Friday brain dump

There are so many silly things swirling around in my head right now, that none of them combined make for a worthy blog post. But if I BULLET point them, then of course they are worthy!

• Nick slept much better last night. (Oh joy, she's starting this post with ANOTHER lament about her child's sleep habits!) But for real...he was beginning to make me go crazy. Last night still wasn't as good as he had been sleeping in the past, but it was better. I fed him almost double the amount of dinner he usually eats, put him to bed slightly later, and slathered his gums in baby orajel. Which Todd thinks is a stimulant, but I think it's just an excuse to shut up your baby with something sickeningly over sweet and cherry flavored.

• Despite Nick sleeping much better, Whinnie slept much worse. Because I'm psychotic, I have it in my head that Nick can hear us shut our bedroom door at night. I swear he can...every night, the minute it shuts, he wakes up crying. Like "why are you shutting me out of your lives?!" So last night I told Todd to leave it open. Thinking it wouldn't be an issue, because even if Whinnie got up in the night and went to sleep in the office, it wouldn't be a problem. WRONG. She took a giant crap right in the doorway of our bedroom. And then I'm pretty sure (and I left this part off facebook, because it's disgusting) she played in it. Yuh...you read that right. There were poo pieces scattered around and a big brown stain on the carpet. I'm thinking of encouraging her to sleep in the backyard tonight.

• Speaking of things I'm thinking of...I'm thinking of delurking. What is delurking, you ask? Well honestly I have no idea, but I've read the term on other blogs that I follow...when they ask for all of their lurkers to make themselves known. Basically I'm a huge blog stalker. I read tons of blogs of people I have never met and find incredibly funny. There is this special blog world where people comment on complete strangers blogs, which in turn drives up the traffic to their own blogs. Right now, I'm pretty private. I know all of my followers (unless I have stalkers which would be sweet). But sometimes I read something on a strangers blog that I find hilarious or inspiring and I'd love to be able to leave them a comment without sounding like a tool. Oh, and most of the blogs I follow host giveaways. I'd LOVE to score some free swag. But apparently you can't do that anonymously. Who made up the blog rules, anyway? Any who, it's just something I'm thinking about. Maybe I'll work up the nerve one of these days.

• My diet seems to be going well. At least in my head. Literally. My brain thinks I'm thinner on a daily basis. Great for self-esteem. That is until I try to button any pants purchased pre-baby. I have been dieting and exercising for two solid weeks now. I fell off the wagon once or twice (damn you, blue moon and your ability to alter my state of mind into convincing myself that eating crab fritters in lobster butter sauce at 11pm at night would be a fabulous idea and wouldn't harm my diet AT ALL). But aside from that falter, and a teeny slip up yesterday at lunch (but hey, someone else was buying...can't fore go a free lunch, I'm on a budget people), I've been doing great. I just have yet to see the progress...

• I am having a love affair with hot green tea. I have no idea why. The taste is slightly odd...the microscopic amount of caffeine it offers is doing nothing for my droopy eyelids...and it looks like urine. But for some reason, every time I venture to the half-million dollar coffee pot in our office kitchen, the first thing I reach for is the green tea. At least it offers 0 calories and apparently some antioxidants or something beneficial like that.

• I'm having a fantastic hair day. This is due in large part to the fact that it's not humid outside today. But it's due in larger part to the fact that this is the first time I've washed my hair since Monday. Or possibly Sunday. I honestly can't remember the last time I washed it. Man, I'm gross.

And that, folks, is what's in my head today.

Happy Friday!

Sucking it up.

So, last night was a long night. Nick went down for bed around 8:30ish, as usual. And he slept soundly until about 11:30pm. Todd was working on the computer in the loft in our bedroom and I was semi watching Chopped/semi sleeping. Around 11:30ish, when Todd came down stairs to go to bed, Nick started fussing and crying. While it's probably not what is most recommended for sleep training, instead of letting him fuss himself back to sleep, we typically go in and soothe him. So as he started up last night, I said to Todd "I suppose I have to go get him?" to which Todd said "I'll get him next time".

