Trials of the spacially-challenged

The movers showed up with our stuff at 8:01am on Monday. As they hauled box after box into the apartment, I simultaneously felt relieved that everything seemed to be accounted for, and panicked...that everything seemed to be accounted for. Trying to cram a 3 bedroom house (plus garage) worth of junk into a 2 bedroom apartment (sans garage) is not an easy undertaking, and I suddenly had visions of Alex sleeping on the balcony while his room was being used to store Christmas decorations and board games and winter clothes. Part of me was secretly hoping that the moving truck would get stuck on railroad tracks somewhere between F'ville and here, where a fast-moving train would plow through it and smash half of our stuff to smithereens, thus eliminating a large portion of the things I'd have to find a place for. But that didn't happen. So instead, I took a deep breath, sent Timothy for coffee, and started to mentally organize all of our possessions by category, shape, size, and color as the movers continued to bring boxes in.

Timothy found a nice little bakery down the street called Zaguan, known for their delicious array of Latin specialties, and brought back a few things to take my mind off of unpacking. What you're looking at here is a ham and cheese cachito, an apple pastele, and coconut sweet bread, with a side of much-needed, caffeine-laced, nectar of the gods.

By Alex's morning naptime, the movers were nowhere near finished. By 10:15, he was fit-to-be-tied, so he ended up in his usual spot - our closet - while the movers continued to shuffle things into the bedroom right outside the closet door. Little man slept right through the ruckus, and when he woke up, he was refreshed and ready to test out the durability of the wood laminate floors.

Murphy wasn't totally convinced that this move was a good idea, so he needed some extra attention, but we think he'll adjust eventually, mostly because...he doesn't really have a choice not to. Sorry Murph!

The movers finally finished up around 1, and we had the house all to ourselves. Well, ourselves and about three thousand boxes of junk that needed to be sorted through. None of those boxes had food in them, so we ended up having Chinese delivered. A was a big fan of the chicken and broccoli, but he was a little less enamored of the string beans, despite the fact that they were sauteed in a hot pepper sauce that enabled him to breathe fire out of his nose.

When bedtime rolled around, we were exhausted, to say the least. A got to sleep in his own bed, in his own room, which seems like a good thing, but he was a little unsure about his new surroundings and needed to be rocked asleep. He slept fine all night, and was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning, ready for his next big adventure.

Apartment Sweet Apartment

Praise Jesus, we made it to Dallas. Barely. We arrived around four o'clock, I think, and went straight to the leasing office at Broadstone Seville to pick up our keys. Luckily, the apartment was just as we remembered it, with no weird surprises or misjudgments to leave us disappointed. Instead, it was pristine and bright and open and we fell in love with it all over again.

I took some pictures of its pre-Evans condition, because let's face it, it will never be this clean or this empty as long as we're living in it.

This first one is the view from the front door down the hallway into the living area. You're looking at the door that leads to the balcony, flanked by two fixed windows, with a transom above that let's the sunlight in but keeps the Peeping Toms out.

The view(s) from the balcony.

This next one is the view from the living area into the kitchen/dining area, followed by one of the kitchen. The whole living space is open, so there are really no "rooms" to speak of in this section of the apartment.

Alex's room.

The view from Alex's room.

Alex's bathroom.

Master bedroom.

Master bath.

And that concludes this portion of our tour.

Alex was definitely digging his new "crib". Of course, little booger that he is, the very first thing he did when his knees hit the floor was to book it to the nearest door stop and promptly insert the rubber stopper into his mouth. Aah, visions of things to come...

Did you see how he palmed that thing? With the camera up to my face, I didn't even notice he had done it until he had already stuck it in his mouth. I probably shouldn't admit to the whole world, along with photo evidence, about what an unobservant mother I am. What can I say, I'm just keeping it real.

Anyway, chewing on rubber door stoppers wasn't the only thing that interested him. He's all, "What other dangerous thing can I get my mitts on? Hmmm, this oven oughta do the trick."

His last stop was the windows to the balcony, where he could check out the neighbors and make awesomely loud noises by slapping his hands against the glass.

We got to bed early because the movers would be arriving in the morning with our stuff. Alex ended up in our closet again because the mini blinds covering the giant windows in his room were hardly sufficient to keep the golden rays of Texas sunshine out. He slept fine, thankfully, but Tim and I were desperately missing our own comfy bed and couldn't wait to feel at home in our new place.

