Not complaining

Last night I wrote a post where I basically complained about everything. It felt kind of nice to write it down. Get it out, if that makes any sense. Although this morning, I'm glad I didn't post it. Not because you guys can't handle it, not because I didn't need to complain about petty nonsense last night, but mostly because this blog has become so depressing that I'm just thinking that it would have made it worse.

I'm trying. Trying to get it together. Trying to not be so pessimistic all the time. Trying to not be depressed. Trying to not be this complainy (yes, is word), whiney, pain in the ass that I have become lately.

It's not really working for me so well. But at least I'm working on it.

Instead of whining about things that really don't matter outside of my head, I thought I'd give positivity a try. See how it works for me today. No guarantees on tomorrow, but it's worth a shot today.

I love the 4th of July weekend. My husband won't be working for three whole days. (Truly, I am forgetting what the man looks like, he works so much these days.) We have BBQ's to go too, swimming to do and tons of great food to eat. I adore fireworks, now that Bailey has stopped being terrified of them.

I found the business cards I am going to get for BlogHer. They are cute and I loves them.

My excitement of BlogHer is starting to out way my fear of it.

Harrison is cute and fun and the best baby I could ever hope to have. Nine months, really is a fun, if not a bit exhausting age. Although his idea of morning being 5am, needs a bit of work.

Bailey is almost five and while it makes me sad, I see the big girl she is becoming and it's awesome. She's awesome. The funniest, most honest baby girl I could ever hope to have.

Morgan has decided that she likes clean clothes enough to help me with laundry. Have I told you she's my favorite today? She is. At least in this moment, when she's being so dam helpful. Seven is an awesome age.

I love the Internet. Well I love you guys. Yes there are haters, trolls and asshats. But real life has them too. But you guys keep me entertained on a daily basis and I adore each of you for it.

Oh one more thing, my friend, the lovely Anymommy, had a beautiful baby boy on Sunday. Nathaniel. He's big and squishy and absolutely adorable. He has red hair!!! Squee. Please go and congratulate her.

So, how'd I do? LOL. Don't need to answer that. Is okay.

Nine Months

Bubs,

This morning your sister Morgan came and woke me up at 7:36am. I was shocked that you had been so kind as to sleep in that long. No such luck buddy. Although your sister was kind enough to let me sleep, as she'd gone in and gotten you and given you a bottle and basically followed you around for an hour. Today she is my hero and I paid her accordingly.

Of course, I ignored the fact that she came to get me, because she was tired of you, but whatever. She's seven, so I'm just glad she was willing to play with you for an hour. She super-dup loves you. You and she were both alive and you hadn't managed to completely destroy the house, so that was a plus.

Darling boy of mine, you are very destructive. Your sisters were too, but in way different ways. Given 22 seconds, you will completely destroy a plant. You overturn the dogs food and water bowl if given any unsupervised second in the kitchen. You can take every book off of a shelf in less than a minute and I've yet to find a way to keep you out of the DVD's. Don't think you don't have toys, because you have dozens. You just seem to find them all extremely boring, save for two matchbox cars of Aidan's, that you crash into each other all the time. Oooommmm you say, as you crash them into each other. I assume this is boom crash, which is what Aidan says all the time. You also think Tupperware and plastic spoons are the best thing ever invented. And remotes, which I swear to god you must be baby Houdini, because no matter where we put them, you can find them and take the batteries out before I even know what you've got.

You are all boy. We have, in the last few weeks given you an official, Baby Transformer Name, which is Destructor. It fits. Perfectly.

You stand against the couch, pulling yourself up by your fat baby fingers, but haven't tried to walk at all. Thank freaking god, because I am not used to the crawling thing, which you've been doing for months, so walking is out of the question. Don't do it.

You have like a gazillion teeth, or nine, but who's counting? They all seem to have come in at once and sleeping has been an issue the past month. You will eat just about anything. Baby food is becoming lame, you prefer real food. But you aren't that picky, you just want it now. In fact, you wanted it three minutes ago. You also eat pretty much anything you find on the floor and I'd like to tell you this makes me sweep more, but it just doesn't. Son, you are the third kid. Enjoy the carpet fuzz. Sorry about that, but mama doesn't think it's a big deal anymore.

In the past month, you have found your voice. Meaning you screech all the time. Then you laugh at yourself, because you? Are the funniest guy you know. Then you look around to see where your cheering squad is, because you are used to having someone clap for you. I fear for your preschool teachers one day.

You have also started talking. We had this conversation this morning:

Me: Bubs what does a duck say? You: kak kak

Me: What does a doggie say: You: OOOFFFFFF (You screech this, most likely because our dog is extremely loud.)

Me: You're right. Yay you. But shhhhh baby, inside voice. You: chhhhhhhhhhh

Me: Exactly. Now, what does a moo cow say. You: ooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh

Me: Bubby can you say milk? You: ik

Me: Close enough. How about ball, can you say ball? You: ball. (This was your first word by the way, after dada.)

Me: Can you say more? You: *gives me the sign for more.*

Me: How about daddy, can you say daddy? You: dadadadadadadada *does a little happy dance*

Me: Yay. Where is daddy? You: bye bye. *waves at yourself*

Me: Silly baby. How about mama, can you say mama? You: dadadadada

And this, my son, is what we do every single day. I always throw in new words, just to see how you try to say it. You can say mama. You say it when you are hurt, sick, extremely tired and at 3am when you don't want dada. But when asked, you will never say mama to me. This is what I'd like you to work on for the next month. It's your tiny baby goal, okay?

Baby boy, you are an absolute joy. Know this forever, that no matter how bad my life may be for me in the moment, or how sad I might be, you light up my world. Every second of every day, I adore you.

Love, mama

Snippets

He crawls away from me, until he gets to the edge of the door which will lead him out of our kitchen and into the den. There he stops, turns around, looks at me and comes back to play with the Tupperware again. He hasn't found his baby wings yet. He hasn't realized that we are not one yet. I am still his person. At not yet eight months old, I am his world. He lights up when he sees me in the morning and cries when I walk out of the room without him.

This is the way it should be. Yes, he will get over his separation anxiety soon. Yes, he will one day leave the room I am in on purpose. But not yet. I will savor the time until then.

******************

Logan: Iss, I think we need to eat at home this week. He reaches for another hot wing from the container in the middle of the table.

Bailey: Daddy, we are eating and we are at home.

Logan: Did you coach her to say that?

Me: Nope, she got that one on her own. Babe, I'm doing the best I can. Dinner is still dinner, as long as we all eat together.

Logan: Pause. I never thought of it that way. So, okay, dinner at home, no restaurants this week. But I don't care where the food comes from. One week, lets just try it for one week, okay?

Me: That sounds like a plan.

