Christmas Card 2015

 

Merry Christmas, everyone!  This year has been jam-packed with change for the Edwards family.  Here’s a quick update—Home alone style.

Kevin McCallister: This is it.  Don’t get scared now.

In January we began making preparations to sell our house in Temple.  We worked with a realtor who made very minimal suggestions on improving the house prior to putting it on the market.  Except for that suggestion that we keep all of the kids’ toys picked up at all times.  That was not a minimal suggestion.  I basically became a Houdini, ‘disappearing’ toys into every laundry basket, crevice in a closet, or hole in the wall every day before leaving for work in case we had a last minute showing.  All this preparation made it even more real that we were really leaving Temple and moving to Abilene. 

Kevin McCallister: No offense, aren't you too old to be afraid?
Marley: You can be too old for a lot of things, but you're never too old to be afraid.

In February Harrison gave us quite a scare.  One day I noticed that the soft spot on his head was swollen out instead of sunken in like it’s supposed to be.  An ER visit, MRI, CT scan, lumbar puncture, and several doctor’s visits later, we found out that he was completely fine.  Harrison handled it all like a champ.  His mommy and daddy, not so much.  (To be fair, Harrison got doped up every time he had a test run, the parents got nothing.)  We’re happy to report that this was only a minor bump in the road, and he’s now a completely happy, walking, babbling, mischievous 1 year old.

Kevin McCallister: [to Santa's helper] This is extremely important. Will you please tell Santa that instead of presents this year, I just want my family back. No toys. Nothing but Peter, Kate, Buzz, Megan, Linnie, and Jeff. And my aunt and my cousins. And if he has time, my Uncle Frank. Okay?

All we wanted for Christmas (in March) was an offer on our house.  It was on the market about 5 weeks when we got a call from our realtor one morning while we were eating breakfast with Grampy and Cindy on the farm.  He said, “We got an offer, and it’s asking price.”  I asked him why he sounded disappointed and he said, “Because you have to be out in 30 days.”  Our realtor knew that Jeffrey had to keep working until June 30, so he was afraid we’d say no to that offer.  I went back into the kitchen to discuss it with Jeffrey and talk about whether we could afford to live in a hotel for a while, but as soon as I said that we had a full priced offer and had to get out early, Grampy cut in and said, “Well, why don’t you live here?”  Right there around the breakfast table the plans were made.  We accepted the offer and planned to move to Grampy’s house the following month.

Linnie McCallister: Listen, Kevin, what are you so worried about? You know Mom's gonna pack your stuff anyway. You're what the French call "les incompetents".

So we started packing in three piles: stuff to go into storage, stuff to Grampy’s, and (because we like to be complicated) stuff to go to Minnesota.  Jeffrey was honored to compete in a national case competition called Clarion following their regional win in Lubbock.  The national meeting was in Minneapolis, so we shuffled the kids off on their grandparents and took a long weekend by ourselves.  The Minnesota trip could not have come at a more inconvenient time (just a week after closing on the house and moving to Grampy’s) but it was so worth it.  We came home refreshed and sporting a second place medal.

Kevin McCallister:  This house is so full of people it makes me sick.  When I grow up and get married, I’m living alone.  I’m living alone!

So there we were, my grandfather, my aunt, my family of four, and our dog, all living under one roof in Rogers, Texas.  And then it started to rain.  And it rained and it rained for almost all of May.  We spent a lot of time under that roof together, the six of us, and we might have gotten on each other’s nerves if we didn’t love each other so much.  But somehow between walks among the giant oak and pecan trees, tractor rides with little boys, and cooking meals together (because there are no fast food restaurants in Rogers!) four generations coexisted and thrived. 

Kevin: This is my house.  I have to protect it.

The little boys and I left Grampy’s in early June to head to Abilene.  I had long before given my notice at work and while we were having a blast on the farm, I felt there were projects waiting for me, namely a house that my parents had purchased intending to rent to college students.  The house was built in 1956 near ACU, and the minute Jeffrey and I saw the pink and black tiled bathroom, we knew we had to live there.  (That decision may have also been influenced by our financial state.)  The house has since gotten new flooring, crown molding, and many other updates, all courtesy of its DIY-crazy renters.  Jeffrey said his final goodbyes to Temple after graduation at the end of June and brought the last car load of stuff to Abilene to join us.   