No vacancy

At long last, it was time to head to Dallas. We left directly from breakfast at the Village Inn, where we had just said "see ya laters" to the Primms. Oh, and remember how I said that we had kept enough stuff with us to survive for a week, and that I was pretty sure that it wasn't going to fit in the car? I happen to be very perceptive. It totally didn't fit. So we left a few things that weren't absolutely essential with the Primms and then crammed as much stuff into the car as possible.

It was not the most comfortable ride, what with junk piled up to our ears; with two pillows, a Boppy, and a dog on my lap, who, btw, couldn't decide whether the front seat or back seat was more comfortable and spent the whole trip alternating between the two in an attempt to figure it out; with the door to my right and Alex in his new, cumbersome, "big boy" car seat to my left; with a diaper bag, a tote bag, a cooler, and a camera bag at my feet; with the DVD player precariously perched on a pile of baby toys, just close enough for Alex to knock it down over and over again with his foot, cuz clearly, that was much more fun than just watching the doggone video; with A falling asleep with his poor head cocked to the side in a seemingly painful fashion, and me, the Good Mother, trying to stuff enough pillows around it to prop his head up without smothering him in the process...I just kept reminding myself that it was only five hours, that it could be worse, and, oh yeah, it was only a one-way trip. That doesn't mean I wasn't tempted, on many occasions, to roll down the window and chuck some things out onto the highway. I mean, who needs a laptop or toilet paper or eating utensils anyway?

When Alex wasn't snoozing, he was a bit of a beast, so I spent a lot of time trying to keep him entertained. It sort of worked. For, like, a minute.

The rest of the time, he just entertained himself, making faces and noises and whining and fussing...

Huff. Needless to say, I was getting more and more excited about getting to Dallas.

Sniff, GULP.

Cleaning the entire house after the movers left was only slightly more painful than packing it. Before Oliver's party on Saturday, we tried to get some of the cleaning done, but we had sent our vacuum to Dallas and had to wait to borrow Seth and Joy's before any of the floors could be done. So we basically just cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms, made piles of stuff that would have to fit into the car and moved those piles from room to room as we cleaned, and made up excuses why the really heinous tasks would have to wait until "later" to be done.

Again, Alex tried to help, but his method of removing everything from a box or bag at the precise moment that I finish filling said box or bag is not the most efficient strategy. Love ya, buddy, but your cleaning skills leave something to be desired.

Also on our "to do" list - to have a final meal at some of our favorite Fayetteville haunts. Of course, Rick's Bakery was on the list, so we had us a few donuts and some Rick's House Blend - you know, a healthy breakfast to fuel up for the busy day ahead.


A went down for his morning nap when we got back and woke up in time to be fashionably late to Oliver's party. Oh well, at least he was fashionable. Before we left, I asked him whether he was excited to go to the party and see everyone. This was his response:

Call me crazy, but I'd say that's a "yes".

Oliver's party was a smash and there were tons of fun people there, although A missed sharing the fun with his G-parents. Fortunately, Oliver was generous enough to lend Alex his, and Papa and M'laine made excellent substitutes. (P.S. Don't judge his demeanor by his face in the last pic - that mean-muggin' look is just a new "thing" he's been trying out lately.)

See, here it is again. This time, his scowl is followed by some cuddle time with Kara.

Awww, don't they look like a happy little family?

Sometime between all the eating and playing and scowling, Oliver opened his gifts. We got him some basketball jerseys and had "Primm" heat-pressed onto the back, along with Seth's high school basketball number. It was one of those "Seth and Joy will appreciate it more than Oliver will" kind of gift, so we also got him a kite and an Elmo balloon, which seemed to make up for the fact that we got him, uggghh, clothes.

Most of the guests left, but Oliver's cousins and aunts and uncles stuck around for a bit. As you can see, Alex had no problem mixing it up with his extended Primm family.

After most of the family left, A sat with his Daddy and Papa Primm on the swing for a bit. I'm not sure that he was aware that he was swinging, or that anyone else was around, because he was completely preoccupied with this little Nerf ball.

We reluctantly headed home...eventually, which was really awful and miserable and sad because we knew it was one of the last times we'd get to hang out with the Primms before we left for Dallas. We did plan to meet them at the crack of dawn for breakfast the next morning to say our final farewells, so that thought kind of kept our spirits up Saturday night. Our spirits were further lifted by a final meal of burritos and huevos rancheros at La Huerta.

