Our Very Own Elf On The Shelf

Meet..... Legolas.

I know, I know. No long blonde hair, no miraculously full quiver of arrows, no hobbit to follow. But still, he's an elf, and therefore he shall be called Legolas. This is what happens when you marry a gamer nerd. Jack couldn't decide on a name, so we asked Papa for input. He made the suggestion, Jack (age 3, knowing nothing of the "real" Legolas) loved it, and so it stuck.

Jack's Aunt Sandie sent the Elf on the Shelf set for Jack and we received it today. He was thrilled, and couldn't wait to read the story. She also sent him the stuffed elf along with other elven goodies, and that stuffed elf was tucked firmly under Jack's arm and carried off to bed (his name is also Legolas, because Jack insisted they have the same name) where he and the boy are snuggling as I type.

I have seen several posts on Pinterest and from friends who have their own elf about what sort of mischief the elves can get into at night, but I dreamed this up all on my own. Jack loves Pez, so last night when Legolas went to the North Pole to report back to Santa, he returned with a new General Grievous Pez dispenser. He loaded the dispenser with one pack of Pez, then decided to chomp on a few himself before getting caught in the morning. Naughty little elf!

Do you have an elf on your shelf?

Sidetracked

I was busy on Friday getting the house ready for company, and had an obscene amount of dishes that needed washing. I have had two back to back colds/sore throats, so things had gotten a little out of control. And, since one of the many joys of owning an old (110+ years!) home is a lack of a dishwasher and no hope of getting one without a major renovation, well, I was in for a solid hour of washing.

Jack does pretty well (usually *ahem*) with entertaining himself if I need to do dishes or pick things up, but I tend to save these larger tasks for when he's in bed at night or at naptime. This time I was on a time crunch though, so there was no way around it. I needed to work and I needed an easy distraction. Enter the train wash:

Like any kid, Jack loves to play with bubbles. Whenever I do the dishes, he'll ask to grab a handful, and then usually claps his hands together and giggles while they shoot into the air and fall around him like snowflakes. I got tired of walking on a soap-sticky floor, so I encouranged him to "draw" with the bubbles on the island. On Friday, we introduced trains to the mix. He was enthralled for the duration of my dish washing adventure, continuously coming back for more bubbles as each of the four trains maneuvered in and around them. When we were all done, I rinsed and dried them, too, and to my knowledge they are none the worse for wear. Only one of the four had a battery operated light... had I noticed early enough we would have nixed that one {Proteus} from the party. Ah well. I'm just a mama, not a superhero. I can't catch *every*thing.

Our makeshift Sodor Engine Wash (with "Live Action Bubbles!" )...

See how happy Salty is? He got cleaned up, Jack got a solid hour of fun play with good imaginative and sensory applications, and I got the dishes done!

PEEP, PEEP! We are all really useful engines! hehe.

Party Like A Jedi

My littlest boy turned three yesterday(!), and to celebrate we had a little "Yoda Party". Jack is very much his own person with a stubborness I have never seen before in any child (although if you ask my mother she may claim to have had one other experience with such a streak, but I have no idea what she is talking about). When grandma asked if we were going to eat before we opened gifts, I thought, yeah, right. Sure enough, as soon as the gifts started coming in, he was having a fit because he couldn't open them. If this first picture was a a video clip you'd be hearing "WHAZZINDERR? WHAZZINDERR??" over and over and over and over and, well, you get the picture....

How sad he looks while he stands guard to make sure no one takes his beloved Yoda bag (which, by the way, has become as much of a toy for him as the toys it contained). Jackie got lots of fun gifts, including some books we've been wanting (Llama, Llama, Red Pajama, and Oh, The Places You'll Go) and both LOVE, some Star Wars guys, clothes, a Star Wars chair, a Hot Wheels track, etc., etc., etc.... and this light saber from grandma. Never mind that that is one child. With six light sabers. He neeeeeeds them, don't you know?! We will soon be holding Jedi training for the block. Watch your mailbox for info... (heh.)

Here is a picture of our traditional cupcake tower. I cheated this year and bought these cupcakes rather than making them. I felt like a bad mom, but everyone lived through it so I guess it wasn't so bad. And, most importantly, Jack absolutely loved the "Darf Ader" cupcakes. He still carries that candle holder around with him (in the aforementioned Yoda bag) and thinks it's a toy. Remind me again why I buy this child expensive gifts when he's happy with a gift bag and a candle holder?!