I went into Nick's room, scooped him up, rocked him for a few minutes, and laid him back down. And he fell back asleep. For about an hour. Close to 1am, Nick started up with the fussing again. Trying to let him fuss it out, he continued and it turned into hard sobs. So I nudged sleeping Todd and asked him to go get Nick.

He went in, rocked him for a few minutes, and then laid him back down completely awake. Nick proceeded to think this was play time and began kicking and banging the crib rails. I watched and listened to all of this on the monitor, and finally had enough -- what was going on??

So I opened the bedroom door to find Todd standing in the hall, outside of Nick's door. To which I proceeded to get pissed off. I hissed "what are you doing?!" and he just as angrily whispered back to me "well apparently I'm coddling him too much because as soon as I pick him up he falls asleep on my shoulder!" So I said, "you're just going to stand here and listen to him kick the crib rails?! FORGET IT! I'LL DO IT!"

Todd went back to bed and I picked up Nick and started to rock him. Only Nick wasn't having any of it. By 2:15am, he was still wide awake. If I held him, he laid quietly in my arms, every now and then reaching up an arm to grab at my necklace. If I laid him in his crib, he screamed. And I mean SCREAMED.

Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, I'd had enough, and I brought Nick into our room to sleep in the bed with us.

Let me say, I hate doing this. It makes for terrible sleep for all of us -- especially me, because I stay in one position all night, making sure nothing is near Nick that could cover his face. And if I do fall asleep for a little bit, I wake up just as quickly in a panic making sure no blankets or pillows have fallen over my sweet baby.

But after a few minutes of cooing and grabbing at everything he could reach in the bed, we managed to squeeze in about 4 and a half hours of sleep before it was time to get up for the day. Which, of course Nick protested loudly, as he was exhausted from his middle of the night fiesta.

I know he's a baby, and I know we're going to have sleepless nights. And in the light of the morning, it's much easier for me to look back at the nights events and be grateful for this time with Nick. He won't always need me, and there will come a time when I'll long for him to cry out in the middle of the night solely because he wants to see my face - touch my hand - nuzzle his tiny face in the crook of my neck.

But in the darkness of night. When I'm up for the 3rd, 4th, and 5th time to care for him, I find myself succumbing to anger. I become furious with Todd that he gets to sleep -- even though he has just come off of a 16 hour work day, working overtime to earn extra money for our family...and even though he has to get up 2 hours earlier than we do -- I'm mad that I once again have to do night duty. I find myself wallowing in self pity. Poor me - I must be doing this wrong. Why won't he sleep? Why didn't I start sleep training him earlier? Does anybody know how tired I am? Will my boss feel bad for me if I ask for the day off to sleep?

And then, somehow, we survive another night. And I wake up feeling regret. Regret for any of the negative feelings I've felt all night. Nick is an infant. He needs love, comfort, security and trust. All of which I give to him every time he cries out for me in the night and I respond. And I feel terrible for harboring negative feelings towards my husband. He helps when he can, but it's not fair of me to demand he take turns on night duty when he has to be at work immensely earlier and longer than I.

I need to suck it up, and let it go. My sweet, beautiful baby boy is in perfect health. He's happy, strong, and growing like a weed. All of these things I should be, and am, extremely grateful for. It's time for me to put a new foot forward, and appreciate the time I am spending with my child. I am blessed with the family I have been given, and I want to make sure they know just how much I care for and love them -- with every fiber of my being. It's time to suck it up...wipe the tiredness from my eyes...and know that one day entirely too soon, I'll be missing these sleepless nights.

I'm addicted...

...to the My Fitness Pal app for the iPhone. I love seeing precisely how many calories I am eating each day and testing myself to see if I can come in under calories, or right at my limit. I love seeing if I can do enough exercise to squeeze in enough calories for an extra snack at night. And I love that I can log in online and check all of my foods, calorie counts for the week, review my progress, etc. It has a huge database of foods, and I have yet to encounter a problem finding a food, or something very similar to a food, that I've eaten that day. It's becoming a serious addiction. Although I suppose it's better for me to be addicted to this app, than to be addicted to food.

