This has been a busy busy weekend for me session wise, I got to kick off the whirlwind by meeting Sara and her parents yesterday morning at Northwest Park. Normally two year olds freak when they see the monster camera and will do just about anything to pretend I’m not there.
Sara was like an old pro though, and we had so much fun together. Thanks for letting me hang out with you for a couple hours!
Than a baby fresh from the bath in feetie pajamas? I say no.
Reason 7,496 why I adore the fall and the cooler weather it brings:
I’ll admit it. There was a time when L.A. was a little baby (okay- and maybe even last week) when we’d be out and about and some little child was throwing an awful fit where for a second the judgmental thought crossed my mind “my child will never be like that“. Funny thing about that is that you really don’t know what your child will really be like, and I’m eating my words (or thoughts in this case).
L.A. has suddenly taken to temper tantrums – I’m talking arching back, screaming, red face, the works – in response to not getting his way. I mean things like not being able to hold the knife when I’m cutting his food, or not being allowed to stand up in the tub. Things that are clearly a safety concern.
In addition, dinner time has become a source of stress – for both of us. Tonight he refused to feed himself and clamped his mouth shut like I was trying to feed him squid when I attempted to help. As a source of distraction, I gave him a spoon to play with while I shoveled food into his mouth. That lasted all of two bites before he decided it would be fun to drop the spoon onto the floor – over, and over, and over again. Normally I would have just left it there, but the only way he’d open his mouth to eat was if I gave him the spoon back.
He was giving me a look, he clearly knows what he’s doing, and this certainly isn’t a behavior I want to encourage. Not to mention the level of annoyance that spoon brings as it clanks to the floor for the 746th time of the night.
So, my moms out there who have been there, done that – how do I handle this? Obviously I want to be sure that he’s getting the proper nutrition at meal times, but I’m not up for a fight every night after we’ve both had long days. Suggestions? Sympathy? Advice? I’ll take any of the three.
Well, I’m home (thank goodness). I can’t say how happy I am to be back with my guys. Imagine my surprise when C calls me on my trip though to say that L.A. fell at daycare and has a pretty big bruise on his face. Eh, how bad can it be, right?
I’ll admit, it’s a little worse than I thought it would be, and it doesn’t really look as bad in this picture as it does in real life.
C said to me “you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen the other guy”. Yeah, the other guy was a toy telephone. Way to go, son!
Years ago I used to love to travel for work. The more often, the better. There were so many interesting to places to visit. Now that I’m married and we have L.A., I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it. If I could stomp my feet and whine about it, I would.
I might have a solution though. Do you think anyone would catch on if I just packed L.A. and his sweet face up into my suitcase?
Notice his “flight school” outfit. I thought maybe that would win us bonus points?
I’m going to miss my boys. I love you both more than you’ll ever know!
Awhile back I was introduced to the concept of Bento Lunchboxes by another mom on the wonderful women’s forum I belong to. I wasn’t quite sure how one could manage to come up with ideas for lunches to fill all those neat little compartments until someone posted the Lunchnugget’s blog.
This woman is incredible. I have a secret internet crush on her ability to come up with these amazing lunches for her son day after day. L.A. is a long way from needing a lunch like this, yet I still stalk her blog daily. Out of curiosity I googled “Bento Box” and you should see the amount of sites dedicated to this thing.
If I thought he’d buy into it, I’d totally order a few of these to hone my skills on C’s lunch. Alas, I think he’d think I was crazy. After taking a look at these, do you think there’s any way you could do this? I love the concept, but honestly don’t think I could ever get it together enough to be a Bento Queen.
One day far too soon when you aren’t so little anymore, I’ll be tucking you into bed and after you’ve pleaded for just one more story, you’ll look up at me with those big hazel eyes that I’m such a sucker for and say “Mommy, tell me about when I was a baby”… and I will.
I’ll snuggle down next to you and kiss you on your forehead and tell you how when you were a baby you were so sweet, that you had an infectious silly laugh, a favorite little puppy that you slept with, and chubby baby thighs that everyone loved. I’ll tell you about your sweaty little feet that you can thank your father for, and your mile long lashes that you got from him too. I’ll tell you how much you loved books, and children, and animals…all animals, but especially dogs. Maybe you’ll be a veterinarian.
I’ll tell you about how you squealed in delight when your Daddy walked in and how you’d flap your little arms like a baby bird trying to take flight. About how angry you’d get when you didn’t get your way, and that you made sure everyone knew you were angry – a quality that I think you’ve inherited from me. I’ll tell you how you loved your bath more than any baby I’ve ever known, and hated to get out at the end.
I’ll tell you how every night after your bath I’d comb your crazy hair down in an attempt to tame it only to have you wake up looking so goofy with it all over the place again. As you start to get sleepy, I’ll kiss you on your forehead again and tell you how so many nights I would sit with you in the squeaky rocking chair in your room with your head on my shoulder knowing full well that you don’t need to be rocked to sleep, but not wanting to let the moment go. How in those last few minutes before I laid you down I would close my eyes and just breathe in the memory, sometimes letting my heart swell until my eyes got teary realizing that one day all too soon, you wouldn’t be so little anymore.
My son, you were an amazing baby, and my first baby. You were more than I ever could have dreamed, and I love you.
Goodnight.
Another sweet newborn! This is seriously doing nothing good for my baby fever. Little Jack is just three weeks old and has clearly stolen his parent’s hearts. He’s also a part of our Baby Steps program, so you’ll get to watch him grow throughout the year with me! Here’s a sneak peek of his first session.