******************

Morgan was as sick as a dog last week; food poisoning from some treat at the school. I've never seen her that sick in my life. Her long thin body, curled up on the bathroom floor in between retching. I sat with her, me and Harrison hanging with her on the floor until I finally decided to take her to Urgent care. I have been scared in my life; scared of many things. But nothing is scarier than watching your baby go as limp as a noodle from exhaustion and dehydration as you carry her too the car to take her to Urgent Care.

At 2am that next morning, she came into our room and said, mama I can't go to school today. I know bug, I do. But it's only 2am, I told her. Then I did something I rarely do, I pulled her into bed with us. She slept curled into me, nestled in between Logan and I for the rest of the night.

When I was in California, she slept with me two nights in a row. The two nights following my losing the baby. Those two nights, I felt guilty for, because she was there to comfort me. Now I know it works both ways. It's okay for her to be a comfort to me on occasion, just as it is for me to be that for her. That's what makes us family. Yes, she is seven years old, my first baby. But she is getting so big too. Big enough that we are starting to become friends in some way.

I want that, to be friends with my kids. Their mother first? Always. But friends too.

*******************

My Mom: So, Papa** and I are coming out mid-June. We're hoping to find a house to buy while we are there.

Me: Really? That soon?

Mom: Yeah. I've already started working on my book and he's pretty much finished with the practice. Jordan has a handle on it, he's been there for nearly two years. The practice runs itself these days. We're ready for the change. Ready for the new chapter in our lives.

Me: Mom, you know there is a house for sale down the block from us.

Mom: You'd want us to look at that? It wouldn't be too close?

Me: No, not at all. We'd love it.

Mom: Oh I'm so happy to hear that. Ok, well pull the phone number, so I can call on it, okay?

Me: I will call them for you.

Mom: You know it's funny, but so many people don't get to say that their grown daughter is one of their best friends.

Me: I know, that's just sad. God, I hope the girls and I are like that one day.

Mom: I know it will be like that for you.

**We call my step-dad, papa. Have since they got married when I was eight.

******************

Kate: Are you guys sending the girls to summer day camp?

Me: I don't know. Maybe? We go back and forth on it. Morgan wants too, but Bailey doesn't at all.

Kate: Yeah, Aidan doesn't want to either. If we send him, you know he'll fight me every single morning. It's almost not worth the trouble.

Me: Yeah, I know. I want the time with them, the freedom to sleep in. Ha. But the reality is, I don't know that I want to entertain them, or listen to them fight all day every day for the next 10 weeks.

Kate: Well what if we share the kids? Take turns on certain days? Split them up on certain days and then have a day a week where we all do something together? Then we can both say, have a day a week free and the rest will work itself out.

Me: That is awesome. I'm in for sure. Can I have Friday off?

Kate: I knew you'd ask me that.

Me: At least I'm consistent.

Kate: Um huh. Consistent, pain in the ass maybe.

*****************

I wake up late/early one night to the bed shaking. He's sobbing, all 6'4" curled up around a pillow, with his hand shoved in his mouth to be quiet. I comfort him and calm him down and then ask why he is so upset. I wanted that baby. I wanted that baby so bad that it hurts. I wanted you to never have to go through this again. I couldn't fix it and I wanted too. You needed time to grieve, I had to be the one to not fall apart.

Well now it's your turn I tell him. Babe, we will have another baby, I tell him.

I can't even tell you how much I wanted to have another baby, he says. That baby, our baby.

We will. That one wasn't meant to be. But there will be another try, another chance. If not through us, we'll adopt. We'll find our baby. The one that is meant to be in this family.

There will be another baby. I know it. I feel it. Not yet, I need time. But sooner than one might think, I'd bet.

*****************

It's a crazy life, it keeps me on my toes, but it's my life and I wouldn't give it up for anything.

Six months

Harrison,

Six months, in the span of a life time isn't really that long. You'll know this one day. Today however, you have been here for six months. And that, my tiny friend, is a lifetime; your life time. It's funny, but the memories of my life, of our families life before you, don't seem quite real. I mean, I remember them (I may be crazy, but I'm not senile), but it seems unreal that I lived this long without you in my life. Six months and I can't imagine life without you.

You've done a lot in the last six months: you've learned to sit up, eat with a spoon, to roll around, to bat your eyes at me when you want something. You babble all day long. I fear that when you start talking, you will out talk your sisters, which is going to be a hard feat. You sing, which is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard in my life.

I'll tell you a secret, you sleep. Don't tell anyone, because a sleeping infant is not something to brag about, but you have slept through the night since you were about six weeks old. I'd feel slightly bad about this, except your sister Bailey didn't sleep for the first, oh two years of her life. So I feel even. Like somehow you sleeping is a gift that the greater forces of the world gave me. Between you and me, I'm glad you love to sleep. I'm getting a bit old for the non-sleeping gig.

Last week during an unfortunate incident with sweet potatoes (dude, I'm sorry, truly), you cried and cried and cried. I realized something that day; it had been weeks since I'd heard you cry. Weeks, seriously. You are not a crier. You get fussy when you are tired or hungry, but you don't really cry. It broke my heart to listen to you that day. Even when you rolled under the dog yesterday and she stepped on your hand and you cried for a second, it hurt me. Although, dude, you did roll right under her. Note to you, when you are three and having a fit, it won't break my heart when you cry. But right now, it still does.

You are fascinated by music of any kind. You think the coolest thing in the world is the firetrucks that pass the house. You adore your sisters; you light up when they enter the world. You think the dog is awesome, you love it when she licks your face. You believe your daddy is the greatest toy in the entire world. But I am still your favorite.

Son, you light up my life. I can't imagine how you could be any more awesome than you are. One thing though? The backwards crawling thing you keep trying to do? I've told you a dozen times at least that crawling is not for tiny six month old babies. It's a house rule. Crawling is not to be attempted until eight months at least. You are too tiny to your mom and you would be good to remember the crawling rule. Because I'm about to start docking your future allowance if you keep breaking this rule. Don't laugh at me, I will do it, I will. Stop batting those big brown eyes at me, it's not going to work.

Ok, fine. Crawl. Whatever. Happy six months.

Love you, mama

Not the mother I thought I'd be....

Eight years ago, Logan and I decided to stop using birth control and see what happened. We had grand ideas about being parents. We'd been married two years, we were both on our second to last year of college, we owned a condo and we were ready. Ready to be parents. Ready to change our lives forever and make a family. Really if you think about it, or well, if we think about it, it was an excuse to have lots of unprotected sex. Lots.

More than that though, I always knew I wanted to be a mother. From a very young age, I knew I wanted kids. We argued about how many we'd have, but we both knew we wanted kids.

I'm not exactly sure we thought it would happen so soon; the getting pregnant part. They say a year at the very least when you've been on the pill for a while. "They" are morons, whoever they are. I was pregnant within a month.