Our family is having a little "biggest loser" competition and this has become a fantastic tool to keep me on track. Yes, I've veered off the path a couple of times, but this helps me kick my own butt back into gear and I'm extremely grateful for that.

Yesterday I was telling Todd about the app and before I could finish telling him about it he said "dammit...well, there goes my multi-million dollar idea". Apparently he had been thinking about developing an app where you could count all of your calories and track your exercise. I wish he had developed the app...it's so genius, maybe we'd be rich by now!

Regardless, it really is helping me stay motivated. I find myself being very cautious about everything I eat, knowing that it may or may not be detrimental to my allotted calories for the day. And I've become more aware in making healthy food choices. Yesterday I made chicken corn chowder in our crock pot. But I found a low fat, healthy recipe online that was low-sodium chicken stock and skim milk based. Naturally Todd balked at the idea of it because a cream based soup never tastes as good without the cream...but the soup actually ended up tasting really good, and with the calories we saved in the soup itself, along with the veggies we (both!) stocked up on, we had extra room for a little crumbled bacon and some low-fat shredded cheddar on top. Delicious, healthy, and we were both full enough that we weren't eating our arms off when we got into bed.

I also finding myself swapping any drinks for water, and when I get the afternoon sweets cravings at work -- where I used to scrape together all the change in the bottom of my purse to buy a package of otis spunkmyer cookies from the vending machine -- I now make myself a cup of green tea with splenda. Zero calories, and it keeps me preoccupied...which I find is more of the reason for my cravings -- boredom.

Whether I'm showing big improvements on the scale or not, I am already starting to feel better. I don't feel as bloated and squishy. And it only fuels my fire harder to continue on this healthier path. I like where I'm headed, and I'm determined to continue!

The Pee Pee problem

We have an issue.

The past four nights or so, Nick has wet the bed.

I know, I know, he's a baby, he can't control it. But isn't that why they invented diapers?

He is currently wearing size 3's. Which go up to 28 lbs, and while he may be a solid lump of chub, he is far from 28 lbs.

Does this mean he just has a ridiculously small bladder? Or is it possibly the full 8 oz of formula he drinks just prior to passing out?

Either way, I think the excess peeing is also waking him up in the middle of the night.

Which is obviously not so fun for mommy & daddy.

But changing his diaper in the middle of the night involves a lot of movement, cold wipes, turning on the lights, and a baby that ultimately thinks having his diaper changed in the middle of the night means "let's just get up and party!"

Which means I'm also hesitant to change his wet pj's (terrible, I know) because changing clothes all together in the middle of the night would be a serious catastrophe. So instead, if I've noticed it in the middle of the night, I've let him continue sleeping with a small wet spot on his side. (Look, I know that's horrible, but I'm just keeping it real here)

Anyway, short of making him wear plastic pants to bed, are there any suggestions for keeping the pee in his diaper? I, as well as Nick's pj's, swaddle, sheets, and mattress pad, thank you.

On being an adult

Being a grown up is hard. SO hard. Like, when I was a kid all I could ever think about was how I couldn't wait to be a grown up so I could stay up late, eat whatever I wanted for dinner, never have to do homework ever again, kiss boys, and ultimately bestow a list of rules on my own children and smile and shake my head at them when they say "I can't wait 'til I'm a grown up!"

Oh what I wouldn't give to spend one more carefree day as a child. Of course I'd want to come back to my grown up life because without it, I wouldn't have my husband, or my sweet baby, or my dog, or the great friendship I now have with my own parents and brother, or an amazing sister-in-law, or a house, or the ability to eat cereal for dinner if I feel like it.

But being a grown up is still hard. Bills pile up. And when you pay those, more bills pile up. And then you get a dog. And vet bills and dog food bills pile up. Then you buy a house and the mortgage never stops needing to be paid. Then your air conditioning unit craps out and you're forced to put on your big-boy britches, call Sears (which your childhood self would gasp at) and install a new unit for 4 times the cost of your monthly mortgage payment. Then you pop out a kid. And the hospital bills, pediatrician bills, food bills, clothing bills, and daycare bills pile up. And suddenly you're sitting on the living room steps in tears as you and your husband talk about options for cutting back expenditures and figuring out how to squeak by until you get your massive tax refund in April. (Lord, please let it be a massive refund!)

