Fish

Lest I forget, a note about our new pet.  Last week a horrified look passed over Owen's countenance shortly before announcing, 'Mommy, I was supposed to get a fish when I was 3, actually!!!!!  I didn't get a fish!!'  It's true.  He had been promised a fish.  But my Dad's illness, resulting travel, etc. kind of got in the way of that little plan :{  It was cute and awful to see him so horrified to discover that the promised fish had not been forthcoming.  So, quick-to-regain-trust mommy took him to the store that day and came home with $28 worth of fish bowl, food, water conditioner and betta fish.  I am impressed that we made it home with the fish alive.  Owen held him in the backseat while we drove home, and I had to rescue the little guy when I looked back and saw his plastic home precariously balanced on the side of the carseat, ready to spill out its contents through the hole in the lid.  Owen picked his name, which was inspired as he gazed at fishie before his rescue.  He chose 'Dancywooder.'  I made him repeat this to me about 15 times to make sure I heard it right.  That's indeed it!  Now that I've pondered the etymology of this name, I realize that he probably first had the thought 'dancy-water', and then modified it to dancywooder because he is at a stage where he thinks it's absolutely hilarious to say words in a silly way and purse up his lips and make faces while he does it.  In any case, I think it's quite a creative name, and kind of cute.  Now the challenge is remembering to feed Dancywooder, and when we do feed him, restraining ourselves from feeding him way too much.  We happen to have a book called, 'A Fish Out of Water' all about a boy who feeds his fish too much and the ensuing chaos, so that has helped. :)  Dancywooder looks a lot like this:

Asher's 1!

Owen:  Mommy, is toDAAAY Asher's birthday?
Me:  Yes, today is finally his birthday party day. (This was a long-anticipated event, but not necessarily by Asher :)
Owen:  YAAAY!!!!  [pause for thought]  Mommy, is Asher going to be 1?
Me:  Mmm-hmm.
Owen:  Then Asher will be 2 and 3 and big like me!!  Mommy, is Asher not a little baby much anymore?
Me:  Not much, he's almost walking, and he can say some words and understand us and eat normal food.  Babies don't do those things, do they?
Owen:  [with genuine sadness]  Mommy, I want Asher to still be a cute baby.  I love my baby.
Me:  I know how you feel.

We had a few friends over to celebrate...invited a crowd, but we found out right from the start that summer birthdays are bummers for kids.  Most everyone was on vacation!  But it was a nice size group in the end, probably better than a too-big group for a 1 year old.  Have to give a well-deserved shout-out to Laura List, who showed up just a few days after having her tonsils out!  We felt quite honored because I'm pretty sure she probably wasn't feeling her greatest.  But she didn't let on!

Here's a little movie of singing and Asher's first cake (shortly after shutting of the camera...of course...he picked it up with 2 hands and really went after it.  It was all eaten up, every last molecule of sucrose except those left on his face, in short order).  http://vimeo.com/13774820

And some pictures...

distraction

Kids in bed.  Reuel at a work dinner.  Me needing desperately to get my house in a bit of order and plan Asher's birthday party.  So what do I do?  Pick up a parenting book.  It is stressing me out so much because the experience of reading it is like, 'Exactly what you do every day is exactly what to not do as a parent, and every concerning thing you see in your child every day are exactly all the bad, overall life-ruining things that will result.  And here's our method that we claim will work, but is practically extremely difficult to implement, not to mention possibly quite desctructive if implemented *slightly* off of our exact description.'  So, I am running away from my problem and doing something more immediately enjoyable and less stressful.  I guess that means my parents didn't discipline me very well.  :)


Asher's top ten list of totally awesome things to do:
1.  Eat tidbits out of the trash can. 
2.  Try to put my hands in the toilet.  Preferably before it's been flushed while cramming myself in between the user and the fixture.
3.  Make a beeline and crawl FAST and wedge myself inside every time the refrigerator is opened.  Throw a major fit when I am removed and the door is closed.
4.  See #3, change 'wedge inside refrigerator' to 'crawl on top of open dishwasher door'.
5.  Throw toys.  All toys make great balls and it is absolutely hilarious when I throw them.
6.  Eat all things that are not polyurethane or wood off of the floor.  Unless the polyurethane is chipped, in which case I guess I'd eat that too.
7.  Climb on top of things.  All things.  Use anyone or anything sitting on the floor as a stepladder.  Laugh while diving off head first and getting caught by mom...totally freaks her out.
8.  Spit out all the healthy foods I used to love raspberry-style.  Or, pick them up, sniff and then smear them all over my face without getting any in my mouth.  Scream for fruit.
9.  Drag around a stuffed animal with me while I crawl.  At all times.  Unless I put it down so that I can eat something off the floor.
10.  Shake my head side to side when something is funny!

Here's a little movie from yesterday:  http://vimeo.com/13561169

Today we went to the pick your own farm and blueberries were ripe.  Next week is the last week for raspberries so we'll have to make another trip!  This year there are big signs posted everywhere...'Pick Your Own fruit is on the honor system!  You may sample one or two pieces of fruit, but 99% of what you pick should be paid for!'  Now, this is a hard rule for a grown-up, I must say, when there are gorgeous heavy-laden clustered ripe blueberries in front of your eyes everywhere you look.  But for a 1 and 3 year old...forget it!  I did my best.  Luckily Asher, who has the biggest blueberry appetite, was content with the high-quality windfall berries for the most part (mixed with a good intake of bark mulch and grass), but at one point I confess he did set himself right in front of a protruding low branch and proceed to steadily clean it of all its berries.  I figured that if I had not let him do it, they would have gotten a lot less of my money because we would have had to leave a lot earlier with a lot less produce.  Asher had his first experience of meeting a goat, and he thought it was a hoot.  He is a giggler...he was laughing when the goat came over to him.  So cute.