His favorite part of the whole day, however, was NOT Darf Ader. It was NOT Yoda, nor even the gifts. It was all of us singing the Happy Birthday song. :) He demanded an encore. And then another. I'll bet it was the most curtain calls many of us - myself included - have ever gotten. We finally video taped it the third time around because he was so stinkin' cute the way he'd run around laughing and dancing and then clap at the end. I'll have to remember to share it once I get it uploaded to YouTube... Here we are with his godfather, Tod, clapping after the first round of song... Aaaaand here we are with our Star Wars hat (a.k.a. my table centerpiece). And what, you ask, is that underneath it? That would be his train shaped Easter basket. Because he thinks that - and just about everything else - is also a hat. This from the child that would NOT wear a hat for love nor money for a full two and half years (once he could reach it to pull it off). I also love this picture because I feel like it's a foreshadowing of photos I will see some twenty years from now after other parties where maybe a little too much fun was had.

Mama.... Where am I? What time is it? I had the craziest dream. There was all this singing, and all these light sabers and I think we demolished the dark side....

Yes, yes you did, little man....

Thank goodness the galaxy is safe once again!

Joy! Joy! Joy?

Jack and I were watching a new show on Netflix on Demand (love that, by the way) today. I don't know the exact name of it, but it's something similar to Baby Einstein except with a Christian theme. This particular one was about the story of Jonah and the Whale (or "Big Fish" if you want to get technical, which they apparently do not). Most of the show is filled with instrumental music of songs that I remember from Sunday School, but at one point children start singing along to one, so I decided to sing along with them.

"I've got that joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart! Down in my heart, down in my heart!"

Jack loves when I sing, and tries to mimic me with words a few seconds too late and knee slaps a bit off beat, but he's so stinkin' cute those things don't even matter. He's smiling and laughing and I'm smiling and singing....

"...and I'm so haappy! So very haaaappy!....."

We're really on a roll here!

"....I've got the love of Je *sniff* s *sob* us in *sob*..."

Aaaaaand I can barely choke out that last sentence because I am bursting into tears. Jack looks at me like I have three heads and two of them just managed to spontaneously combust. Not only did I muff the song and further disrupt his knee-slapping, belly laughing fervor, I started *crying*! In a song about JOY!

HELLO, MAMA! We're singing about JOY here!! DuH! I can just read it on his face...

My little man does not realize yet that there are happy tears and sad tears. He doesn't understand the feeling that you are losing every single thing you love in the world, and the only thing you have to hold on to is that love of Jesus this very song sings about that is etched deep in your heart. He doesn't realize how very much that love means to you on your darkest days, nor how you're really not entirely sure you could survive without it. I remember the doctor coming in to tell us they had done all they could do for Henry. When he left, the first thing I said to my husband was "Thank God I was raised in Faith." Because I knew then that I needed the assurance of Jesus and His word to get me through that day, and every other day for the rest of my life.

I am grateful for the diligence of my mom and grandparents who insisted I attend worship every. single. week. (sometimes two or three times a week!) as a child and young adult. We lived in the country, and I can remember massive snow storms that my grandpa would drive through to get me to Sunday School, when even city kids were absent. God bless you, Grandpa. You didn't know it then, but every trip you took added up and you may have single handedly saved my life some thirty years later.

When we would ride in to town, I would sit next to Grandpa and sing to him for the duration of the whole 20 minute trip. I would be willing to bet that I even sang this song a dozen or more times. Who knew how it would define me all these years later? Grandpa always loved listening to me sing - he encouraged it. His favorite song for me to sing was "I'm in the Lord's Army (Yes, Sir!)" I still remember the whole (short) song, and it brings tears to my eyes to even think of it because he loved it that much. As a military man himself, I think he could relate to it. It said what needed to be said, and was short, direct, and to the point, much like himself. His least favorite song for me to sing was The First Noel. Because he said I was always off pitch on it. He was a military man and a painter by trade, but he couldn't sing a note so I blame his ear rather than my voice.

Ha. Kidding, Grandpa. Just kidding.

Anyhow, when you look at me, or read my blog, or hear me talk, and think, I just don't know how she does it... Remember this blog post. Remember Jesus. He is how I do it. He is my strength.