Btw, notice the difference between a picture of Alex and his dad...

...and pictures of Alex and his mom...

Finally, he sat still long enough to get a decent one, although neither of our smiles are very convincing.

Speaking of unconvincing smiles, it was kind of an awful and miserable and sad week in general in the sense that the reality of leaving all of our friends was starting to set in. Earlier in the week, Timothy had his "last supper" with his friends from school at Hugo's, then the following day, I had my "last supper" with my work friends...at Hugo's.

So when Sunday morning arrived and it was time for our dreaded last breakfast with the Primms, I was kind of anticipating a breakdown of sorts, at the very least expecting to shed a few tears into my coffee. Somehow I managed to hold it together, even when Oliver gave me a huge, long hug and a sloppy, sincere kiss goodbye. I got a little watery, but it wasn't quite the event that I was afraid it would be. Of course, I had broken down a little the night before, so that may have helped me get it out of my system. Even Joy, with her preggo hormones a-ragin', maintained her composure. I was so proud of us!

I did kind of convince myself that we were not saying "goodbyes", but rather, "see you laters", like we would surely be seeing them the next weekend at the latest, as usual, and that we weren't driving hundreds of miles away, permanently, only to see them at some unscheduled point in the future. There's a good chance that I'm just delaying an inevitable breakdown, and maybe I will need therapy like those people that never mourn a loved one and have serious emotional problems because of it. But for now, I'm okay living in denial of the "loss" of our best friends, cause really they're not lost, they're just a little farther away. BFF! We miss you guys already!

So that's where I put that dust bunny...

Packing the entire contents of one's house is about as much fun as...I don't know...something really not fun. I swear, I would spend half a day cramming things into boxes and somehow end up with more things to pack than I started with. Like, when I wasn't looking, my stuff was mating and multiplying, creating lots of new stuff that had to be packed - and quickly, before those things found their mates and reproduced and I had even more stuff to deal with. I was a little crazed by the end of the week, and started to reconsider my aversion to having the movers pack all my stuff in addition to loading and moving it. And, apparently, they don't go through your underwear drawer. So I'm thinking next time - if there ever is a next time - I'd be willing to let complete strangers box up my stuff in lieu of attempting to survive another attempt to do it myself.

Alex tried to help, but honestly, Alex's efforts to "help" are usually more of a hindrance. I'm sure he has good intentions...

I did manage to get almost everything packed by the time the movers showed up Friday morning. I was scrambling a little bit that morning to get a few last things into boxes and get some boxes taped and labeled, but for the most part, the packing and loading went smoothly. Those guys were in at 8:30am and out by noon. Poor A had nowhere to nap and was a bit of a mess for most of the day, until I finally set up the pack 'n' play in our closet. We all had to sacrifice a little when it came to sleeping arrangements. For example, here's where Timothy and I slept Friday and Saturday night. Not exactly what I'd call "luxury accommodations".

The most challenging thing about packing was that we didn't know exactly when our stuff would be delivered to Dallas. During the survey, we were told that the truck could show up any time the following week, so we had set aside a week's worth of clothing, toiletries, food, etc., that we would need if they didn't get our load to Dallas until the following Friday. And, all of those things needed to fit into the car. We hardly have room to spare during a weekend trip to Eldo! It wasn't until the movers arrived that we found out they'd be delivering our stuff on Monday. By then, it was too late to reassess what we would and wouldn't need for the weekend, then pack the unneeded items into boxes so we could load them into the truck. Oh well, it was only five hours to Dallas. So we'd be a little uncomfortable. At least we'd be prepared...

The New Adventures of Corn Dog

I know you all are anxious to hear about Oliver's party, how packing and loading and cleaning went, yada, yada, yada...But instead, I'm going to talk about corn. Yes, you read that correctly. Instead of writing about any of the many important and relevant subjects concerning our imminent move to Dallas, I am devoting an entire blog post to the subject of corn.

One of the tasks we had to take on during that last week in the house was to empty the fridge, freezer, and cabinets as much as possible so that we wouldn't have to throw away tons of food when we left. That led to some creative meal planning, especially when it came to feeding Alex. On this particular evening, we had leftover Penguin Ed's, and I threw a couple of frozen ears of corn into the mix.