We planned and organized as we got ready for our baby. Our baby girl who we were so thrilled to be pregnant with. We painted our second bedroom, bought little onesies and sockies, baby proofed our entire condo and went through a name book, name by name. We dreamed big dreams. For her and for us. For our family, the little family we were creating. Huge dreams about what she'd be like. I don't think this is so out there, I bet there are tons of first time mothers who dream about what their children will be like. We hope for the best and pray for the amazing. We envision perfect lives for them. Lives without fear, hatred, uncertainty or loss. Lives that are full of sunshine and flowers.

I had an idea about what kind of a mom I'd be. That, I'd be spontaneous, fun and never impatient. I didn't believe being a parent would be all sunshine and roses, but I had a bit of a skewed idea of motherhood. I wouldn't be big on bedtimes, schedules could be made up as we went along and I'd never force my kid to eat when they didn't want too. If the food of choice was hot dogs, I'd go with it. The things Logan and I would do with said child, danced in my head. We wanted to travel the world, take our baby with us. Travel the US, see everything and anything. Just get in the car and go. I had great plans for the way my child would be, as well.

Then I was handed this teeny baby. And she was teeny, having been born a month early. She was also nothing like what we'd imagined. Not at all. Don't get me wrong, she was ours and she was perfect in our eyes. Our beautiful baby girl. God we adored her from the second she came into the world.

She was also great birth control, for tons of other people. Morgan is the kid that makes people go, maybe we'll start with a fish. She was a screamer, from pretty much birth on. She had colic so bad that we literally had to massage her stomach after every time she ate. She wouldn't breast feed, so I gave up within a week. It was okay, because I was open to whatever, but also because I needed to be able to give her to other people to feed. She had to be held at all times, non-stop. But only a certain way, which changed often. She wanted her way, all the time, from a very young age. She was a good sleeper at night, I will give her that. She started sleeping though the night at six weeks. She wasn't a good napper. She was not an easy baby, nor an easy toddler. In fact, nothing about her was or is easy.

My grandiose plans went right out the window. Our ideas of traveling the world with her as a baby, were dashed by the second day of her life. Morgan, even now at, seven and a half years old, is a child that needs a strict schedule. Bedtimes are a must, meals need to be at the same times, changes from the schedule must be explained over and over, for it to go off okay. Even then, it doesn't always work out for her. She has trouble with transitions, change, deviations from the way she knows it to be. Or wants it to be. We talk about what will happen in her day tomorrow at dinner every night. Over the past few years it has shrunk to: this is the basic plan type of a thing. It used to include great detail: you will wake up, you will eat breakfast, you will get dressed; a full timeline of her day. It wasn't for us, it was for her. We did it because she needed it.

This is just how my daughter is. It's a part of her, a part of her that frustrates me to no end some days. I also love it about her. She has changed my views of the world. She has shaped the mother I became. If Bailey had been born first, or even Harrison; I'd be a different mother than I am today. I might be that mother that I thought I'd become. The care free mom.

I am not that mother. I am not the mother I thought I'd be. I am a better mother than I would have been. I know this to be true. I have the rest of my life to travel the world, to see the sites, to live moment to moment. I may not be the mother that I wanted to be. However, I am the mother they need me to be. A mother with rules, who enforces bedtimes, a mother who makes them read half an hour out loud a night, one who makes them eat vegetables and brush their teeth. I don't make up elaborate art projects, nor do I cook from scratch. But I've found people who will do that stuff with them. I am not as patient as I thought I'd be....but I'm more patient than my mom was with us, so that's an improvement.

I can be spontaneous; the fun mom, who can let rules go for a night. I can run around and play at the park with them, pretending to be a fairy princess; build complex mazes out of pillows on my floor, to avoid the hot lava monster. I can let them go wild in a candy store every now and again. But the next day, I become mom again. Their mom. Morgan, Bailey and Harrison's mom.

I may not be the mom I thought I'd be, but I'd not give up the mom I am to them in a heart beat. It's the thing I'm most proud of in this world.

It had to happen eventually, I mean I am a mommy blogger

Poop. Lots and lots of poop. I don't normally discuss poop, at least not on the Internet. Not because I couldn't, but because there are so many other things for me to discuss. Like trips to the ER, with four year olds, who go in with a 105 fever and come out with Pneumonia again. Or my obsession with one sappy country song, that I haven't managed to buy yet, so I have the guys MySpace page open and I just keep listening to it over and over again.

Today though, I need to ask a question about poop. I've never quiet had to deal with so much at the one time. Boy poop? Is much worse than girl poop.

So here's my question: Have any of you ever, after you've trashed a set of sheets, a blankie, an outfit and a teeny bear, after a poop explosion, ever looked at your baby, the baby you cherish and would move the moon for, and wonder if you might could trash him and get a new one? A clean, non-pooping one? Just for a second?

You know, for a baby, he's not really so bad.....

My lovely son, these words were said to me last night by your older sister Bailey. I'm going to write this down for you, so you'll always remember. Because you may never have a real baby book, but you'll have these little things that I've written down on this blog. Dude, don't worry, I have a baby book, it's not all that interesting anyway.

One day, in February 2009, your sis said something semi-nice in your direction. Please remember it, because I doubt it will ever happen again. She loves you, she really does, she's just not that overly fond of you. Hopefully that will go away one day, but I can't promise anything.

No worries though, the rest of us adore you.

Co-Sleeping. Who me? No, never.

Yeah, that's what I said. It worked out too, because we never once let the girls sleep with us. Never. You think I'm kidding, I'm sure. Oh what about when they are sick, you're thinking. Nope. When they are sick, they sleep in their own beds. If they are scared or very, very sick, they sleep on our floor in a sleeping bag. What? I need my space at night. This is what I always said and I went with it. My girls slept in their cribs from night one.

I've never judged co-sleepers, I'd just never understood it.

Then Harrison was born. I can't tell you how it started exactly, because it wasn't the plan. He does have a very lovely crib in his room. The first night we brought him home, it was kinda cold outside and the wind was coming through the windows, making his room a big chilly. So we brought him to sleep with us. That's pretty much the best I can come up with. He's not spent a single night in his crib. Not one single night. He naps in there though. When he naps that is, as he's not really big on daytime naps. he prefers cat naps. Which in reality is okay, since he sleeps about eleven hours at night. I know, I know. Don't ask me how I managed to do this, because I didn't. I've not put that out there before, for fear of him suddenly not sleeping so long at night. He's been doing it since he was about ten weeks old, except for last week when he was sick and Monday night when he woke up twice for no reason. He doesn't move much, he just sleeps in between us, happy as a clam. Are clams happy? I've never understood that statement, but whatever. He just lightly snores and that is actually a really comforting sound. He's a perfect angel bed buddy.