Kevin: [after patting a healthy amount of aftershave on his freshly-shaven face] AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

Once we all got to Abilene, life really seemed to speed up.  Jeffrey spent the first few months of his time in his new hometown studying feverishly for his board exam, taking his board exam, and then worrying about whether or not he passed the board exam.  (Spoiler alert: he did.)  Carter watched fireworks for the first time and went to his first candlelight devotional at ACU.  We went on family vacations to Ruidoso and Fort Worth.  Harrison learned to walk and turned one at the end of August.  We hired a full time babysitter for the kids who has become an indispensable part of our family.  I started working for my Uncle Gary at his dental office and Jeffrey started his medical practice with Hendrick Hospital.  Carter turned three in September and decided that he and Harrison would be lions for Halloween.  We tried (unsuccessfully) to convince Carter that the people who came over on the Mayflower were pilgrims, not pirates.  We tried (unsuccessfully) to convince Harrison that Christmas ornaments are to be looked at, not thrown across the room like basketballs.  We tried (unsuccessfully) to install our 9 foot tall artificial Christmas tree below the 8 foot ceilings of our living room.  And yet among all this chaos and change and pastel bathroom tile, we feel supremely blessed have had a home at all times, friends in every city where we’ve lived, and that to date, we have never left either of our children home alone for any significant amount of time.

Merry Christmas to you all, and keep the change, ya filthy animals.

'Barrages' and Bible Verses

A few mornings ago I was sitting in the living room with Carter while Harrison took a little cat nap.  Carter had asked me to help him build yet another 'barrage' (that's 'garage' in three year old language).  This is the only type of structure he ever wants to build.  No houses, no towers, no restaurants, only garages.  If he becomes and engineer we better hope that the automobile industry stays robust. 

Anyway, I told him that I wasn't going to help him right now, but that I would love for him to build a big garage all by himself and then show me.  (We're working on independence.)  He ended up building a great garage completely on his own, and suddenly I had a lightbulb moment:  I could teach him a bible verse about this!

I praised his garage and said, "I'm so proud that you built that all by yourself, and I love that you worked so hard.  Did you know that God likes you to work hard?  He says that no matter what you're doing, you should work very, very hard, like you're working for God (Colossians 3:23, Mommy Paraphrase Version)."  Carter nodded receptively and I gave myself a big, fat pat on the back for being such a purposeful parent. 

He continued to build, putting up a two tall pieces with a sharp cornered triangle on top.  Excited to continue our bonding moment, I asked him what that part was for.

"It's for hitting people." he said matter-of-factly.

Aaaand....here's a verse for mommy:  Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.  (Proverbs 16:18, KJV)

The Fair and Losing Nemo

I've loved going to the West Texas Fair and Rodeo for as long as I can remember. I love the rides, the games that cost a fortune, the rodeo, and (of course) the food. I got extra excited this year because I realized that the kids would love going this year PLUS I'm guaranteed to 'need' to go for at least the next 8 years, you know, for the kids. 

Off we went with Carter and Harrison in tow. Mom and Dad met us there, plus Leslie and Jordan. We gorged on food (first things first) then headed over to let Carter ride some rides. I was doubtful that he would get on any of those rides for several reasons: 1) he generally takes about 30 minutes to warm up to a new place 2) he would have to talk to the 'carnies' (carnival workers) and he hates talking to strangers 3) he would have to ride by himself because the rest of us were either too tall or too small to ride the poorly constructed kiddie rides. 

I could not have been more wrong. 

My oldest child, the one who refuses to wave hello to sweet little old ladies at church and who is too fearful to get a stamp on his hand from a librarian at reading time marched right up to every toothless, grimacing, heavily tattooed carnie and bravely asked for a ride and also a high five. Who is his child?!?  I'm officially concerned that he may grow up and join the circus. 

In my state of shock after the rides, I somehow managed to win 2 live goldfish to take home. Oops. As we left the fair grounds, I asked Carter what he wanted to name the fish. Not surprisingly, he responded, "Nemo." 