I may never march in the infantry, ride in the cavalry, shoot the artillery. I may never fly o'er the enemy, but I'm in the Lord's army. Yes Sir!...

A Message To Heaven

This past Sunday the family took a drive through the cemetery to visit our little man. Last year the snow in the cemetery was such that if you were creative, you could walk between the drifts and pretty much get from the road to the grave site on grass. This year we weren't quite so lucky. A nice, thick, evenly distributed, blanket of snow is covering the grounds and we weren't dressed for trudging through it. As we rounded the bend before coming up to his area, I noticed something in the snow. About ten feet long, there was a message written from someone to "Bruce", saying several sweet things including, "Thank you for loving me." Once we got to our area, I took my lead from that writer and left a message myself, on behalf of all who were in the van (Jack, Papa, Grandma, Great-Grandma): "We {heart} you, Bug".

I've often thought about you, my blog readers, and thought of things I can post here. Unfortunately my follow through hasn't been so great. We are now 15 months past Henry's death and it still seems like it was yesterday at times. I'm not sure that feeling will ever go away. The pain is still very fresh and very real and very constant. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't feel something - pain, remorse, guilt. I can't pinpoint any one thing that gets to me more than anything else, it just happens at random. I've been struggling with bitterness, and a general lack of empathy. These are both characteristics that are new to me and so different from the person I was before November 2, 2009. I'm not sure what to do with those feelings, so I pray about them. I pray that simple prayer that I have prayed nearly every day for 15 months - first about the saddness and desperation I was feeling. Then about the guilt. Now about the bitterness: Lord, please lift these feelings from my heart and help me find peace. Such a short little prayer, but a powerful one, and thankfully one that is responded to quickly. Those feelings are frequent but brief and I am grateful for that brevity.

I wonder about heaven a lot. What it is like, who we'll see there. I find myself seeking out literature about it - scriptures, stories, "eye-witness" accounts from folks who claim to have been there and returned to earth. All of it fascinates me. I'm a bit of a skeptic with the folks who say they've been there and back, but I don't discount their stories... I just don't pin my dreams on them, if that makes sense. Awhile back I was looking for some words of wisdom to share with a girlfriend who is also going through a grief process of her own after the sudden unexpected death of her mother, and I found this quote by Dwight L. Moody:

"Very often people come to me and say: "Mr. Moody, do you think we shall know each other in Heaven?" There is a verse in Scripture in answer to this, and that is: "We shall be satisfied." (Psalm 17:15). It is all I wanted to know. My brother who went up there the other day I shall see, because I shall be satisfied. We will see all those we loved on Earth up there, and if we loved them here, we will love them ten thousand times more when we meet them there."

I found comfort in this, and have carried it with me ever since that day. As I get older, and continue to grow in my faith (because let's face it, faith, like love, is a verb - an action word - continuously moving and growing, enveloping and developing), I realize more and more that this earth is not the end of my journey just as it was not the end of his. He is in heaven, and he is waiting for all of us who love him, and one day we will all be satisfied just as he is today. He doesn't know the pain of missing his mama, papa, "bee", and grandmas, just the anticipation and excitement as he awaits our arrival. What will be decades of life for us on earth will be only seconds to him in heaven before we are reunited again.

Until that day, I am here, and I am waking up every morning, and living the life God intended for me to live. I am taking care of my family and watching my baby boy (who is much more boy than baby these days) grow at an unprecedented rate of speed. We are nearing the end of our therapy with the wonderful "Birth to 3" therapists who have helped us over the last 16 months, and we couldn't be happier with the progress Jack has made. His vocabulary has exploded, and he is picking up new words and activities every single day. He knows his alphabet forward, backward, and sideways (which makes Aunt Julie the kindergarten teacher very proud because she will tell you that just because you can sing the song doesn't mean you know your alphabet.). He can identify the letters in any order right side up or upside down (which surprised us all!). He is counting from 1 - 13 unassisted, 13-29 with a little help. He loves to sing(!) and his favorite songs are the alphabet song, Old MacDonald, and Jingle Bells.