And as the world of piling bills and shelling out money and donating your organs to pay for a grocery cart full of healthy veggies and fruits to feed your husband who probably won't eat them, and your child who has no other choice, continues to rotate on it's axis, you too must continue to rotate. You must continue to find the balance between family, friendships, cleaning house, going to your job, and keeping up with personal hygiene. And by the time you snuggle and play with your kid, kiss on your hubby, have that random girls night dinner (finally), empty the dishwasher and put away the laundry, and fall into bed after a long week of work, you realize you only washed your hair once in five days and that the stubble on your legs is so long you could cause your husband to bleed out if you even attempted to rub up against him in bed.

Your pants no longer fit, which they haven't since you gave birth, but you can't figure out why they are still so tight considering you feel like you're stretched so thin that you barely have time to eat...until you realize that the stress monster is similar to the cookie monster and you didn't HAVE to buy the 3 for $1.00 chocolate chip cookies at subway for lunch...and eat them all at once...but oh my-LANTA are they delicious.

And while you've always enjoyed coffee, you're now thinking about hooking up an intravenous line to your left arm and purchasing stock in Folgers and Keurig because with all the coffee you buy and drink, your stock options alone could probably pay your mortgage and put your child through college.

At the end of the day, when you're supposed to be able to brush off the stresses of the day, close your eyes and relax, all you can see behind your eyelids is your latest gas bill and how much you'd love to have a new pair of jeans that actually button without giving you a massive muffin-top, but in order to rid the muffin-top you need to work out, but your tired ass is so unmotivated that only Chris Powell (Extreme Makeover weight loss edition) could get you off the couch and on the treadmill, and oh maybe he could convince you to wash your hair more than once this week because while nobody wants to see your back fat rolls, they certainly don't want to see them with greasy hair hanging over them. But he's probably expensive...seeing as he's a celebrity and all.

So instead you lay awake in bed thinking up get rich quick schemes, wondering if your husband will really miss his 65 inch TV when you sell it for $200 on Craig's list...and then the baby cries and you're forced out of your "whoa is me" fog, back into mommy mode.

And then you glance down at that perfect little life you created. Unknowing of your struggles. Uncaring if you're rich, or wearing the latest fashions. Non-judgmental of your stringy, dirty hair. You glance down the hall to your snoozing husband. So peaceful snuggling with the tiny dog that he didn't have to even like, but he loves like she's the last dog on earth. The man that stands by you no matter what you smell/look/act like. The man that watched you be cut open, stitched back together, have an impacted bowel, and STILL wanted to rub up on you 2 days after giving birth. And you realize...even if my entire house fell down. If I was left for broke. As long as I have my family, I'll survive.

Being an adult sucks sometimes. It's hard. It's expensive. But it really is as great as I thought it would be when I was a kid.

Well, minus the bills.

Wake up call!

Just a sweet video of my little guy waking up :)

Happy 7 (and a half...whoops) Months, Baby Boy!

How Old is Nick: Well...Nick is now 7 and a half months old. I goofed and forgot to post his 7 month post on the 2nd...and then true to form, time got away from me, I got lazy, and I proceeded to tell myself each morning "eh, you'll post it tomorrow". Well, it's finally tomorrow. So here we are!

Stats: I am not quite sure on Nick's height or weight, but in guessing on weight, we'd say he's close to 20lbs now. And I think he had a major growth spurt because his legs look much longer to me. Like it happened overnight. Clothes: At the beginning of this month, Nick was comfortably in 6 month and 6-9 month clothing. But faster than I could purchase him some new 9 month clothing, he just about grew out of anything 6 month sized. The other day we were getting ready to head to a wedding and Todd said Nick needed an undershirt under his dress shirt. So he grabbed the closest onesie and put it on him. Nick screamed the whole time, and we found out it was because the shirt was so tight it looked like it was cutting off circulation to his legs. Todd said "eh, it's like under-armor...he'll be fine". But I was not cool with it. So instead we opted for one of his regular little white t-shirts to put underneath...and damn if that t-shirt wasn't size 18 months! And kind of snug! Sheesh! I'm worried because I recently bought Nick some Halloween and Thanksgiving pj's in 9 month size and I'm pretty sure he won't be able to wear them when it's time. He's even wearing some 12 month size stuff. Chubby boy!