"But what do you want to name the other one?" I asked. 

"Nemo's dad."

"Marlin?"

"No. Nemo's Dad."

Great choice, buddy. 

Jeffrey's first question when I got home was what I was going to tell Carter if they died. I thought for a moment and decided that we would just pretend we lost them. Not ready for death conversations yet. 

And die, they did. Nemo went first, and then (much like the movie) Nemo's Dad went after him. Carter only asked once where he fish went. I pleaded ignorance ('I'm not sure, buddy, maybe they swam off somewhere...can't find 'em."). It worked. All's well that ends well. 

See you next year, Fair and Rodeo. 

A Letter to the Church, on my leaving

How I wish I had the words that those men of faith in the New Testament! Unfortunately I do not but nevertheless I was asked by our former preacher to write a letter to the church before we moved from Temple to Abilene, I did it.

Dear Western Hills, I remember one night at a middle school youth group meeting when the question that was posed by the teacher (who may have actually been our own Scott Meyer, coincidentally) was this: If your house were on fire and you only had time to grab three items, what would you take? Many of us said that we would grab our Bibles. Lots of us said we would grab a family photo album. (Of course nowadays no one would grab these items, but instead reinstall their Bible app and recover their photos from The Cloud. (I'm old, I know) Some asked if people counted as "items" because they wanted to make sure their family stayed intact. The practical ones chose a sturdy pair of jeans and sensible tennis shoes. The sentimental ones picked heirloom jewelry. Perhaps it was a morbid lesson for a middle school audience, but of course the purpose of the exercise wasn't meant to focus on the tragedy but rather to elucidate the things in our young lives that meant the most to us.  Barring a disaster like the one in our scenario, the closest each of us may come to facing a choice like the one above is when we move, as my family is preparing to do. As soon as our family found out that our careers would take us to a new city, we began to ask ourselves the important questions involved with such a task. What will we carry with us? What will we store away? What will we leave behind? As the physical packing commenced, we simultaneously started the process of packing up emotionally, too, by planning dates for farewell parties, last dinners with friends, and taking one long look at the time we've  spent here in Temple and at Western Hills.   Out of the time spent looking back, this letter was born. Church, if you'll permit me a few moments of nostalgia, I'd like to leave you with this letter. The things you take with you I will carry with me so many precious friendships because you welcomed me with open arms when we arrived in your pews three years ago. With a husband who was often working long hours at the hospital and me being pregnant for nigh unto half of my time at Western Hills, you carried me through some of the longest days, weeks, and years I have been challenged with in my life. You carried me physically,with meals brought over after the birth of my sons and outstanding nursery and children's ministry volunteers who lovingly cared for our boys so that I could listen to a sermon and be spiritually refreshed. You carried me to the Lord in prayer when I brought requests for myself or for others. You carried me through my first months and years of being a mother, with gentle advice and hugs and assurance that  his sprinting to the front of the auditorium during the sermon is probably just a phase. You have carried me, and now I will carry you. I will carry on the tradition of showering brides and mothers with gifts to prepare for joy to come. I will carry your hurts and prayer requests to the Lord whenever I think of you. I hope to carry away all the good and selfless and honest and kind lessons you taught me to my new church and to my new home.  The things you store away Just as I lovingly packed up what seemed like four billion cardboard boxes of knick-knacks and clothes and children's toys, I also prepared great memories for long term storage. Oh, the memories we all share! Do you remember how sweet our WHY students looked all dressed up for the Sweetheart Banquet?  The way the boys held out their elbows to escort the lovely ladies of the church to their seats. Do you remember how our preacher stood in front of the congregation only days after his mother passed away and preached a sermon full of hope and joy? "She will rest and she will rise," he said, with conviction that only comes from a faith that has been tested and found true. Do you remember the Trunk or Treat party at the Liles' farm last year? It was about four thousand degrees Fahrenheit on that October day in Texas, and yet we had kids and adults of all ages smiling and sweating for the sake of the young ones. Do you remember the arcade games made out of cardboard by the 56 students? The freshly baked bread loaves made each week for visitors? The Christmas parties? The home groups? The Spring tea party? The baptisms? All these memories, and so many more, I store away in my heart. The things you leave behind As we make our exit, I feel an emptiness inside at the thought of not seeing each of you regularly, however, it also occurs to me that we leave behind an emptiness for you, as well. The church will need a new soprano in the Praise Team rotation (and they've been begging for another tenor or two, as well), so if singing is your gift, consider this letter your call to action. In February of 2016, the Sweetheart Banquet will need someone, or perhaps a few folks, to spearhead the planning of this event. If you volunteer for this position, you won't regret it. You'll be so impressed by the way our Western Hills Youth work and conduct themselves, you'll want to do it year after year. The children's ministry will need a new worker to cover the months in which there is a 5th Sunday, although technically I forgot almost every 5th Sunday, so perhaps they've needed another volunteer in my place all along. Last but not least, friends, please remember that we're all moving. Much like our silly middle school game suggested, this earthly home is destined to perish and we will all need to choose what to carry with us, what to store away, and what to leave behind. So I say this: Continue to carry each other, store away all the love and sweet memories you can muster, and leave behind a legacy.  Thanks for the memories, Western Hills. We're going to miss you.