That last one makes my heart smile, because Jingle Bells was the only song Henry ever attempted (despite Old MacDonald being his all time favorite for me to sing while he chimed in with the animal noises). Henry would run up to a cat toy we have hanging on the door and shake it (there are bells on it) and sing, "Jingle bells, jingle bells, oh we have funnnnnn!!!!!!"

*smile*

Jack is obsessed with dinosaurs and can identify about 50 different types of dinosaur by name (and alternate name where applicable, as is the case with the Gravitholus who is also called Prenocephale, and Stenonychosaurus who is also known as Troodon... things I never thought I'd learn, much less teach my two year old). He loves puzzles and play time, and, and, and..... I could go on forever. He's quite the character, and we love him more than he'll probably ever know. We are so blessed to have him in our lives, and so grateful that in losing Henry we were able to save Jack. It is the bright and shiny silver lining to that very dark cloud.

Looking forward, I have purchased paint for Henry's bedroom to bring it from it's current bright yellow little boy nursery to a much more muted beige guest room. It is the bigger of our two bedrooms for the boys, but I'm not ready to move Jack into it yet. Not ready to open that door every morning expecting a face that is no longer looking back at me to be on the other side. Maybe some day, but not today. I will post pictures once that project is complete. Although I am sad to paint the room and convert it back, I know that keeping it untouched does not bring my boy back. And, truthfully, I regretted that bright yellow color choice from day one, so in that respect the change will be welcomed.

We also have a birthday party to plan in the not-too-distant future as Jack will turn three at the end of March. It looks like a dino party is in order, and we are already scheming to switch out his Raggedy Ann & Andy decor for some dinorific decorations as our gift to him.

I am also very proud of my husband who has been working diligently for months now on getting Henry's bedtime stories illustrated and published. The first book will be available soon in hardcover, and we are so excited about it - there aren't even words to express what this means to us, and especially to Papa whom Henry shared those stories with every night. Not only are we getting the stories out, but we are doing so in a way that will benefit other children with rare diseases. Click over to the Adventures of Henry website if you'd like to learn more or help great causes by ordering a copy or three. *wink*

Thank you, as always, for your continued thoughts and prayers. We are so grateful for the strong network of family and friends (both in person and online) that God has blessed us with.

God bless,

My I Love You

My I Love You

by Maryann Cusimano Love

I am your parent; you are my child.

I am your quiet place; you are my wild.

I am your calm face; you are my giggle.

I am your wait; you are my wiggle.

I am your carriage ride; you are my king.

I am your push; you are my swing.

I am your audience; you are my clown.

I am your London Bridge; you are my falling down.

I am your carrot sticks; you are my licorice.

I am your dandelion; you are my first wish.

I am your water wings; you are my deep.

I am your open arms; you are my running leap.

I am your way home; you are my new path.

I am your dry towel; you are my wet bath.

I am your dinner; you are my chocolate cake.

I am your bedtime; you are my wide awake.

I am your finish line; you are my race.

I am your praying hands; you are my saying grace.

I am your favorite book; you are my new lines.

I am your night-light; you are my starshine.

I am your lullaby; you are my peekaboo.

I am your good-night kiss; you are my I love you.

reflecting

I just thought I'd take a minute to blog over here since it has been awhile. I've posted a few recipes on my craft blog in the past few weeks, so if you haven't been keeping up over there be sure to take a peek! I have oodles of recipes that I've clipped from different magazines and publications and enjoy trying new ones. We've been having a bake sale at church every weekend as part of our city's farmer's market, so that has been keeping me busy in the kitchen... and it's a good thing, because I typically just try one piece and then send the rest off before I'm tempted to eat more!

Life has been crazy busy lately, but if you ask me exactly what it is that's keeping us busy I couldn't pinpoint anything major. Just the day to day stuff, and keeping up with Jack (whom you see giving you his best, most beautiful smile above! This is a typical scene - smiles and as many toys as we can carry at one time. :) ). Our little boy is quite the handful, and so different from his big brother. Always on the go! Of course we all still miss Henry and think of him daily. My desktop image is a favorite photo of him, and I have a snapshot next to the light on my night stand. I say good morning and good night to him every day, and remind him that I love him. He had three favorite bedtime stories, and I tell one or all of them to Jack every night because I think Henry can hear me, too. Sometimes I sit at the cemetary and tell them to his grave - I have them memorized, you know. I know all about what happens if you give a moose a muffin. And I also can tell you exactly how that duck got stuck in the muck down by the "beep bween mawsh" (i.e. deep green marsh), as Henry used to say. Not to mention how to use your nose to find things to smell (your beak or your snuffle can work just as well)! I can't get past the feeling that this - life - is not how it was meant to be, despite my core belief that everything is a part of His master plan. It's quite the paradox of emotions. *sigh*