We set up the card table in the garage (nothin' but class for us Evanses), and when A got a little bored of his Ed's chicken and strawberries and started to get antsy, I handed him a corn cob that I had more or less picked clean. He wasn't sure what to do with it at first, but it didn't take long for him to catch on.

It's been a while since he's shown such an obvious affinity for a food, but as he devoured that corn cob, I imagined his thoughts went something like this: "Oh corn, sweet corn, where have you been all my life?"

Seriously, he was completely enamored of that corn cob, continued to nosh on it until Timothy and I had both finished our dinners and desserts, and when I tried to take it from him so I could clean him up and get him ready for bed, he tightened his fist around it and said something about having to pry it from his cold dead hands.

At that point, I pretty much decided that I needed to carry around an emergency corn cob kit at all times. Maybe those people at Gerber or MAM need to think about developing a corn cob-inspired pacifier. Mom, I'm thinking this may be a million dollar idea...

The Afterparty

Clean up after the party was bittersweet. Sweet because it went pretty smoothly as we had about a dozen people contributing to the effort, including Alex, whose main contribution was rolling around in circles with a bunch of balloons attached to his walker.

Bitter because it meant that the party was officially over and that we were one step closer to moving away from our friends. But we sucked it up and went about our business. For Alex, that meant more fun times with his Grandparents before they all headed home.

Grammy and Poppa left Sunday, while G'pa and B left Monday morning. Their departures signaled the beginning of the final stretch, which includes packing up the remainder of our stuff, having the movers load the truck with most of our earthly possessions, attending Oliver's birthday party, and cleaning all of the filthy nooks and crannies in our house (which will inevitably be revealed when the movers haul away their hiding places). It will be a long and painful week, both physically and emotionally. Hopefully we will survive so we can make it to Dallas, cuz yeah, that's kind of the point...

He makes a mortar board look good

It's the end of an era. Timothy officially graduated from law school this past weekend. It's been a loooong three years, and as much as I loved having the house to myself for days at a time and single-parenting an active and energetic rugrat during finals, as much as I've loved to feign interest when Timothy speaks of things like "writs of certiorari" or "exculpatory evidence", as much as I've loved having to console my poor, pitiful husband when he's pouty and depressed about getting an A-minus on an exam instead of that A that he surely deserved, I am ecstatic that this phase of our lives is finally coming to an end, and that we are almost ready to start life in the "real world".

I'm pretty sure that most of the people who visit this blog are fully aware of how brilliant and charming my husband is, but I'd like to take a minute to offer some specific examples.

He graduated from law school with highest honors, summa cum laude, meaning he has maintained a 3.75 grade point average - not an easy task, as you can imagine. He's had an article published in the Arkansas Law Review, which will be referenced by lawyers countrywide for many years to come, and was appointed to the editorial board of the Law Review, serving as an Associate Editor. He earned a trip to New York City for winning the school's moot court competition and the opportunity to compete against stellar law students from across the country. And those are just the things I can remember off the top of my head.

Sometimes success like this can foster jealousy and create animosity from other students - or "player-haters" as I like to call them - that wish they were half as awesome as he is. But somehow, Timothy has managed to remain humble and thus well-liked by his peers, as evidenced by the fact that he was elected by his class to be the student speaker at the Commencement Ceremony. Not that it should have been a surprise, but I am still kind of blown away by that honor. I mean, that's essentially like being voted "most popular" or "most likely to have interesting things to say". Like, omigosh, I feel like I'm married to the Captain of the Football Team. Mmmm, maybe more like the President of the Chess Club. Either way, I am super proud of his accomplishments and am happy to be the First Lady of the guy who "won law school".

In preparation for Saturday's events, the Boettchers and the Evanses arrived Friday evening and convened at our house for a dee-lish Cajun dinner, featuring a vat of homemade jambalaya that my dad made from scratch in Peoria and transported all the way to Fayetteville. It was a hit. Sooo good. And it was fun to have both families together again, for the first time since Alex was born.

Speaking of Alex, he loooved being able to spend time with his G-pa's and Ma's and Aunties and cousins...Here he is with his Grandpa and Papa. (Btw, I think he looks like a beaver in the first picture. A really cute beaver. With good hair.)