Splish, Splash! Birthday Bash!

There is nothing my Harrison likes better than water.  Almost since the moment he was born, he's been happiest when he's splashing around in it, so it was only natural that we would have a splish, splash, birthday bash for him when he turned one.  *Not to mention* it's been at least 100 degrees every day for a month, so that played a small part in the decision, too.

We blew up beach balls and inflatable pools until we were dizzy, created a 'lagoon' out of a tarp and pool noodles, and set up every hose and sprinkler we could find to ensure that our baby had all the water he could want.  There was a bubble machine and watermelon slices and balloons and streamers.  No party is complete without a cake, so we had three or four (there was some mix up at the store, so we ended up with some extra cakes--what a shame). 

Many of our friends and family were present to celebrate H.E. turning one.  They brought him all kinds of presents (that Carter promptly stole) and lavished him with all the attention he could possibly desire.  It was a really fun day filled with all the things H loves, and we all really loved seeing his joy.  Cheers, buddy.  This was only the first of many. 

12 Months

Happy birthday, H.E.!

Today our littlest boy turns 1 year old (although technically not until 10:18 tonight, but I guess we'll let him eat some cake before then). 

It has been a tumultuous year, filled with many changes and lots of transitions.  I mean, we've moved twice since the boy was born!  But through it all, our H-man has stayed true-to-form.

From almost the very beginning, he's been a "full-figured" baby who loves to eat.  One year later?  Not a bit of that has changed.  He still charges into each meal like it might possibly be his last.  He's eats almost everything and especially loves green beans.  You can tell when he really likes a food because he makes this funny vibrato-type sound in his throat that we affectionately call "the raptor noise."  Just the sweet way he figured out how to thank me for cooking, I guess.

He's a quick crawler but still a little tentative about standing on his own or walking without a toy or mommy's hands supporting him.  I have no doubt that he will be walking soon.

Harrison is saying a few words now, lots and lots of 'dada' but also a little bit of 'duck' and 'uh-oh' thrown around now.  I'm looking forward to him having a few more words and a few less screams because screams still seem to be his favorite form of communication. 

His bright blue eyes remain blue as the sky.  His white-blond hair is thickening but showing no signs of getting darker.  His hair hasn't shown any of the curliness that Carter's had, but it does seem to have a mind of its own--there's no telling which direction it will be facing when he wakes up each morning.  Most often there's a tuft sticking straight up in the air, arrogantly defying the laws of physics. 

Harrison, I can't believe it's been a year.  You're a good boy for putting up with all the uncertainty and change during your first year of life.  I just know you're going to do great things.  I can't wait to watch, and cheer you on the whole way.  Happy 27th, Buddy.  I love you.

Eleven Months

Happy 11 months, H-man!

This month the boy FINALLY got a tooth.  His dentist/mommy was starting to wonder if he even had any teeth in his head, but finally one poked through.  There might be another one by now, but he really really really doesn't like for me to look or feel for them, so we'll just lump that in with the other great mysteries of life.