Darrin and I have worked hard to keep Henry alive in Jack's memory. We show him photos and videos regularly, and Henry is often a part of daily conversation. You like Spiderman? Your brother loved Spiderman! That's something you have in common! Jack will look at the photos on our buffet and point to his brother and say, "N-er!", which is his take on "Henry". :) If you ask Jack what his name is, he will say, "Bee!"... a nick-name Henry gave him when he was born. Then we say, "Or?" and he says, "Zack!" (i.e. Jack). If we ask him where his brother is, he will simply point up to Heaven. It warms and breaks my heart, all at the same time.

We are still in the process of choosing a headstone for Henry. And by "we", I pretty much mean me. I have thought long and hard about this, and Darrin and I have discussed all of the options I like (which thankfully he likes, too), but I still cannot commit to one. I tell myself that it's because I want to make sure it's perfect. I look at it like a tattoo. Once you get it, you have it forever (note: it was about eight years between idea and commitment on my tattoo. I like to think things through.). But I wonder if maybe my delay is because that one final act will make everything official... you know, as if it's not already. We are leaning towards a beautiful memorial marker that is a mirage of photos of our boy, but I occasionally go back to the thought of a simple marker that is unassuming and reserved. Because if my boy were given the chance to grow to manhood, I believe that is how he would have been. He would have been humble and sweet and reserved. I could tell all of that in the short time we had him. Maybe a mother just knows? He was so much like his great-grandfather (his namesake). Such an old soul. And maybe that was a gift from God... allowing us to look into those eyes and see so much more than this three years. I don't know, but I like to think so.

I still don't understand why all of this happened, and I'm doubtful that I ever will. But I continue to push forward - probably with more gusto than ever, because I feel him with me, encouraging me, driving me, forcing me to be the mum that he saw rather than the one I really was. Because our children do not see what we see. They see all the good. They see someone who makes the sun rise and set, and they think she is almost mythical. If I can live up to a fraction of the worth he saw in me, that Jack sees in me, I'll consider myself a success.

Until next time,

packer backer in training

"Hey, Jack! You get to go to Green Bay today and see Lambeau Field!!"

Doesn't he look excited?!

"Hey, Jack! Wanna go to Soldier Field instead?"

Yeah, I thought not.

So, off we went to Green Bay. We had to take my uncle back to the airport, and took in a few stores while we were in town. Our final destination was the Packer Pro Shop, where we found a new winter hat for the little guy...

I'm telling you, had he actually kept the thing on, he probably would own it today. Because I'm just that mean. Heh.

After our shopping excursion, we decided to have lunch right at Lambeau at Curly's Pub. Ahh, nothing says football like crappy service and inflated prices. The food was yummy (highly recommend the "Chicken Booyah" soup. Yum!), but that's about all I can say for the place. I'm pretty sure they are under the impression that people will keep them in business solely because of their location inside the stadium so they needn't try to exert themselves with customer service. Like I said though, it was good food and excellent company, so we left happy.

It was also Jack's first experience with a booster seat instead of a high chair:

We were seated at a high table, so the chairs were a good three feet off the ground, and Jack was a total wiggle worm so my uncle sacrificed his belt to help control the situation. :) He got it back a little worse for wear (think greasy little fingers that like to explore), but it served its purpose!

Finally, here's a pic of my grandma and uncle together. Awwww...
We love you, Uncle Donnie!

three mothers, four generations

I caught some flack recently for not blogging lately. *ahem*. I can't say I have an exceptionally good reason for my lapse... I just haven't been blogging. I've been keeping myself busy with choir, dance rehearsal, and reading. I thought I'd take a minute to post a new picture for you all, and give you a little update on our family.

The picture I have posted above was taken on Mothers Day this year... all four generations on the maternal side of my family. Mothers Day, as always, was pretty low key this year. I'm sure people wondered how I was doing that day, given the death of our son in November, but I did ok. I find that I do well in the times when people would expect me to break down, and then break down at random times when it hits everyone out of the blue.... Except that I don't think I've ever been with anyone during one of my breakdowns, so many people think I don't have them. Well, they'd be wrong.