Sleep: Knock on wood...I don't want to jinx anything, but he's been sleeping much better. We still have our nightly routine of bath, lotion/pj's, and then nightly bottle on mommy's lap while dozing off to sleep. Each night I put Nick down after he's fallen completely asleep in my arms. I know that's not necessarily how it should be done, but it works for us and I love our time together in the evenings. Plus I get to watch whatever crap TV is on that I love while Todd gets to watch his sports center and Hugh Hefner documentaries (I kid you not - but that's a whole 'nother post) in the living room. Nick has decided he prefers sleeping on his belly, but only if he flips to his belly while completely asleep. If he flips over while half awake, he gets very upset and starts yelling and crying. Sometimes just giving him his pacifier will be enough for him to put his head down and fall back asleep, but other times he needs to be picked up, rocked, and placed back in his crib on his back. We also attempted to drop the swaddle for a while this summer, but we're back to using it and I think it helps him sleep better. His arms are never swaddled (haven't been since he was about 4 weeks old), but I think he likes the pressure around his mid-section and it helps keep him warm. Boy LOVES to be snuggly warm. Either way, he's always been a fairly easy-going sleeper, with most middle of the night wake ups being attributed to cutting a new tooth, being too cold, or peeing out of his diaper. Though last night he apparently peed through his diaper, pj's and swaddle, and never made a peep. Slept from 8:30pm to 7:15am straight through, and probably would've slept longer if I hadn't woken him up to go to daycare.

Milestones: Nick is CRAZY mobile now. Put him on his back and within seconds he's on his belly, rolling to his back again, back to his belly, pushing himself backwards, sliding all over the floor, doing the army crawl. I think we're only days away from crawling, but I won't be upset if it takes longer than a few days. It's tough enough to keep up with him rolling all over the place. He also yells and makes noises ALL THE TIME. It's hilarious, really. He likes to have yelling competitions, and he'll open his mouth really wide, revealing all of his bottom teeth, while saying a long string of babbling noises that, if you strain reaaaaally hard, could sound like the words dada. The babysitter is also convinced that he can say hi, as most days when you say "Hi Nick" he'll make some sort of "Eee!" noise in return. Also, Nick is up to 4 bottom teeth, and no top teeth. He sits up to play, but still loves to stand and jump. He loves to play with toys -- especially the new shape sorting turtle we bought him (though he doesn't know how to sort the shapes yet...he just likes to put the blocks in his mouth and bang the turtle shell on the floor).

Food/Appetite: Nick is still on baby food/purees. The babysitter is way more adventurous with him than I am, and I'm so thankful for that as I think he'd live the rest of his life on sweet potatoes and apple sauce if it were just me feeding him. He's had chicken and turkey ground up at the sitter's...as well as just about every vegetable and fruit you can imagine. He loves the sweet items and has yet to meet a fruit he doesn't enjoy. His least favorite veggies are green beans and spinach. He also still has four 8oz bottles per day, though he rarely finishes all 8 oz of each. Usually his last bottle of the night he will crush all of...but around lunch time he usually only wants about 4oz or so. And we also recently tried puffs! He loves them, but much prefers that you just place them in his mouth instead of encouraging him to do it himself. His fine motor skills are still adjusting and his "pincer grasp" (thumb and forefinger) are lacking. Mostly he likes to grab the puffs with his fist, and then try to shove his entire fist in his mouth. Which means a puff gets in there maybe 1% of the time by his own doing. He also isn't keen on chewing as he prefers to squish everything between his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Occasionally he'll chew a puff a bit, but mostly he just wants them to dissolve enough that he can swallow them whole. Adventures: Nick had his first baby play date this month. There were four other baby girls and one baby boy there. Before the play date, Nick wasn't sitting up all that much. But at the play date, he did more sitting than ever before, and has been a sitting fool ever since. Such a ladies man ;). He also attended his second wedding, and aside from a couple of times making noise during the ceremony, and again during the father of the bride's speech, he was an angel. Didn't cry once! And of course stayed up way past his bedtime, but fell asleep on the way home and slept all night.