Commencement was on Saturday afternoon, so we left A at our house with the Primms while the rest of the family headed to Town Center in Fayetteville. The house was packed and I was neeeeervous about Timothy's speech, surely much more so than he was. But of course, he exceeded expectations and delivered an incredible speech that was poignant and relevant, with just enough humor to keep (most of) the audience awake.

As if getting to speak in front of hundreds of people wasn't cool enough, Timothy also got to stay on stage for the entire ceremony as the only student member of the "Platform Party", aka the VIP section. The announcer got confused when he wasn't standing with the "normal" students, aka the "less important" ones, so she almost skipped his name. Talk about irony - imagine if the class speaker didn't get to graduate. Fortunately, she caught on when Timothy started to walk towards her from the stage, so he did get his diploma after all. Phew, crisis averted.

It's official!

We had a small get-together at our house after the ceremony, with Penguin Ed's BBQ, IBC root beer, and cake from Rick's Bakery.

HUBBA-HUBBA.

A really enjoyed Ed's chicken and ain't afraid to show it. This picture should be entitled, "Alex in a nutshell".

Timothy opened some of his hard-earned graduation gifts, one of which was a new Martin HD...one...something...niner...acoustic guitar from his Momma and Daddy. Alex has taken a liking - and a licking - to Timothy's Ovation, so a pretty, new gi-tar was much needed and appreciated.

Of course, Alex got a preemptive lecture about how this pretty, new guitar was off-limits, but that the Ovation has officially been passed down to him, to do with as he pleases.

We had a great turnout, and everyone seemed to have fun. It was hard not to think about how much I'm gonna miss these people when we move.

As usual, Alex was a trooper and loved to have so many people around.

Someday he will understand what his daddy has accomplished and will be just as proud as me and Murph are!

P.S. If these aren't enough pictures to make you feel like you were actually there, I've uploaded about ten zillion more on Flickr. Check 'em out!

Where's the beef?

To say I have been busy lately would be a gross understatement. With our moving date quickly approaching - on May 23rd, the truck will arrive and several (hopefully) husky men will be loading the contents of our home into it - and Timothy's graduation this weekend, with party chez Evans to follow, I am in the throes of "crunch time".

Fortunately, the contents of our home have been reduced drastically thanks to a successful garage sale last weekend. Over the course of five hours, I had over 50 groups of people show up, and I would estimate that at least 75% of those bought at least one item. I won't divulge exact numbers, but I will say that we made somewhere between 289 and 291 dollars. Not bad for a half day's work, eh?

Oh, and get this. Remember Timothy's 1992 Ford Explorer, the one with the busted grille that broke down about a year ago and has since been an oil-dripping eyesore taking up space in our driveway? Well, we shifted that bad boy into neutral, pushed it out of the driveway and onto the cul-de-sac, where we planned on taping a "for sale - best offer" sign in the back window with hopes that some poor schmuck would hand over a crisp one dollar bill and haul it off for us. Otherwise, we'd have to arrange to have it towed to the junkyard, which takes precious time and energy that we just don't have.

By the time my first customers drove up around 7am, I was still pricing knick-knacks and had yet to put a sign on the Explorer. Nonetheless, after browsing through my diverse inventory and selecting a few choice items, the husband looked at me and said, "I have a weird question, but, do you happen to have any broken down cars that you'd want to get rid of?"

Say WHAT!? I felt a little bit like I was being Punk'd, cuz seriously, what are the chances that my first customers of the day would pull up and ask such a question, off the cuff? Pretty good, I guess. I said, "Uhhh, yeah, you can have that Explorer over there." Turns out, the guy was a metal scrapper and aluminum wheels are worth something. He offered a hundred bucks to take it off our hands, to which I replied, "Omigosh yes please thank you Jesus". Of course Timothy had already drafted a contract and related purchase agreements, etc., etc., so a few signatures later and we were Explorer free!

What wasn't sold at the garage sale I was able to sell or give away on Craig's List, with the exception of a large pile of random stuff that The Salvation Army is supposed to pick up tomorrow. Other than that, the only thing left in the garage is a large stack of cardboard moving boxes that I now have to fill with the "survivors" of our purge.

Of course, you can't have all work and no play. We have managed to squeeze in a little fun lately, too.

A has all but outgrown his carseat, so we went to Walmart to try out some larger models.

Alex practiced for his Everest climb by scaling our mountainous furniture.

I had lunch with the boys...