The pain of losing a child is deep, and I'm certain it will never leave me. I do my best during the day to stay strong for Jack's sake. My mind wanders to Henry frequently, but I will myself to think of the happy memories we had, and not about the last few days of his life. If I allow myself to reflect on those days, I feel myself sliding down a slippery slope of regret, self blame, and despair. It's not a pretty place, and deep in my heart I know that I am a good mother and did all I could for my son, however it is hard to not reexamine every little detail. Maybe if I had pushed harder here, maybe if I had taken this more seriously, maybe if I had prayed harder then. Maybe, maybe, maybe. In the end, those thoughts get me no where and serve no purpose so, as I said, I don't linger on them. I choose instead to focus on the wonderful days I had with my precious boy, the glory that beholds him now, and the day we will all be reunited again in God's kingdom.

Although there are many things to be sad about, there are also many things to give thanks for. Jack continues to blossom into an amazing little boy, and thrills all of us daily. He is so much like Henry, yet so different. It's amazing to see the similarities and contrasts as he grows. His vocabulary is expanding daily, and although he's clearly pushing his limits as well as any two year old would, he is also developing a softer side that allows for snuggle time and kisses that melt me. He is my saving grace.

The mister and I have been spending some time re-examining our diets in terms of what kinds of foods we are eating and where those foods are coming from. We've been transitioning to more whole foods and much less processed food. We've cut out soda entirely, as well as other artificially sweetened drinks and are moving towards more organic produce, dairy, etc. We're looking forward to the bounty of locally grown produce that comes with summer, and are visiting the first farmers market of the season tomorrow in Berlin and Princeton, WI. Jackie got a new haircut today, so we might have to take the camera along and make some stops for a few bloggy photo ops!

Stay tuned!

pearls make the man

When I was a child, I had a cat named Fluffy. She was a long haired angora and was... well... Fluffy. Hence the name. *wink* For entertainment, we would take the ring from a jug of milk and tie a string to it and the Fluffster would chase me around for hours while I dragged that ring on the floor behind me. No one told me I was practicing for parenthood, but as it happens, Jack will react the exact same way when I drag a strand of Christmas tree pearls behind me! LOL!

He was absolutely fascinated with these pearls, and they kept him happy all the while I dismantled my Valentine's tree last month (yep, you read that right. I had a tree full of hearts and pearls. I know. You don't even have to say it.). After I gave them to him, I realized that it was probably not the brightest idea I've ever had (hello! choking hazard!), but I watched him like a hawk and scooped them up as soon as he was distracted for a second. In the meantime though I got a ton of great blackmail pictures. hee hee. Nothing like a shirt full of tools, some camo pants, and a string of pearls. I'd say that outfit's complete!

Sooo...

What's all wrong with this picture?

Let's see....

1. Jack likes to take his pants off at nap time sometimes. Like this day.

2. Aaaand what's that you see just a few inches behind the pants? That would be a diaper. The diaper. As in, the one he was wearing when he got in bed.

3. Note the dark spot on the sheet near his right foot. That would be wet. And the best part is, he was fine until he saw me. I excited him. :)

4. That was my first thought anyhow... then I realized that whole half of the crib sheet was wet. *sigh*

5. Check out the big smile! He's so happy to be airing out and shooting his willy all willy nilly around the room.

As a side note, how about those ugly crib rail guards!? Jack went through a "I'll chew my way out of the crib" phase, so I improvised and tied fleece blankets over the rails with the ugliest ribbon in my collection. Fear not though, Raggedy Ann and Andy fleece is in the house, and new guards that match the nursery will be done soon.... although I think we've passed the chewing phase and probably don't even need them anymore.

It has been awhile since I've blogged, so I thought it was time for an update. We're getting through the days, trying to stay positive and focus on the future. There are very few days without tears, but we're getting through with each other.

Thanks for all of your continued prayers and support.

Are you scared?

Here is Jackie at 19 mos in a cute little shirt his grandma bought him for Halloween. In case you can't read it, it says, "I may be cute but I still bite." Darrin snapped this picture of him, and I just love the face he's making. Totally works with the shirt, don't you think?!