Age compare

Keep meaning to do a picture compare at almost 1 yr...

Cape Cod

Well, it has been a long time since I've thought about blogging...too busy spending time with family and having fun at the beach.  That's a *way* better use of time than the computer.  I think I checked my email twice in a week...ahhhh.  We had a fairly rough return to normal today after pulling in to the house this afternoon...I think it was a case of all-tired-out-from-too-much-fun.  But we had a concurrent case of vacation-totally-worth-any-readjustment-pains, so it's all good.  We went to Dennisport in Cape Cod for a week, stayed in a comfortable and cute shingled Cape cottage with my mom, aunt and sister.  There were a few trips...a bay-side beach, bumper boats, mini golf, and of course Cape Cod staples...fried seafood and ice cream...but mostly we enjoyed the pools and beach.  Much fun!  Here are some photo memories (we brought out the camera only a few times so we missed a lot of photo opps; too busy enjoying ourselves):

Didja hear the news?  It's cute week on the Cape!

This couch is inCREdible.  Who needs beach?

Dude.  Are you seeing what I'm seeing?

Yup.  Older babe alert.  I'm all over it.

Seriously, watch me make my move.  Mom has no clue.

Hey, how's it going.  Having fun on the beach?  So what size swim diaper do you wear?

I hear sand is a great exfoliator.  Here, let me show you.  (Score!!  I bet Owen I'd get her and he totally owes me!!)

I cannot even believe it...he's not even 1 year old yet.  I'll never live this down.

Well, girls are interesting and all, but this sand...all I have to say is yum.  I seriously can NOT stop eating it.

In your face!!  I got the real hottie, Aunt Debbie!

Care to join me for some outdoor dining on the patio?

Bit of the front yard...can't see here but the Cape is gorgeous with gardens.  The hydrangeas are HUGE.  I'd never seen such hydrangea bushes growing everywhere, as high as your shoulder, and apparently not too hard to grow.

Just above the steps to the beach...

A summer night in New England is about as pleasant as it gets.

3 year olds get sillier by the day!

Summer just 2 hours from home!!!

The house we stayed in!

My Dad rented the house for us, and intended to join us.  I missed him.  Thanks Dad, it was exactly the week you wanted for all of us.  XO

pink eye

You have never heard a child scream so much as when he found out we were making an impromptu office visit to the pediatrician on account of a puffy, red, pus-covered eye that developed in about 2 hours flat today.  He screamed through the drive there, through the anticipation of the appointment, the appointment itself, and then promptly snapped into the most chipper, cordial mood as soon as it was 'over'.  He proceeded to thank the care provider, 'Fank you, Mrs. Joey!' and start chatting it up about going to the doctor and getting medicine.  I could really have done without the drama, the physical restraining of one child while dealing with a little one who does not enjoy being confined to a stroller in any way, and most of all, the pink eye!  Now, to stop it in it's tracks before any more of us acquire it.  Owen's eye looked pretty horrific...I will pass, thanks!!!

Leaving for Cape Cod on Sunday!  It was supposed to be a trip with my Dad.  Quite sad to go without him...

Owen asks questions now and then...'Is Gwampa well now?  Is Gwampa coming to the beach?'  A pile of Dad's clothes are still laying in the porch.  I don't have the stomach yet to take them to Goodwill...links to him that take me back to such a short time ago that he was right there staying with us and wearing those things.  Anyway, Owen asks me about them sometimes.  'Mommy, why didn't Gwampa take his boots to heaven?'  I give the best answer I can.  Today we were driving and Owen must have been thinking on the bits and pieces of conversation we've had:  'Mommy, I am going to go to heaven and visit Gwampa in his heaven house and God will give me new clothes to wear!'

Sleeping babes

Couldn't resist peeking in on my sweeties before retiring tonight, and am entirely overwhelmed, humbled, joyed to look at them in their beds.  There is a miniscule, yet fully unique and lovable little being lying there totally at peace in the middle of his giant crib.  He looks like a little marshmallow man in his footie pajamas and short arms and legs sticking out from his puffball belly.  Edible!!!  And Owen now in a big-boy bed making me catch my breath to consider that three years have just flown by in a big hurry.  Wasn't I just struggling to learn how to nurse and nap him a few breaths ago?  Now he tells me everyday about what he's going to do when he's a 'big daddy!'  To look at them asleep is such a gift...hard sometimes to find a moment quiet enough in the day to reflect on the incredible-ness of them, and nice to have all the time in the world to study them and love them while they sleep away.  The feeling must be familiar, but rather indescribable...sort of like the inner surge of spirit when a piece of music transports...a glimpse of the divine.  And I'm brought to my knees to consider this wholly undeserved privilege of being their mom.  Lord, hear our prayers for grace in our flawed parenting, and for wisdom, and for confidence while remembering that you love them even more than we do!