I think I say this every month, but this is by far my favorite age. Nick is interactive, sweet, loving, and OH so cute. He usually gives kisses when asked (i.e. grabs my face with one of his chubby little hands on each side - usually pulling my hair in the process - and planting his wide open mouth, full of drool, on my cheek. It's the best kiss I've ever had.) He giggles at Whinnie and enjoys pulling her hair. And he LOVES when people clap for him. He's noisy, loud, chubby, snuggly, and so fun. Every day gets better and better and his daddy and I couldn't love him more!

Crazy dreams

I know I haven't posted Nick's 7 month update yet, and I'm totally going to, but let's be honest, he's just as adorable, noisy, and happy as last month. He's sleeping through the night on his stomach, and he poops pretty often, with the exception of the past two days, which I have a sneaking suspicion means he is constipated. But really, aside from my mom and possibly Jay, who wants to read about my son's bowel movements? Nobody? Ok then.

SO until I post how glorious my 7 month old is, let me regale you with a little tale I like to call "Nightmare's on M(elissa) Street".

Yesterday morning started off pretty sucky. I side-swiped a car in the parking garage at work, mostly just removing a foot-long streak of the car's paint. Instantly I burst into tears because, hello, I have a conscience. I called my dad who was probably annoyed, but didn't let on -- though he did tell me "quit crying...they weren't even in the car!" ha, touche dad. (Seriously though he made me feel a ton better.) So I called my insurance, filed a claim, and left an "OMG I TOTALLY HIT YOUR CAR I'M SO FRICKIN' SORRY BUT I CRIED A LOT AND THEN CALLED MY INSURANCE AND THEY'RE TOTALLY GOING TO PAY FOR IT SO DON'T HIT MY CAR IN RETALIATION PLEASE" note on their car and went to work.

Todd frowned a lot when I told him what happened, and I'm pretty sure he took mental notes for his personal ammunition files when I start back up with the "but I neeeeed a new car" pleading. But he hugged me and said it was ok anyway. And then threatened divorce if our insurance rates go up. (KIDDING)

But all the crying I did in the morning, combined with the yucky sore throat I've had all week apparently decided to team up and give me a full blown cold. Thus my nose was running like a faucet while attempting to give Nick his nightly bottle last night, and putting him to bed was only prolonged by the fact that he woke up like I'd just fired a gun in his ear every time I sneezed.

So after Nick was finally down and sleeping peacefully, I decided I should take some Nyquil and call it a day. Naturally though, the only medicine we had in our medicine cabinet was some expired tylenol cold & flu, some REALLY expired benadryl, and a teaspoon of generic nyquil that barely constituted a worthy dosage, and may or may not have expired as I couldn't quite tell if the expiration date said 4/10 or 4/18. (After purchasing some new generic nyquil this morning at Giant, I am fully aware that the stuff I took last night must've expired in 2010 as the bottle I bought this morning expires in 2014 and there is no possible way that the older bottle's expiration date was four years later than the new one. I digress.)

WELL, apparently expired generic Giant brand nyquil gives me crazy dreams.

Around 1:22am, Nick started crying (he's cutting a tooth on the bottom - seriously, he's like a piranha) so I wobbled to his crib in a dazed nyquil cloud, picked him up, and rocked him back to sleep. I went back to bed and 10 minutes later he was crying again. Knowing I didn't feel well, Todd put his hand on my back and said "I got him". No complaints here -- I instantly passed back out.