Poor little guy is living in a padded world right now. We're so sensitive to every little cough or sigh with him, but he sure has done a lot for us both in terms of keeping us both sane over the past month.

Jack's First Haircut

After nearly 18 months of growth, I finally decided it was time for Jack's first haircut a few weeks ago. We talked about taking him to Sport Clips where Darrin and Henry have their hair done, but the thought of me holding him down while trying not to get clipped myself just didn't appeal to me, SO... I did it myself. I've only cut hair one other time in my life.... it was Darrin's hair, outside at his parents house with an old electric trimmer. I don't think I've ever seen his Dad laugh harder than he did that day. Turns out that cosmotology is *not* my God given talent. But all things considered, I think I did a pretty good job on the little man!

For those who have followed my blogs for awhile, you may remember how my hubby gave Henry his first haircut.

I'm not saying we are in competition with each other, but if we were, well, I'd totally be winning. :)

At Seventeen Months...

1. You are absolutely addicted to Thomas the Tank Engine.
2. Your giggle melts my heart.
3. You've gotten into more stuff than your brother has in over three years.
4. Your favorite snack is cinammon flavored Goldfish crackers.
5. You sleep like a champ... something I was fairly certain would NEVER happen had you asked me a year ago.
6. You always have something in your mouth... a toy, a sippy, a toe, your sleeve.
7. You are just starting to take a few steps. God help me if you walk faster than you crawl.
8. You know exactly what you want and exactly how to get it.
9. You are content to entertain yourself for what seems like hours on end.
10. You are just beginning to develop a love of books, particularly those involving Biscuit the dog.
11. You love your great-grandma to pieces.
12. You have mastered the downward dog pose and spend a great deal of time in position.
13. You have the most spectacular blue eyes.
14. You are fearless.
15. You have the cheesiest grin I've ever seen and can work your way out of anything by flashing that grin.
16. You light up when you see your mum or pa.
17. You are referred to as Jack, Jackie, Jackie P, JackJack, Bee, and Butterbean, but don't answer to any of them!

2009 County Fair

Make a Smilebox scrap pages

Here are a few pictures from the recent County Fair that we went to. Henry and I rode on a few rides, and if you look closely in the picture of us on the bumper cars, you will see grandma and great-grandma in the car directly behind us. Check out the look on great-grandma's face (she's right above Henry's head). bwahahaha! My mom (a professional driver, by the way) had NO idea how to operate the bumper cars. It was hilarious. She got them jammed in a corner and then spent the duration of the ride yelling, "WE NEED A TOW!" She is such a nut. :)

Papa and Jack had fun looking at the animals, and Henry ALWAYS loves animals, so he was just in heaven. A few days later Henry said, "Mum... I don't like those bumping cars..." hehehe.

Ah well, hopefully he'll forget that by next year!

Splish Splash!

My mom called today and asked if I wanted to bring the boys over after naps for a little time in the swimming pool. Henry lurrrrves him some water play time, and Jack is usually game for just about anything, so I told her we'd be there. Henry was so excited when he realized he was going in his "fwimmin' pool." hehehe.

Here are a few shots from he afternoon. First we have my pale little man sporting his new trunks:


And Grandma trying to stay dry (which, by the way, totally did not work!):

Henry's big thing was filling the bucket and dumping all of the water onto the grass. Good to know he's mastered the whole concept of "bailing" just in case we're ever at sea... heh. Jack's primary interest was pulling and eating grass. It was fantastic (note the sarcastic tone to my voice):

It's a good thing he's so stinkin' cute!

Being that their Grandma (or "Vwamma" as Henry puts it) is the coolest in the whole world, the boys also had the option of this fun little sprinkler. The only thing is that the pool was filled with warm water from the house, and the sprinkler got f-f-freezing cold water straight out of the hose. Henry felt the hose water once, and that was all it took... back in the pool he went. lol. Smart kid!

Here I am foolishly lured in by an innocent, "Mum! Watch me!":

And here we are clearly able to see that Great-Grandma is the smartest woman of the family, as she remained a good ten feet away from all of the action the whole time. :)

As always you can click on any of the pics to see them larger.

I have more stuff to blog, and will hopefully get it up soon! If I don't, feel free to badger me. Oh wait, some of you already do. (*cough*Chris*cough*) hehehehe.