H.E. is motoring around like crazy now, and pulling up on any chair, step ladder, or couch that he can reach.  He's gotten so fast that sometimes I lose him inside the house!  On those occasions, I usually find him in the bathroom, trying to crawl into the bathtub, his absolute favorite place on earth.  With his birthday coming up in only one month, I'm trying to figure out if I should go with a typical theme party or just invite his friends to join him for a bath!  He'd probably like a bath party best...

This month Carter and Harrison have really enjoyed playing together, following each other around, and giggling at night instead of going to sleep.  We have them sleeping in the same room now, which means there's a little less sleeping and a little more silliness, but we figure it's all worth it to encourage those brothers to become best friends, too. 

I still love to snuggle that boy, and he still loves his mommy and daddy, but he's getting bigger and bigger and looking more like an almost-one-year-old every day.  I know our days of holding him all the time and treating him like our baby are numbered.  Even so, it is well.  Our H.E. is becoming a handsome, independent, headstrong, lovable, energetic little boy and it is so much fun to watch.

Happy 27th, sweetness.  We love you to pieces.

10 Months

My sweet H.E. learned to crawl this month!  Just a couple of weeks ago he took off and he can't stop.  Now he's already trying to pull up on the coffee table and walk and go to college by himself and all kinds of other things that I'm not ready for.  Poor mommy.

I'm really very excited that he's able to get around a little bit by himself because that boy is as heavy as he looks.  It's no surprise that beneath those sweet, chunky cheeks there lies a big eater!  Harrison is eating like a big boy--he's graduated to mostly table food and can out eat his brother and me most of the time.  I don't know how he does it.  The kid still has no teeth in his mouth but manages to gum down chicken nuggets like a champ.  Where there's a will, there's a way, I guess.

Little buddy is getting smarter every day and learning new tricks and bad habits from big bro.  Sign of things to come, right?  He's a precious little man and even though he's getting bigger he still likes to snuggle his mommy.  I hope that I get to keep squishing and squeezing that boy for a long time, but I sense that my days of him sitting with me are over now that he knows how to move it, move it.

Happy 27th, H.  I love you, baby.

Couldn't help it...had to include this picture.  When my boy smiles, he does it all the way!

Don't beat yourself up

Carter (and probably every other 2 year old in the world) loves to monkey around in my car, scampering to the back seat or front seat instead of getting into his car seat so I can buckle him in. It's a mildly annoying habit in the best of circumstances, but on a day when it's pouring down rain on me and I've already been soaked on the other side of the car while putting Harrison in, it's exceedingly frustrating.

To combat this little behavior, I did a bit of mommy magic and started letting Carter crawl in on Harrison's side of the car, then asking him if he could 'beat me' to the other side of the car. That way, while I buckled little brother in, Carter would rush to his seat, and then I would run around to the other side of the car and pretend to be dismayed when I realized he had beaten me into his chair. 'I beat you!' he giggles, every time.

Pretty smart parenting, right? Well, don't give me the Mom of the Year award just yet.

Imagine my horror when today, at the library, Carter told several people, "When I get in the car, Mommy will beat me!"

OMG. Just sitting at he now waiting on the call from CPS.

9 Months

The months are flying by now--it's time to celebrate another 27th.  Harrison is still working on crawling, although he's decided he might try the bear crawl instead of this silly hands-and-knees version that the other kids his age are doing.  Either way, I say, as long as that boy can start to get around on his own because he is getting HEAVY for this mama to hold all the time!  And let me assure you, he does prefer to be held all day long.  I call him my Velcro baby because he is stuck on me.  (And I pretend that I'm annoyed by it, but deep down I think it's so sweet.)

While he likes for me to hold him all the time, he still manages to be somewhat of a party animal.  Harrison is always happiest around lots of people and lots of action.  A nice relaxing day at home bores him, but take him out to the mall or a party or a ball game and he'll be so busy people watching that he forgets to eat!

Speaking of food--he's pretty much moved on to table food and we have yet to find a food he doesn't like.  Still no teeth in that sweet little mouth, but he isn't ashamed and lets those gums show in full when he gives me the good smile.  Boy, that smile lights up my days.

H-man, you're my favorite little.  Love you, kiss you, squeeze you.  Happy 27th, bud.

