughly impressed at his advanced development. He weighed in at 13 lb 4 oz, which is in the 75-90th %ile range and according to Dr. Chi, the size of a four month old baby. His length was 24 1/2 inches, which remains up around the 97th %ile and comparable to a six month old baby. Growth projections remain the same as at his one-month check-up; Oliver is likely to be 6'2 and 180-200 lbs. Yup. Now accepting donations toward groceries.
Relatedly, I saw another mom at the pediatrician's office with her son, who must have been 16ish years old, six feet tall and with hairy legs. So then I stood there holding my infant son, trying to picture him and his big brother at that size and oh my heart. I just can't even. I debated asking her grocery budget but who am I to be able to handle that kind of truth this early in the morning.
Oliver is advanced in other ways, too, not just his hearty size. He sleeps an average (starting in the last week) of 9-10 hours overnight. Bedtime has been around 8pm, and he makes it to at least 5am, with his record standing at 6:30am. THAT is my boy. He's either a great sleeper, or I am (his bed is right next to mine, so surely I wouldn't snooze through him wanting to be fed?). The big turning point was when we moved him from his Rock n Play, where he slept on his back and at a slight incline, into a travel-size Pack n Play where he sleeps on his belly. That kid LOVES his new bed, and even during the day when he feels sleepy, he tends not to sleep well until we put him in there (as opposed to his swing, car seat, or even being held).
He has half-rolled over a couple of times, from his back up on to his side. Once he made it over onto his belly (that was at least a week ago now, around 7 weeks of age) but more often he makes it up to his side and hangs out there. He's able to push and hold himself up on his arms and holds his head up high as he looks around. We get numerous smiles and coos from our social little guy.
[Edit: He just rolled again, right in front of me, as soon as I turned my camera on! Sometimes the stars just align.]
I might add that all of this is tremendously encouraging because there are times when I seriously question whether Oliver will survive infancy, due to the trauma he regularly experiences at the hands of his big brother. It started early. Most notably, the other day I was making breakfast while Oliver lounged in his swing. He was just across the room, safe and sound. Or so I thought. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then my two boys wailing like someone had died. Never have I made it from kitchen to living room with such speed and agility. The swing was lying on its side, Oliver facedown on the floor screaming, and Isaac weeping dramatically - whether out of fear or pain, I'm still not sure. I felt simultaneous impulses arise in me to snatch my baby from the floor to be sure he was ok, and to snatch my older son and let him know how NOT OK this was. Oliver won the internal coin flip, and turned out to be just fine; Isaac, well, I guess time will tell whether he's learned the lesson I imprinted upon him. Firmly. I will now be watching Oliver for all of the minutes of all the days until he is old enough to learn self-defense.
And I'm sharing this with you all because I'm 99% sure that my Mother of the Year nomination has already been revoked. Something about seven episodes of Daniel Tiger back to back while I fell asleep nursing the baby. I can't help it that Netflix auto-queues one episode into the next.
There are so many moments that I would love to share with you. I mentally bookmark them all the time - oh, that was so funny! So precious! So brilliant! So mind-blowingly chaotic that nobody will believe me unless I detail it on the internets! But then all of my mental bookmarks go the way of my abdominal muscles, never to be seen again. Le sigh. Perhaps during nap time today (which just started rather smoothly, knock on wood and throw salt over your shoulder and don't jinx it by talking about it) I will wrack my brain for all of the blog-worthy things I've been forgetting over the past few months.
Mental bookmark to take a two-month photo of Oliver with The Teddy Bear and post it along with comparison photos of the big kids. Think I'll remember? (Hint: we have no such one-month photos of Oliver. Third child syndrome. Oops. Hopefully he'll understand and be grateful that I was too busy keeping him alive and out of the clutches of his older siblings and making sure everyone was fed edible things at somewhat regular times of the day.)