...and dinner with the girls.

A was exhausted from all the shopping, eating, and mountain-climbing, so on this particular day, he decided he needed to kick back and relax. From the looks of that gut, he needs to lay off the bottle. Or maybe it's just a bad camera angle. Mommy should know better than to take a picture from the belly up.

We also did Hugo's with the Primms, which was sooo fun and the food was sooo good. I'm actually having a hard time blogging right now because I can't stop thinking about how much I want a hamburger. I'll leave you with the last pic of Timothy and the boys outside of Hugo's, then I gotta go raid the fridge. TTFN.

A perfect 10!

So I thought nine months seemed like a significant milestone, but for some reason, the fact that Alex is ten months old now is sort of blowing my mind. I mean, we're talking double digits now. I must move on before I think about it too much and trigger a panic attack...

Size: We won't have another well-child visit until a year, so we will all have to hold out until then to find out his official stats. But my aching biceps tell me that he is indeed growing. Not too much, however, since he hasn't outgrown any of his clothes this past month. He's still in size four shoes and size four diapers, although his overnights are no longer pulling their weight. On many mornings, I have pulled him out of his crib and hugged him hello, only to realize that my sweet baby has left a layer of sweet baby pee-pee all over my shirt. I really don't think size fives are the answer, although I've made that mistake before...

Eating: At this point, it might be more efficient to list the foods that he doesn't eat (both of them) than list all of the ones he does!

We rarely do baby food anymore, although I do have a few containers of peas and such rattling around in my cabinet that I will take if we are going out to eat. I'm a firm believer in the value of a well-rounded diet, namely, meals that contain each of the four food groups. Alex still drinks 5 oz. of formula at each meal, which provides most of the nutrition he needs, so food is really just "practice" at this point. Nonetheless, I am determined to introduce him to as many healthy food options that I can at each mealtime, incorporating most of the food groups when possible.

As such, he's tried tons of new things since last month. He has organic blueberry waffles or sweet potato pancakes for breakfast (no syrup, but the waffles and pancakes are sweet and delicious on their own, and I often steal bites when he is not looking) with thin-sliced deli ham and fruit. If I'm in a hurry, oatmeal makes a fine substitute. Lunch and dinner are often a variation of what we are eating - ground beef or turkey, beans, or cheese, fruit and veggies, and sometimes a starch, like pasta or potatoes. I buy frozen stir-fry veggies and boil Alex-sized portions at a time, so he eats things like cauliflower, red bell peppers, broccoli, and asparagus. He likes swiss and cheddar, kidney beans better than pintos, and any fruit is fair game.

He is still pretty indiscriminate about what he will eat, but he has demonstrated an obvious affinity for a few things.

He's never tried chicken nuggets - we are trying to delay the introduction of typical (though often unhealthy) "kiddie fare" like nuggets and fries - but he loves Boca's breaded "chicken" patties, aka breaded "chicken-flavored tofu" patties. I know, I know, how cruel to deprive a child of such pleasurable things as chicken nuggets, and further, to force him to eat such horrific things as poultry-impersonating bean curd. But he can't get enough of the stuff, grabs it up by the fistfuls, and will be gagging on the two pieces he's already crammed into his mouth while he attempts to stuff in a third.

Like his mama, he is a huge fan of strawberries and will sort through all of the food on his tray, picking out all of the strawberries first and gobbling them up before he touches anything else. Another fave is yogurt, which we recently introduced. It's about the only thing that he'll whine for more of once he's eaten all of it. Other than that, he likes everything better if it has a little parmesan cheese sprinkled on it. Pasta, veggies, ground beef and turkey - he likes 'em all, but he likes 'em a even more when they're covered in cheese.

He eats at 7:30am, noon, and 5:30pm, with a snack - usually a banana and/or some applesauce - around 3. He still drinks a bottle before bed, although I have started the weaning process by watering it down, so he gets 8ozs. of water with only 6ozs. worth of formula. I'm hoping the watering-down method works, cuz frankly, I'm dreading having to convince him to go to bed without his precious bedtime ba-ba...

Sleeping: So I may have been a little dramatic when I posted about Alex's "sleep issues" last week. In my defense, when things like that start to happen, you never really know whether it is a phase or a fluke. In this case, it seems to have been a fluke because it only happened twice. He still refuses his afternoon nap on occasion (today was one such occasion), but he hasn't woken up at night since the day I posted.