8 Months Old

Another 27th has come, which means that my tiny boy has inched one more month closer to a year old.  This time he's 8 months old and so much has changed.

He's gradually starting to work off those thigh rolls as he starts to try crawling (but don't worry, he's still as "plush" as ever).  He hasn't quite figured out how to truly be mobile, but he certainly gets around, usually by rolling multiple times to cover some ground. 

H-man is still very expressive with his facial features, but he's getting more vocal now, too.  He says "Dada" all day long.  Each time he says it Carter tells him, "Stop saying Dada, say Carter!"  Personally, I'm repeating the word "Mama" like a parrot to try and claim my name as his second official word. 

It's been fun to see him start to play with toys.  So far his favorites are the ever-popular ring stacker toy and a little toy train that moves and plays music.  Just like big brother, he loves music.  He would play patty cake all day, too, if mommy's arms didn't get tired. 

He's a good, good boy and I just can't believe he's so big.  Happy 27th, H.  Love you to pieces.

Lucky Number 7

Happy 7 months, Harrison!

Unfortunately, this 27th falls on a week when our entire family is fighting off an upper respiratory virus that just won't go away.  I really thought this might be the month in which an 'outtake' picture might have to suffice as THE picture, but in the eleventh hour Daddy and Carter managed to eek out this smile between coughs and sneezes. 

I love this picture because this is the face I see multiple times per day, every single day.  H-man loves to chew on that lower lip, and sometimes he just can't let it go, even for a big smile.  Of course, 'chew' might be an overstatement--this boy still just has a mouth full of gums.

He's eating lots of baby food and has declared a pretty strong distaste for rice cereal, but any other puree is fair game.  As he's gotten more steady with his sitting up, he's gotten more and more interested in the many toys his brother leaves around the house.  What happens if you put him in a jump up?  Well, he'll bounce and bounce until he just can't bounce anymore.  (Yet even with all that exercise, those rolls on his thighs just aren't going anywhere!)

Thanks for showing us a smile, buddy; we know you weren't feeling good, but this picture sure makes me feel better. 

"Half"-y Birthday

Today, Harrison Jeffrey is six months old.  We simply cannot believe we've gotten to squish this chubby bunny for half a year already.  As evidenced by his picture, he's grown in height and weight but also in physical ability.  This time I was able to leave him sitting up for his photo shoot, with strategically placed pillows in case that big ol' head knocked him over.

Day by day, he's outgrowing the colicky temperament that plagued us for so many of the early months, and guess what?  Underneath all that colic is a sweet boy who loves to smile, gets mesmerized by watching his hands work, and has a deep belly laugh that makes everybody chuckle. 

As he starts to develop more fine motor coordination, we see how focused and driven he is.  He has a very specific 'deep concentration' expression--lips pursed, eyes sharp, quick breaths--as he works to do whatever task he's decided on.  If he is successful, he completes the task with gusto--toy jammed promptly into mouth, or whatever.  If he is unsuccessful on first attempt, he usually throws a 5 second tantrum before trying again.  Oh, the fun we're going to have when his older brother invariably gets between Harrison and his goal, right?

We love this boy.  Can't get enough of him.  Still want to eat those cheeks for dessert every time I see him. 

Happy 27th, H-man.

A series of unfortunate events

I feel very lucky to work at an office where my hours and my work weeks are short, allowing me lots of time to spend with my kids. Currently on Mondays and Wednesdays I don't start working until 11 am, which means that I get two workdays per week to give the boys baths in the morning, get them fed, and get them dressed--all at a leisurely pace. We get to play a little and usually they are great mornings.

Usually.

Every once in a while, instead of a nice leisurely morning of playing and putting lotion on freshly-bathed kids, the wheels come off and chaos rules in our household. One such morning happened last Wednesday.

We had been having a great morning so far, just playing a little and talking some. Harrison took and good morning nap which allowed me to get dressed for work at a relaxed pace.

Right as I was preparing the necessary bottles for Harrison for the day, I heard him wake from his nap in my bedroom. He started to cry but I was almost finished so I quickly put the last bottle together and then went in to get the baby.