But we're thinking it's time for him to sleep in the crib, before he gets old enough to fight us about it forever. I don't want a toddler sleeping with me. An infant is one thing, but a moving baby and toddler is another. Also, we've made the decision to go to Hawaii alone, as a couple. To you know, get naked and make more babies....or something like that. So, we have to get him to sleep by himself, in a crib, or my mother will shoot me and then I'll be dead. Which really, I'm not that into. I rather like life.

Tonight is the night. I'm hoping I just put him in his crib and he falls asleep and he stays asleep all night. No idea on the chances of that, but hey, he's pretty freaking easy so far, so it might just work. If not, I have no ideas on how to stop this trend we started. Because I never had this problem before. Any ideas would be welcome. Wish me luck though, because I think I'm going to need it.

Not sure when it happened

Last night, at say two thirty-four ish am (tentatively) Logan and I found ourselves with three sleeping kids, on the bathroom floor. Croup. Oh it's such a lovely sound. I knew they all had coughs, I'd been listening to it all day, but I didn't know how bad it was. At 1am, I found out. Bailey and I spent about 45 minutes on the bathroom floor with the shower on at full blast. Then the baby started the seal cough and Logan brought him in the bathroom with us. After another half hour Morgan woke up, came to find us, saw us all on the floor and went and got her blanket and pillow and came in and laid down in between us. All of this without a word. It was almost like she thought it was a slumber party and she was somehow missing out on it. Withing minutes she was asleep. Bailey was asleep in Logan's arms and Harrison fitfully sleeping in mine. Everyonce in awhile, they'd all start coughing. It was like being in a TB ward or something.

We sat there watching them sleep, listening to them cough for a while without talking. At some point, Logan asked me when it happened? When did what happen, I asked? When did we become the adults?

You know, I just don't know. I'm not sure when exactly it happened. When Morgan was a toddler and got sick in the middle of the night, I'd still look around for who this mommy of hers was. Why was she looking at me when she said it. I'm not sure when it happened, but I no longer look for her real mommy anymore. I am a grown-up. Logan and I are grown-ups. We have three children, a dog, a mortgage and car payments. In a month, we will have been married for ten years. We save for retirement and our kids colleges. We pay our bills on time and we get our carpets cleaned every now and again. We drink more coffee than alcohol and we enjoy going to bed at a reasonable hour. At some point, we became adults. We're just not sure when exactly.

I'll tell you a little secret though. I don't mind this life. The life of an adult with a family. In fact, I rather enjoy it.

My best of 2008

I am not a big fan of New Years. I never really have been. One year I went to a rockin party and had an absolute blast. That was my favorite New Years ever!

I was eight years old though.

Truly, I'm not a fan of going out with the crazies, getting sloshed or the oh so lovely: see how many women are sobbing in the bathroom because they have no one to kiss at midnight.

The thing I like least about New Years is the resolutions. The lists that people make of things they intend to be better about in the New Year. The reason I despise this practice is simple: People never stick to their resolutions and then about mid-February everyone feels bad about themselves and gives up. Basically making resolutions is just another excuse for us all to fell bad about ourselves. I am good enough at feeling guilty, I don't need to make a resolution to do so in a month or two.

Instead, I'm going to make my best of 2008 list. My favorite post, one (or three, whatever) for each month I've been blogging.

ISSA'S Favorites of 2008:

July: Things not to say to a pregnant woman. That's a decaf latte, right? Actually bitch it's not. I just heard this in Starbucks. Literally half an hour ago. Like it's any ones business. Today I decided that I can't do decaf anymore. I'm just not sleeping and I needs me some caffeine. So real coffee here I am, I've missed you.

August: The cracked ceiling. My babies are six and a half and four years old. One wants to be a Supreme Court Judge and the other a Transformer. Funny, yes, but dream big is what I tell them.

Last night Hillary Clinton made history; she changed history for the better and I thank her for it. I want a better world for my children, a world that is safe and free, a world where there is no limit to what they can be.

September: Happy birthday Babe. On this day, every year, for as long as we've been together, I send my mother in law a gift. I call her and thank her for giving me the greatest gift in the world, for giving me her son. Because she raised one of the best men I know and she deserves to be told what an amazing job she did.

Small Harrison update. And plus, I had to stare at my son. My son, so strange to say, but so awesome.

October: Harrison Thomas. Harrison Thomas was born at 8:08pm, September 25th, 2008. He weighed 8 pounds, 6.4 ounces, was 20 inches long.

November: Ha, November was a good month for me, so I had to pick three.

We were playing doctor, really we were. What you didn't think I'd post all sweet and sappy ones did you?

Bittersweet Victory. Today is a happy day for the US. I am happy, I truly am. But there's a bitterness there too. An angry piece of me, that has no outlet. I just want to shake the world right now and say, these two belong together, how can you not see that?

Long lost parenting tips. I did the only thing I could think of, I pulled her into the bathroom and made her open her mouth and I shoved a small stick of soap in there.

December:

For my favorite posts of this month, I'm going to pick two of mine and one of someone else's. One of mine is from this month and one from August I believe. They are both about ADHD and how it affects our family. I think more people need to see the face of ADHD. To know the realities and see the truth behind some of the behaviors.

Instamom wrote a beautiful post (and oh how I love her for it) the other day about her son, Aaron: Removing the stigma.

"Because he is exceptional. And perhaps his ADHD makes him more so. He is incredibly creative, always coming up with inventions or plans to make life easier. He will sit and read for hours at a time. His writing and vocabulary blow me out of the water. I sometimes struggle to follow his thought processes, but I know now that it's not because they are wrong, but because they are different."

I have this feeling that Aaron and Morgan would get along really well.

Reality. The reality is that the world sees my child as a pain in the ass. Not all people, not people who know her, not even people who have been around a child with ADHD and know the signs. But to the majority of people.


Medicate or not, this is the question You know that saying, when she's good she's very, very good? Well that was Morgan. On her good moments, she was a doll; sweet, caring, loving and creative. On her bad moments, the Tasmanian devil on crack. Trouble was, we never knew what we were going to get. Unpredictable to the core. You could look at her wrong and she'd melt into a puddle of tears; tell her to put her shoe on and she'd throw a two hour tantrum; she was out of control. This was the first time we considered medicating her.


This month has been a hard month for me. I lost my grandmother, which only made me realize that I've not really grieved for my grandfather. The reality of these losses is just beginning to sink in. 2008 has been a long year. There have been great things, the most notable in my family being Harrison. I can not even begin to tell you how thankful I am for this little boy. My little boy. I could say it all day, every day, but it wouldn't be enough. I adore every single piece of his rolly polly little self.