And during that time I dreamt that Todd went to pick up Nick, brought him back to our room, and said "he can just sleep in our bed". To which I went ballistic. I started cursing and using the F word like nobodies business. I picked up Nick and said to Todd "well that's just F-ing ridiculous. Why are we going to have him sleep in our bed all night? This is F-ing stupid. F-ing crazy. I'm so F-ing pissed. UGH!" And I took Nick into the other room and held him while muttering more profanity.

Only it didn't really happen. When Todd left for work at 5:30am, I was in a complete nyquil coma, but feeling horrible that I had flown off the handle at him. So as he kissed me goodbye (which I couldn't understand because I would've been so pissed at me) I said "did you want to bring Nick in here to sleep in our bed last night?" Todd sounded confused and said "no? why?" and I said "did I get mad at you?" and Todd said "no...I don't think so?" I had dreamt the whole thing. And that was that -- I don't remember any more of our conversation because my nyquil hangover knocked me back out.

I also had a horrendous dream about my parents getting a divorce and my dad having to go live in an apartment on top of a gas station and my mom using all the divorce settlement money to buy new appliances for the whole house (which I think stemmed from my mom telling me last night that she was looking to get a new washer/dryer).

But holy mackerel was that a bizarre night. I woke up still convinced that I had cursed Todd out for helping out with the baby, and that my parents were on the verge of divorce. I blame it all on the Giant brand expired nyquil.

But damn if that didn't stop me from buying a brand new bottle of the exact same stuff this morning. Can't wait to see what I dream about tonight!

Labor Day Fun

We started off our Labor Day weekend with a momentous event -- Nick's first college football day -- specifically, his first Michigan game! We dressed him in his little jersey and hat (both of which I will probably cry about when he outgrows them).

Then Nick and Daddy spent some time lounging together, watching the game. Nick could hardly sit still for pictures, he was so excited about a Michigan win!

After Whinnie spent most of Friday and Saturday pouting about the fact that her hair was so long, she could barely see, we decided it was time to take her in for a haircut...

And she was thrilled with the outcome! Such a beautiful girl!Late Monday, despite waking up with some serious congestion and a lot of boogers/snot, we decided since it had been over a week since Nick saw Gramma and Boss, that it was time to pay them a visit. They just returned from a nice vacation in Florida and brought Nick back some presents. He couldn't have been more thrilled! We also attended a nice Labor Day BBQ on Sunday with some great friends and got to meet baby Owen -- such a cutie! Sadly, I took no pics while we were there.

Otherwise, we spent the rest of our last weekend of summer relaxing and being generally adorable. Proof:

We woke up this morning after a full 10 hours of sleep (for Nick - hooray!) in which Nick spent 90% of the night on his tummy -- it's officially, he's a belly sleeper. Sadly, the first day of fall came with a lot of rain, but it also came with temps in the mid 60's, which excites me to no end. Bring on the pumpkin spiced latte's and candles, sweaters, Ugg boots, pumpkin patches, and of course, my last year in my 20's! Goodbye hot summer, hello sweet fall!

Welcome Jamie!

Today I was going to post about my experience last night with dying my own hair. From a box. And how in doing so I now bear slightly more of a resemblance to my son...and carrot top.


But as I logged in to Blogger this morning, I was overcome with a bittersweet joy, and I felt the need to share. Bittersweet because it does not bring baby James back to his parents...but his legacy will live on in the form of his most favorite animal.


I have been following James Camden Sikes since the beginning of his blog. His precious life was ended too soon at 8 months old due to a ferocious Rhabdoid tumor. His mom posted about James being an angel on loan from God and how "8 months is a long time to spend with an angel". How blessed they were to have sweet baby James for those 8 months. I have the utmost sympathy for the Sikes family, especially James' parents, and I pray for their healing.

They don't know me from Adam, but when they posted about the new baby giraffe at the Dallas Zoo, I knew I had to mail in my vote. So I sent in a nomination form in honor of James, all the way from VA.

And lo and behold, the new baby giraffe has been named Jamie, in honor of James Camden Sikes! 71% of the votes received were in honor of James!

The next time I make it to Dallas, I promise to pay Jamie a visit, tell her how her namesake touched so many lives around the country, and how she has a wonderful guardian angel watching over her closely.