Generally, he still takes 2 naps - one at 9 and one between and 1:30. Lately, he's been going to bed closer to 7:30 than 7, and he has been waking up around 6:30am on most days. Of course, the morning that I was up at 6am to prepare for my garage sale, he decided to sleep until 7:40. The nerve!!

Physical/cognitive milestones: The biggest change this month would have to be his increased vocal development. In other words, he talks non-stop these days. He is constantly experimenting with new sounds, new volumes, new pitches, new consonants, vowels, and syllables. Ma-ma, da-da, and ba-ba are regular fixtures in his vocabulary, but lately, he has added (what we interpret as) "hi", "bye-bye", and "baby".

He loves to imitate what we do and say, which has been so much fun. His favorite game is to shake his head back and forth and then wait for one of us to imitate him. Instead, we usually respond by nodding instead of shaking, so perfecting his nod has become his newest challenge. He waves hello and goodbye, and he claps when he sees someone else clapping, when he hears applause on the TV, or sometimes, when he just feels like it.

He is an especially curious boy and takes so much pleasure in exploring new things. To find him playing with a toy these days is a rarity - he'd rather get into all the no-nos because, let's face it, they're usually much more interesting.

He is always on the move, although he still shows little interest in walking. He crawls to get where he wants to go, he pulls up on everything, cruises, and he'll climb anything that's in his way, so I have a feeling he has no use for walking just yet. I think his philosophy at this point may be, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it". I'm sure there will come a day soon when he's ready to move on to bigger and better things, and that's a day I don't think I'm quite ready for.

He laughs more now than in all of his previous months put together, overjoyed by even the smallest amount of attention. He is quite the performer, and if we laugh along with him, he hams it up even more. I mean, this kid defines the word "personality".

When he is not laughing and playing, he is usually cuddled up on my or Timothy's lap, with his sweet head nestled into our shoulders. He has never been much of a cuddler, so I'm wondering if that's how his separation anxiety has ended up playing out. If so, then it's a win-win situation for all of us because we could cuddle with our precious, darling boy all day long.

Word to yo mutha

I know you are all anxiously awaiting a belated 10 month post, and although it is in the works as I type, I wanted to take a quick second to shout-out to all the mamas in the crowd, being that today is Mother's Day and all.

It's probably no surprise that I have a whole new perspective on Mother's Day now that I'm a mom. I've heard - many, many times - about what a...challenge I was as a baby. I never slept, I was (in)famous for my ability to project vomit across a room, I crawled and climbed and clawed my way to any no-no I could find, and I was fond of eating poisonous houseplants. But it was always hard to relate to the woes of early motherhood, as my own mom described them, before I had actually experienced them myself.

On many more occasions, however, I have heard (and read, thanks to my mom the Queen of All Journal-keepers) about what an incredible joy I brought to my parents, about how smart and energetic and spirited I was, about how thankful they were for me - despite my many "challenges" - and how much I was loved, adored, and appreciated. That, too, was hard to really comprehend until Alex came along. I finally understand what a mother feels, how a mother thinks, and how a mother loves. How much a mother loves.

And Mother's Day is a wonderful concept. I'm a big fan of the idea that there is a day dedicated to the moms of the world, that honor them for the hard work that they do, at a job that requires them to be on duty, every minute of every day of every year, 'til death they do part. But the greatest gift is having a happy baby, one that loves his mom abundantly and unconditionally, the way she loves him. And I have that! What a lucky mom I am.

Happy Mother's Day!

Leave some room for the Holy Ghost

Last Saturday was a beautiful day here in Northwest Arkansas - in the seventies, clear skies, slight breeze. Ideal weather for a date in the park, eh? Well, Alex was the one with the date. Timothy and I just went to chaperone because A isn't allowed to date on his own 'til he's married. And maybe not even then.

His date, Lucy, just turned a year old and is the daughter of our friends, Robert and Aimee. Aimee (pronounced M.A., which is French for "loved") and I have been meaning to get the kids together for...about eight months now, and finally we made plans for a playdate in the park. Right in the nick of time, eh?

We started things off at the swings, which, for some reason, I don't have any pictures of...Oh yeah, Tim had the camera. That 'splains it. The kids started looking a little green after about fifteen minutes of swinging, so we took them out and sat 'em on the grass to get better acquainted. Apparently, the "getting to know you" process for babies goes a something like this:

Staring...