By the time I got into the room, the crying had reached a fever pitch. The sight that greeted me on the other side of the door was like a mommy nightmare--unbeknownst to me, Carter had gone in before me to 'help' calm Harrison in my absence. My sweet big boy was trying a trick he had seen mommy and daddy use to quiet baby Harrison--giving him some dark colored medicine from a dropper bottle. In his clumsy two-year-old hands, however, the medicine dropper became a weapon, essentially subjecting Harrison to a very traumatic intubation. (I exaggerate, but seriously, he had jabbed that dropper waaaay to the back of the throat and Harrison was not happy about it.)

Once Harrison had been rescued, I looked around and noticed that not only was my 5 month old's face covered in the inky black colored Colic Calm medicine, but so were three large areas of my carpet. My formerly white carpet. My carpet that I'm trying to sell (along with the house) in just a few weeks. Oh my. Clean up on aisle three!!

Got the carpet treated as best I could and then went into the living room to nurse Harrison. As soon as I sat down, Carter told me that he needed to use the potty. He's gone by himself before without incident, so when he told me he wanted to go 'by myselfs' I didn't argue. I was busy anyway, right? I could hear his progress from the living room: walking to the bathroom...going in the potty...pause for wiping...flush...pause...pause...flush...pause...pause...too much pause...followed by several more flushes. I put Harrison down and rushed in just as the water in the toilet bowl reached the level of the lid. It turns out that it only takes 1/2 roll of wadded toilet paper to clog our toilet. Who knew?

Flood averted, I returned to the living room with just enough time to finish nursing and get to work. I put on a video to distract Carter and fed H-man. Right on schedule, he finished eating and I moved him to my shoulder for a burp before I out him in the car seat and he erupted like a volcano. He spit up what seemed like a pint of milk. The little burp rag I had on didn't stand a chance. In the end I had to change my shirt, my pants, and the baby.

Somehow, someway, we still got to daycare and work on time. By the time it was all said and done, I was laughing at all the misfortune of our morning. It was high-pitched, crazy lady laughter, but, hey, laughing is better than crying, right?

As they say, the struggle is real. Ha.

5 Months

I don't know how it happened, but somehow our not-so-little baby boy turned 5 months old today. Just to give you a little insight into a mom's brain, this is what I thought today when I realized it was Harrison's five month 'birthday':

Wow, five months! That's close to half a year. At half a year he'll have teeth and could even be crawling. Then I'll need to plan his one year birthday. After they turn one it flies right by and then they're two! And at two they're basically self sufficient and won't need me any more. Then they'll start school, then they'll turn eighteen, then they'll drive away and leave me for college OMG!!!!!

When I returned to sanity, I remembered how much I've enjoyed this little guy over the last month. He's rolling over, talking all the time (loudly), watching his big brother like a hawk in such a way that I know he would 'monkey-see, monkey-do' if he could, and giggling heartily when someone squeezes those ever-loving mcnuggets that he calls thighs. Speaking of thighs, these days he's filling them out with occasional snacks of bananas and sweet potatoes, but NOT rice cereal. He HATES rice cereal. Even if you mix it with bananas. Picky little goober.

Oh, Harrison, you keep us on a roller coaster. When you're happy you light up the room, and when you're upset I think the neighbors can hear your ear splitting screams. But you know what? I like roller coasters. I'll even ride them with you when you get bigger.

H-man, you are one squishy dude. Those cheeks are just as delicious to nibble on as they were when you were born.

I just love you, baby. Hope you have a happy 27th.

Kids Say...

Carter is a little over two years old now, which means he's at the prime age for those 'kids say the darnedest things' moments. Examples given:

Jeffrey, playing with Carter's brio train set: Uh oh, did your trains have a wreck?
Carter: Yep, they had a rectangle.

Driving in the car on the way home from daycare: Mommy, I'm handsome. And a jellyfish looks like an umbrella!

Me, eating Chick fil a with him: Carter, you ate all of your nuggets? Would you like some more?
Carter: No, mommy, I'm full of nuggets.

At the store when we dropped something, with a voice full of drama and feigned anger: Oh my gummit! (This is a hybrid between my go-to phrase of 'oh my gosh' and Jeffrey's 'dadgummit')

He's cracking me up. Love that boy.