But there's been a lot of grief as well. This year we lost three people in our family, my grandparents and Logan's grandma. We also have family that is struggling to make it. One with liver cancer, one with breast cancer and one with a bum heart. We're trying to think positively, but there may be some losses next year as well.

One of the things that I am thankful for the most for this year, is all of you. You have supported me and helped me, more than you could ever know. I appreciate each and every one of you.

I hope you all have a great New Years Eve. I'll talk to you next year.

Dear airport bitch,

Remember me? I was the one singing Van Morrison (quietly I might add) to my newborn son in the airport on Sunday. You must remember me. I was the one you were looking at like I was insane. Oh you remember now. Yeah that figures. You said to your friend/relative and I quote "That's not appropriate to sing to a baby." Really? Because lullabies are so f'ing great? Let's ignore your rudeness and bitchiness for just a second and talk about lullabies. The oh so appropriate lullabies people should, in your mind, be singing to their newborns.

Bah Bah Black Sheep....lets just sing about stealing from an innocent sheep. Plus, this is 2008. I live in a major metropolitan city. Sheep are something my son is likely to see three times in his childhood and always in a zoo. I doubt any of them will be black sheep. Plus, my son has no master and the boy in the song gets no wool. Why in the hell would I want to sing my son this screwed up song?

Ring around the rosie: Pocket full of posies, ashes ashes we all fall down. Oh yes, lets sing about the freaking plague. This is what I want Harrison to know about. Sweet dreams son.

Rock-a-bye Baby: Do we even need to discuss the baby in a tree song? Baby in a tree? Falling down, baby and all? Why don't we just call CPS and get it over with?

Babies don't care what we sing to them. They don't care if our voice creaks. They don't care if we make up words. Do you know that my daughter Morgan sings to Harrison all the time and he coos at her? When he's cranky and I'm trying to finish dinner or something, I send her to sing too him. She sings whatever song she has stuck in her head, the ABC's, or some silly made up song about Mama eating his cheeks. Last night she was singing her multiplication table to him. He just loved it. He could care less what it is, he just loves the way we sing to him.

Van Morrison, Days Like This? Is hands down a better song for my son to hear. I'd rather sing him anything besides kid music. You know why? Because my kids don't own that crap. They have never in their life owned a Raffi CD, or the Wiggles or even a Barney-Dora-Issa is poking her eyes out type of CD. Everyone who knows me, knows not to buy this stuff for my kids. I won't give it too them. I'd rather them sing the songs on the radio. I love that they know which Satellite radio station they want to listen too each time we get in the car. I'm rather proud of the variety of music my girls like. They request songs by artist and title. You haven't really lived until you've witnessed Bailey singing and dancing to Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's. You should watch my kids when Pink's, So What, comes on in the car. They go nuts, they love it. They are not being harmed in any way by not having a Raffi CD.

There are so many things I could say too you. So many horribly mean things I could put out for the world to know about you. I am very observant. I've thought about it for three long days. However, I'm a nicer person than you. I may judge people I see, but it's always in my own head. I don't judge people out loud in a crowed airport for the whole world to hear. If this had happened last year, I'd have likely snapped your head off and fed it to a shark. Just count yourself warned. Not everyone would have continued singing to their son and then walked away.

My son, is not being harmed by me singing whatever song I have in my head too him as a lullaby. In fact, I think he is perfectly content with anything I sing to him.

So eat that, Biotch in the airport.

Hugs and stuff,
Issa

The best of the best...

Rebecca, also known as Girls Gone Child, posted over at Babble yesterday (still following me?), titled: Money Shots. She described it as this:

"For those of us fond of snapping photos of our spawn, there is nothing more exciting/rewarding/feel-goody than capturing THE photo. You know what I'm talking about: the hard-to-come-by money shot."

The photos she posted are fabulous. The comments have all been more great shots of beautiful babies and kids. I thought I'd post a few of mine. Some of these are older, some brand new. All capture my kids, the way they truly are. As a little old woman, these photos, more than any professional shot I've had taken of them, will remind me of my children as small kids. It will remind me of that moment, each moment, where I caught them off guard, where I managed to show the real them on film.

Both of the girls have always been hard to photograph, although for different reasons. Morgan has been a poser since birth and Bailey has been a photo avoider since birth. But here are my money shots. Might not be great shots to anyone else, but too me, they are priceless.

This one is Morgan, she was two and a half. I was pregnant, maybe seven months, with Bailey. She was looking at giraffes at the zoo.


These two were taken off of a role that the photo lab ruined. I saved them anyway, because it's not like you can get back your child's first week of life. They've become some of my favorite shots of Bailey.



This is the very first photo of my babies girls together. Bay was maybe 11 hours old. Morgan was still convinced a little brother was going to appear out of nowhere any second.


Bailey at about two and a half months old. Funny, but Harrison looks so much like her in this picture. Except she had almost no hair. What little hair she did have was super blond. But the eyes, oy ve those eyes kill me.


I think these next two were taken the same week. Spring, 2006.



This one was on vacation that same summer. This my friends is EXACTLY what Morgan looked like at four years old. All attitude, all the time. Please notice the chopped up hair. I think this was the second time she did it and sadly the third and last time was way worse. In the undershirt she HAD to wear, just like her daddy. Her little belly all sticking out. She did that on purpose for years, we though it was the cutest thing. Then one day, she stopped.


Taken on a school field trip, early Fall, 2007. This was the first day I'd been out of the house, out of bed in about two months. I only went because she begged me too. That day, I changed. I decided to be better. To try harder. For her. To me, this is the most beautiful picture in the world.


These you have seen. I took the one of the girls a couple of weeks before Harrison was born. And my boy. These are my money shots of him. I look in his eyes and I see the world. I see the future, possibility, my heart.


Anyone want to join me? Let me know if you do and I'll like to you on this post. I'm all about adorable photos of kids.

100 things

I have about five posts swimming around in my head right now: a post about being thankful; a post about my tiny boy being two months old; a post about my love of pie and a post about how I nearly killed a Best Buy employee today. None of which will probably get written. The problem is time. This is Thanksgiving weekend people. I have a houseful of people. My house is full of laughter, games, Wii competitiveness, shrieking little girls and food. Loads of food. We are a bit overstocked on food. We made an extra turkey, because my husband won one. It's Friday though and I'm already tired of turkey. Next weekend my baby girl is going to be seven years old and I've only half planned her party. We won't even discuss Christmas, because I'm likely to cry if I think of how much I have to do.

Moving on...

I used to have a blog before this blog. A lot of you knew me then, some of you didn't. Maybe you know that I used to blog and maybe you don't. For those who had no idea, I blogged for about a year and a half. Then I disappeared for about eighteen months and now I'm at my 100th post. Again. I sort of wish I'd saved that post, but I didn't keep much. Mostly the things I kept were letters written to my girls.