...finger counting...yup, all there...

...forehead rubbing...

...and if all goes well, it ends with hugs...

...and they crawl off into the sunset together.

Well, really, they crawled off to the sand together. It was Alex's first up and close encounter with sand, and he was pretty fascinated.

Unfortunately, his fascination led to him throwing sand at Lucy's face (which, to be fair, she was also doing to him), so we quickly nixed that idea and moved the party back to the grass, where more unusual friendly-gesturing ensued.

Like nose-picking...

...more forehead rubbing...

...and head patting.

What I neglected to capture on film, mostly because I'm not psychic, was that Alex stood up on his own for at least five seconds. FIVE SECONDS!! I know that doesn't sound like very long, but when you're talking about a baby standing, it really is! Seriously, close your eyes, picture Alex standing by himself, on the grass in the middle of the park, and count to five. ONE one thousand, TWO one thousand, THREE one thousand, FOUR one thousand, FIVE one thousand. See!? That's a long time! And I have a feeling that he could've stood longer, but we were so excited about his accomplishment that Timothy exclaimed, "Holy cow!!" and caused Alex to whip his head around, which threw off his balance and down he went. He has "let loose" on several previous occasions, but none for such an impressive length of time. I don't think walking is imminent just yet, but this certainly is a "step in the right direction"!

Finally, it was nearing dinner time and A had chosen to skip his afternoon nap that day, so he was tired and hungry and it was time to head home. For Alex, that meant making his way to the car on his hands and knees. It seems that his aversion to grass is now enjoying the Floridian sun, living in a nice retirement home, next door to his gag reflex.

Open up ya mouth, ya grill gleamin'

In case you hadn't noticed, A's got a whole mouth full of chompers these days. His affinity for dark roast coffee makes me worry about how we're gonna keep 'em pearly white (and come to think of it, probably has something to do with his recent sleep issues), so we broke out the baby toothbrush and paste for the first time. Never having brushed someone else's teeth, let alone a baby who has no idea why I'm jabbing a brush at his mouth, I wasn't sure what the best method of attack should be.

The most sensible approach probably would've been to have Timothy hold him while I attempted the brushing, but then who would take the pictures? So I sat him up on the bathroom counter, where flying spittle would require little clean up. Problem was, I only had one free hand to hold him still and make sure he didn't fall over, and I really needed both hands to pry his mouth open and stick the brush in.

So the second dumbest idea I had was to lay him down on the counter. Even if he squirmed, he probably wouldn't fall off the counter with me in the way, and I had two free hands to work with. Dumb as it may sound, it worked! He didn't mind the brushing really, although he made a funny face when he tasted the fruity bubblemint toothpaste (better than it sounds).

I think I managed to clean each of his six teeth, so Operation Bright Smile seemed to be a success. But I'll let you be the judge. Hey Alex, show 'em what you're working with!

Simon Says Sleep

We've hit a bit of a rough patch with Alex's sleeping lately. On a couple of occasions, he has refused his afternoon nap and then has woken up during the night, unable to go back to sleep despite our efforts to soothe him back down. I suspect that separation anxiety may have something to do with it because he has been a little more clingy than usual and often gets upset when his dad or I leave the room. I'm hoping it's a short-lived phase because I'm freaking out a little, and with everything going on right now, I could live without one more thing to freak out about.

The most stressful thing is not knowing for sure why he's doing it, and therefore, not knowing the best way to deal with it...Dangit, I thought I was done having to troubleshoot for a while. I guess that's how things with kids go though, eh? The fact that you think you finally have them figured out, and then they're all, "Guess again, Mom. How 'bout some random midnight hissy fits to keep you on your toes?" Sigh.

The good news is, he always falls asleep eventually, and when he wakes up, he is so sweet and cute and wonderful that I can ignore the ulcer he's given me and look forward to a new day.

Oh, and our next challenge to tackle - getting A to stop sharing his food with Murph. Yeeeah, I'm thinking there's a good chance that'll be harder than trying to solve his sleep issues...

Of Mice and Moms

Am I the only mother out there who is constantly on the verge of a Lennie Small moment? I love Alex so much, sometimes I just want to grab him, stroke his hair, and squeeze him 'til his head pops off. Is this normal? Just thought I'd ask...