Also? We bought a house. I know. Would I just drop that on you all right at the end of a blog post and peace out? Yes, yes I would. BOOM. Oh and Joel and I just celebrated our eight year anniversary. No gifts, figuring that between me birthing him a son and him buying me a house all within two months of our anniversary, we were probably good to go. Although, I feel like it is probably all downhill from there in terms of future anniversary gifts.
Relatedly, I saw another mom at the pediatrician's office with her son, who must have been 16ish years old, six feet tall and with hairy legs. So then I stood there holding my infant son, trying to picture him and his big brother at that size and oh my heart. I just can't even. I debated asking her grocery budget but who am I to be able to handle that kind of truth this early in the morning.
Oliver is advanced in other ways, too, not just his hearty size. He sleeps an average (starting in the last week) of 9-10 hours overnight. Bedtime has been around 8pm, and he makes it to at least 5am, with his record standing at 6:30am. THAT is my boy. He's either a great sleeper, or I am (his bed is right next to mine, so surely I wouldn't snooze through him wanting to be fed?). The big turning point was when we moved him from his Rock n Play, where he slept on his back and at a slight incline, into a travel-size Pack n Play where he sleeps on his belly. That kid LOVES his new bed, and even during the day when he feels sleepy, he tends not to sleep well until we put him in there (as opposed to his swing, car seat, or even being held).
He has half-rolled over a couple of times, from his back up on to his side. Once he made it over onto his belly (that was at least a week ago now, around 7 weeks of age) but more often he makes it up to his side and hangs out there. He's able to push and hold himself up on his arms and holds his head up high as he looks around. We get numerous smiles and coos from our social little guy.
[Edit: He just rolled again, right in front of me, as soon as I turned my camera on! Sometimes the stars just align.]
I might add that all of this is tremendously encouraging because there are times when I seriously question whether Oliver will survive infancy, due to the trauma he regularly experiences at the hands of his big brother. It started early. Most notably, the other day I was making breakfast while Oliver lounged in his swing. He was just across the room, safe and sound. Or so I thought. Suddenly I heard a crash, and then my two boys wailing like someone had died. Never have I made it from kitchen to living room with such speed and agility. The swing was lying on its side, Oliver facedown on the floor screaming, and Isaac weeping dramatically - whether out of fear or pain, I'm still not sure. I felt simultaneous impulses arise in me to snatch my baby from the floor to be sure he was ok, and to snatch my older son and let him know how NOT OK this was. Oliver won the internal coin flip, and turned out to be just fine; Isaac, well, I guess time will tell whether he's learned the lesson I imprinted upon him. Firmly. I will now be watching Oliver for all of the minutes of all the days until he is old enough to learn self-defense.
And I'm sharing this with you all because I'm 99% sure that my Mother of the Year nomination has already been revoked. Something about seven episodes of Daniel Tiger back to back while I fell asleep nursing the baby. I can't help it that Netflix auto-queues one episode into the next.
There are so many moments that I would love to share with you. I mentally bookmark them all the time - oh, that was so funny! So precious! So brilliant! So mind-blowingly chaotic that nobody will believe me unless I detail it on the internets! But then all of my mental bookmarks go the way of my abdominal muscles, never to be seen again. Le sigh. Perhaps during nap time today (which just started rather smoothly, knock on wood and throw salt over your shoulder and don't jinx it by talking about it) I will wrack my brain for all of the blog-worthy things I've been forgetting over the past few months.
Mental bookmark to take a two-month photo of Oliver with The Teddy Bear and post it along with comparison photos of the big kids. Think I'll remember? (Hint: we have no such one-month photos of Oliver. Third child syndrome. Oops. Hopefully he'll understand and be grateful that I was too busy keeping him alive and out of the clutches of his older siblings and making sure everyone was fed edible things at somewhat regular times of the day.)
Also? We bought a house. I know. Would I just drop that on you all right at the end of a blog post and peace out? Yes, yes I would. BOOM. Oh and Joel and I just celebrated our eight year anniversary. No gifts, figuring that between me birthing him a son and him buying me a house all within two months of our anniversary, we were probably good to go. Although, I feel like it is probably all downhill from there in terms of future anniversary gifts.
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