I know it's tradition to write 100 things about yourself for your 100th post. Everyone does it, it's the new black or whatever. But I'm not sure I can come up with 100 choice items about myself. Unless I start talking about my love of sour jelly beans, which I doubt you want to hear about.

Basically I'm going to be a thief. Insta-Mom stole an idea from AnyMommy. The 10 x 10 post; 10 lists of 10 things. Really it's a great idea. I'm glad I read these lovely women, so I can steal all of their great ideas. So, here I go....10x10, 100 things about me.

10 things I am grateful for this Thanksgiving:
1. My son. I knew I'd love him as much as his sisters, I learned this the second time around. I knew he'd change our family forever in amazing ways. But I didn't know that I'd adore him as much as I do. That I'd want to stay home with him. For him.
2. My girls. They are amazing and creative and the sweetest little people.
3. My husband.
4. My family being able to come together and have a great time.
5. A drama free Thanksgiving.
6. That we had a table full of tasty ass food.
7. Our new president.
8. That we didn't have a blizzard this weekend, which would have made it hard for people to get here. (Of course I started writing this about four hours ago. We now have at least 6 inches already.)
9. My warm toasty house and my warm toasty sheets on my bed. (did I mention the snow?)
10. For all of you. For those of you who comment, those of you who don't and those of you who I consider true friends.

10 things about my children:
1. Harrison is a talker. He talks to us all day long. He also smiles and giggles. I've enclosed proof at the bottom of this post.
2. Harrison is in 3-6 month clothes already. There is a poll on how much he weighs. My guess is 14 pounds, 2 ounces. He is only two months and is heavier than either of the girls were at six months. He's a chunky Buddha baby.
3. Morgan steals my cell phone, goes in the closet and calls family. Just to talk.
4. She too is a talker. If she'd ask, I'd gladly give it to her to do this. But I find it funny that she steals it, calls and then returns it. I hear about it later.
5. Morgan loves complete darkness when she sleeps. Bailey loves three night lights when she sleeps.
6. They share a room.
7. Morgan's bed has sheets around it, like a tent in the jungle.
8. Bailey is the best Wii bowler in this house. That is sad, considering she is only four.
9. All three of my kids are the loves of my life.
10. Although all three of them seriously could be replaced with those sleeping in kids that you hear about and I'd be thrilled.

10 things you might not have known about me:
1. I have Strabismis, which is lazy eye, in both eyes. The docs are not sure why my eyes focus together at all. Right now, because I am so tired, I am only using the left one. I cannot wear contacts, they make me want to gouge my eyes out with chopsticks or sporks.
2. I hate shoes and socks, but I love to buy both shoes and socks.
3. I am a speed reader. Which is good, considering my attention span these days, is 2.5 posts.
4. I say I am a horrible cook, but I'm really not. I can follow any direction. My thing though, is I want to be able to cook by memory and just throw ingredients in. That too me is a true cook.
5. I am named after two great-grandmas.
6. I have a love of names. I would love to write a book about names. If I cold figure out how to do it, I'd come up with a way to name babies for people. Some people seriously could use help with this.
7. I love to people watch and make up stories about the people I see.
8. I spend hours of my day trying to eat the cheeks of my babies.
9. I am scared to fly, although I will do it. But I'd rather drive two days, with my children, than get on a plane.
10. I cheat at Monopoly, but I've never cheated on anything else in my life.

My 10, all time favorite movies: (These are not in order. I'd be hard pressed to do that.)
1. Mary Poppins
2. While You Were Sleeping
3. The Grinch (Not the Jim Carey one.)
4. Willy Wonka
5. Beetle Juice
6. Michael
7. Indian Summer
8. Ocean's Eleven
9. 13 Going on 30
10. Empire Records

10 things that occupy my time, besides my chillins and my man:
1. Um hai, blogging
2. Twitter
3. Checking my email
4. Chatting with Kim
5. Reading
6. Photographing my children
7. Sudoku
8. Watching NCIS
9. Going through, sorting, scanning old photos
10. Trying to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life

10 things that made me fall for said man:
1. His smile
2. His ass (he made me say that)
3. His love and sweetness with his baby sister
4. The way he could crack the whole room up with a well timed joke
5. The fact that he thought before he spoke, so he was generally very thoughtful
6. His kindness and giving nature
7. The care and time he spent on his mother, grandmother and family
8. The fact that I could beat him at air hockey
9. That he was better than me at everything except air hockey and surfing
10. That he never cared that I was better than him at air hockey and surfing

10 places I want to see/do before I die:
1. Sydney, Australia
2. Walk the Golden Gate Bridge
3. Spend two weeks on a house boat in Lake Mead
4. Spend a month in a Tuscan Villa
5. Go to Greece with my mom
6. Spend a month on an island with just my husband
7. Go to the Summer Olympics
8. China
9. Ski in Switzerland
10. Find out where my dad's family was from in Poland and travel there.

The 10 songs that I am currently playing over and over again:
1. Days Like This by Van Morrison
2. Have a Little Faith in Me by John Hiatt
3. Where I'm From by John Michael Carroll
4. Lost by Michael Buble
5. Already Gone by Sugarland
6. It Won't be Like This For Long by Darius Rucker
7. Roll With Me by Montgomery Gentry
8. Piano Man by Billy Joel
9. Stay Down by Mary J. Blige
10. Here by Derek Sholl

My 10 favorite books off all time:
1. A Wrinkle in Time
2. All Harry Potter books
3. Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood
4. Fried Green Tomatoes
5. In the Time of the Butterflies
6. Their Eyes Were Watching God
7. Twelfth Night
8. To Kill a Mockingbird
9. The Lorax
10. The Giver

10 ways that I am probably a parenting oxymoron:
1. All three of my children were (are) only bottle fed. But I find breastfeeding to be a beautiful thing.
2. I swore no child of mine would ever sleep in my bed. Neither of the girls ever did. Harrison has since day one.
3. In LA I was prepared (and was) to spend a butt load of money on a fabulous private school. I thought it was so important. Here, my girls go to the "Hippie" public choice school. The programs? Not so different really.
4. I buy organic meat, dairy and veggies. But we have Oreo's, Cheetos and Fruit Roll-Ups in the panrty and my kids know the menu at way too many restaurants.
5. I want the kids to understand the meaning behind Christmas. We donate time, money and food. We pick kids off the Target tree and shop for them; we give to homeless people and we give our old clothes. However, there will be a ton of gifts for the kids.
6. I encourage them believing in the tooth fairy, magic and Santa Clause; but Santa only brings one or two small gifts. Mostly because I don't want that fat man too take away my glory.
7. I think education is a key. I am saving for college for each of my kids. But I went to college and I know the skills I've used in my career did not come from my education. They came from the college of life. If my kids choose not to go to college, I will support them in this choice. They will have to support themselves...but I'll be okay with their choice.
8. We use homeopathy, relaxation techniques and therapy with Morgan for her ADHD. I will medicate her, when and if it seems like the right thing too do, without a second thought.
9. I won't buy toys very often. In a bookstore, all bets are off. We have bookshelves throughout this house. They know I'm a sucker when it comes to books.
10. We limit sugar, TV, Wii time and encourage playing outside and sports. When they are being pains though, I hand them some candy and send them to watch some TV.

But hey, I think they'll be okay anyway.

See, my baby smiles: Harrison Thomas, two months and a couple of days old.


I hope you guys had a great Thanksgiving.

And the winner is....

My baby boy is two months old today. I can't tell you how amazing that is too say. Let me say it again, my son is two month old. My son. If you'd told me a year ago, that this is where I'd be today, holding my serious little baby boy while writing this post, I'd have laughed at you and asked you to pass over, whatever it was you were smoking. A year ago, I was a different person. Not in every way, but I was. I was miserable and sad and nuts and a pretty big downer. I never would have thought that I'd get another chance at having a baby.

Today, I'm different. My husband is different, my daughters are different. This boy, he's changed our lives for the better. He brought me hope again. He has helped my heart to grow back to almost the size it was before. Heck, he may have made it bigger than it was before. He is an absolute joy.

I have a long post for and about him. Unfortunately, it's in my head. I'm having trouble writing this week. (Literally it's taken me almost two hours to write this post.) Mostly due to the details that are swarming around in my head as well. You know, the multiple trips to the airport I get to make, the grocery lists, the piles of laundry that need to be done and the holy crap, why did I think this was going to work out, types of thoughts.

So, here's what I'm going to do: I'm going to announce the winner of the photo contest and then wish you all a happy Thanksgiving. If I get the chance to think, I'll post, but if not, I'll be back next week.

And the winner is: "I am SO telling my therapist about this when I can talk", which the lovely PsychMamma submitted. Truly it was a hard choice. I cracked up at all of the captions. You all are very funny.

Can't you just see him thinking that, with his little wrikled brow? He does smile, I promise. He laughs and grins and gives baby kisses. But he's a bit camera shy, so I get a lot of this:


I hope you all have a great Thanksgiving. Enjoy your family, friends and time off work.

Love, Issa, Logan, Morgan, Bailey and Harrison

Can I tell you a few secrets?

You don't mind, do you? Yeah, I didn't think so.

1. I adore the holidays. Some people tolerate them, some just like them, some people despise them. Me I adore them. Thanksgiving, Christmas and everything in between. The music, the food, the baking, buying gifts. Hell, I even love to wrap gifts. I love to decorate the house and I love having a house full of people, which I will in a few days. The details, the small things that drive people crazy about having a house full of people? I thrive on that type of chaos. Basically, I'm certifiably insane.

2. I'm thinking about staying home this time around. You know, with Harrison. By this time with both of the girls, they were in daycare. I was getting up every morning, getting dressed in real clothes, without spit-up or coffee stains on them and going to my big office in the sky. I dropped them off at 9am and Logan picked them up at 4pm. I loved that life. I loved the free-ness it gave me; the money I made and the security I felt. But when I look at this tiny boy of mine, I can't imagine putting him in daycare. Now too be fair, if I make this decision (which I don't technically have to make until the end of January), he won't go too daycare. He'll go to my best friends house and chill with her all day. Still, I don't think I want to do that. I think I want to stay home with him; be home with my girls; never have to scramble to find someone to take them on days off school, nor put them in summer camp when school is over. Don't tell anyone though, okay?

3. Logan and I have already started talking about having another baby next year. We're not quite to that point yet. But we have pretty much decided that in about six months or so, we're going to try again. We don't want there too be four years between Harrison and a baby. I am not getting any younger and if we want any more, we need to get on that sooner than later. Plus, we kinda like little babies. We'd forgotten how much we like little babies.

So, that's all I've got. This week will be short around here, because of the craziness that will start at my house Wednesday morning. There is still time left to enter the name the photo contest below. If you haven't looked at the comments, you really should, they are all freaking funny. You have until tonight to enter; I'll announce the winner tomorrow.

Contest: This picture needs a caption

Wanna take a stab at it? I thought I'd have a little contest. Winner of the best caption, gets bragging rights; oh okay....and a $15 iTunes gift card. Now if you win, you'll have to be willing to send me your email address. But I swear I will put the card in the mail on Tuesday...Wednesday at the latest. Plus, I'm not a crazy eye eating stalker. Crazy, yes. Eye eating stalker, no. Swears.

Contest is open until Monday at 7pm mountain time. Which is, whatever time it is your time. That is for you to figure out.

Trick or treat, you decide...

For the first time since the girls were old enough to go trick or treating, it was a really pleasant experience tonight. They have finally gotten to the ages where it's not just a big ole pain to get them ready to go out. They ate real food, with no arguments. One time of Logan telling them no candy until we got home and they stopped asking. I didn't have to remind them to thank people; neither of them had any problem waiting for each other and best of all, both of them are too old to be carried. Sure, my little witch (don't ask...it was her costume last year) on a unicorn, ditched her trusty unicorn, halfway though our route. But she's four and four year olds get really tiredy when carrying around all that dang candy. Plus we had the stroller with us and I was carrying the baby, so we had room for extra stuff. And unicorns...not really a light costume idea.

It was pleasantly warm. Our neighborhood is full of kids and tons of families had decorated their houses. Heck, there was even a family having a party, who gave all the kids a Sunny D and offered all the adults a beer. When we came home, the girls and our friends kids spent a bit of time exchanging candy, then we turned on The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown and they all fell asleep.

All in all, a great Halloween.

Earlier today, I saw a photo contest going on, over at Parent Bloggers. I don't generally join in on their things, but come on, it's a photo contest, where the prizes are Blurb books, which is something I've always wanted to do. So, anyway, here are my entries:

The first one, I'm putting in the best photo contest, because honestly this might be one of my very favorite pictures of Bailey. Like Ever. She's hard to photograph, she acts like we're stealing her soul or something...and this picture, shows my true baby girl.


The second is for cutest costume, age 3 and up. Calling Dr. Morgan. Can't you just see her as a future surgeon?


The last one is for cutest costume, age two and under. Wanna treat? He's kinda sweet. We answered the door a few times with him in the bowl. One lady was like, oh I'd take him. Sorry lady, take your Snickers, this baby is all mine!


How was your Halloween?

One month...

(I'z lookin at U. U se me?)

One month, plus two days if you want to get all technical. Either way, my tiny boy is one month old. One month and he's completely changed our lives. Funny how a month can change a family forever.

My tiny boy, my little love, bub, my snorky-snort boy. Harrison has about a zillion names right now. I think this is what happens in the beginning of a life, until you feel like you know that person enough that a nickname seems to stick. Doesn't really matter, I guess.

I'm having trouble writing this post. I've tried to do it several ways and nothing seems to feel right. I don't feel like I'm doing it enough justice, that I'm sharing with you the wonderfulness that is my son. I don't feel like I'm eloquent enough, to explain the impact he has made on our lives. The joy he has brought to my entire family. I guess in the end, I need to not worry about it. I have the rest of my life to try and explain it. I'll just try and tell you how he's doing and we'll see where it goes. Deal?

Harrison is 10 pounds and 2 ounces as of last Thursday. He's kind of a chunker. But not fat (no really, I have a cousin whose son is three weeks older and he's over 15 pounds. My aunt says you could just roll that baby down the hall), just kinda rolly. He's starting to get, what we call, chubba wubbas, which is basically fat, eatable thighs and legs. He's got this amazing little tummy that gets so big when he eats, because he eats so fast that it fills up with air. It doesn't seem to bother him in the least, he just farts away and then he's all good. The boy is a pooper and farter to the extreme. Some of you may have read about Her Bad Mother's Poopocalypse Now post last week. Some of you may have not. Those with weak stomachs maybe shouldn't. But we had our own version the other day in our friends Escalade. The Escalade that I'm going to have to pay to have professionally cleaned. Because of the poop. The Poopscapde is what we're calling it. I might have cried, it was that bad (I mean there was poop on almost every inch of the baby, the car seat and um under and around the car seat), but then I remembered HBM's Poopocalypse Now and I was thinking how lucky I was to have been four minutes from home, not in some random bathroom with no supplies in the middle of nowhere. Lets just stop here. Suffice to say, my son is a pooper.

(Ma, Iz just eatin mah overalls. Iz sory bout all that poopz.)

Harrison can hold his head up by himself, he loves to lay on his stomach and look around at the world. He scored a 9 out of 10 on the baby awareness chart, whatever the hell that means. He's got these huge intense eyes that follow us everywhere. He is a thinker, you can tell by the way he scrunches his eyebrows and forehead up all the time. I keep telling him, he's going to have old man wrinkles by the time he's two if he doesn't knock it off, but he doesn't seem to care. He's not big with the smiles, but on Saturday, he laughed. I swear to god, it was the most amazing thing I've ever heard in my life. There are few things that sound better to a mother than her babies first laugh and I remember it with all three of mine.

He still is a pretty good sleeper, although we've had a few more issues this past week. I think he's growing, Logan just thinks he likes us or something. Either way, we're trying to keep him up in the evenings, way longer than he really wants to be up, to try and get him sleeping better at night. It's worked the past few nights, although he is a dam crabby grouch by 8pm or so, when we finally put him down to sleep. Then he generally wakes up around 11pm to eat and goes back to sleep until around 6:30am. This schedule works out great for us, so we're going to keep up with it. He's really up and alert from about 6:30am till maybe 9am and then he sleeps and eats a lot of the day, then about 4:30pm or so, he's up until I finally take pitty on him and put him down. It's hard to have him crabby that last hour, but it's better than him thinking 4am is play time.

(Yes, I do take pictures of my pissed off son. What? It's cute.)

He loves to eat. That's all we really need to say about that. Because honestly the boy loves to eat. He has started playing with the bottle when he's done and gets a bit ticked off when I finally take it away.

He's mostly a pleasant baby. He can't stand to have his diaper changed, but at the same time, he can't stand to be dirty. It's a vicious circle, but what can you do. Laugh at him is what I do. I figure he might as well get used to being laughed at; he does have two big sisters you know. Besides this, he rarely cries. But he is super loud when he wants to be.


Morgan absolutely adores him. She wants to hold him all the time. She's constantly kissing him and talking to him. The only thing she won't even consider is changing a diaper; possibly because she's seen her dad get pissed in the face twice. Bailey is just warming up to him. She's a bit jealous of this boy taking over her long standing baby status. But she's doing alright with him. She's very gentle and is just starting to want to hold him all the time too.

(The one picture of the three of them where they are all even sort of looking at the camera.)

Logan and Harrison together warms my heart. I told you all once that I adore making and having babies with the man. It's so true, but it also comes from watching him with them. Watching him love our son; the best feeling in the world.

Becoming a family of five has been an adjustment. Still is in some ways. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. Harrison has completed our little family in a way that I didn't know was missing. He is an absolute joy. He's definitely a keeper.

PS. All of these pictures and the ones I posted yesterday we're taken on Saturday. On my baby's one month birthday.

Photo Sunday: one month old edition

One month post still to come, but I thought I'd show you all a few pics of my ONE month old baby boy.

Friday Facts, take one

1. My lovely son is trying to mess with my mind. He has woken up between 6:15 and 6:25 every single morning since he was two days old. This is the one time that has remained consistent. As strange as it sounds, I cherish this time with him. Logan is in the shower, the girls are sleeping. It's the one time, the one feeding that is never interrupted by anyone. So we sit and rock and he munches and we just look at each other. After this, he goes back to sleep for another hour or two and then the day has really started. This morning I woke up at 6:20. I waited, I listened; nothing. Logan took his shower and got dressed and went to make coffee. Still nothing. He came back and said, what happened, why didn't he wake up? Well, I just have no clue.

But see, the boy has me trained and now he's changed his mind. Meaning, I couldn't go back to sleep at all. He woke up at 7:45. He ate, amidst his sisters craziness. He still hasn't gone back to sleep. This is okay, it really is. I am sure I will enjoy that extra hour or so of sleep. But it makes me wonder what our day will be like now. What else he thinks he's going to change. Not even a month old (until tomorrow, post coming) and he's messing with me. I'm in trouble.

2. My mom and step-dad are coming today. They'll be here for a week or so. I'm so thrilled. But it means I have to pick up my house today. Maybe get some laundry done. Or I can sit and veg out and maybe my mom will help me. I know it's bad, but that will probably win out.

3. Failblog.org is cracking me up this week. Not as funny as, I can has cheeseburgers or I can has hotdogs, but still extremely funny. This one, had me rolling on the floor last night.


see more pwn and owned pictures

4. Last night, Logan and I went on our first date night, since Harrison was born. Leaving the girls, not a problem. Leaving the baby, ouch. Our sitter is amazing and when we got back, she said, he was awake for a while and he was fine, but he kept wrinkling his eyebrows while looking at her, like who are you lady? We just went out to eat and walked around the mall, but it was still fun. Adult time, adult conversations and no chocolate milk had to be ordered at dinner. Success.

5. For some reason, I always feel like I should have a t least five things when I do this. But today, I really don't. That's all she wrote folks.

Have a great weekend. I am working on a post for my month old tomorrow newborny. Sob. But with my parents coming into town, it probably won't go up until Monday.