Pictures From May

We had a Dr. Seuss themed birthday party for Luke, complete with Cat in the Hat cupcakes. On my list of Things I Don't Ever Want To Do Again At 3 AM: Rolling two million mini marshmallows in red sugar.

"I wish these fool people would quit singing so I could eat my cupcake."

Of course, he blew more spit than air, so his friend had to help him out. And this right here? This is why we do cupcakes instead of a sheet cake.

Fuzzy picture of a happy, blue-faced boy

I made him smile nicely for this picture...

...which he agreed to, but only if he got to "roar like a dinosaur" for the next one.

Of course, I had to get Weston in on the hat-wearing action

This play kitchen is Weston's favorite toy ever, possibly because he gets to throw all the pots and pans and play food around and make an enormous mess.

...And here's his other favorite activity. Common thread: mess-making.

And speaking of making a mess...

This was at Luke's friend's birthday party. His mom had made some cloud dough for the kids to play with. Instead, they dumped it all out onto the grass and then, Weston decided that the bin was just the right size for him to sit in.

This was at the same party. Best baby pool I've ever seen. Deep end, shallow end, slide, and sprinkler.

I know the lighting is awful, but oh, how I love that smile. (Yes, he's wearing a pony tail. In retrospect, I should've done this for Luke's bday party and called him Cindy Lou Who.)

Pictures From April

The first time he climbed anything. And so it began.

The snake that was lying across from my car at a park. Of course, Luke insisted that we needed a picture.

 

Gotta love a sleeping baby!

Apparently, the food was taking too long...

Sometimes, this is what happens when I ask him to smile.

He was very interested in my mom's jewelry when we were in DC. He put on as many necklaces and bracelets as we would let him, and then sang "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," at the top of his lungs.

Who needs new toys when you can have the packaging that the toys came in???

Pictures from March

And as promised, here starts the onslaught of pictures.

I was looking back and realized that I haven't posted pictures since the beginning of March--could it be?! So this post has pictures from the rest of March.

Here's Luke, sitting on the engine of a train at a children's museum near us. This was taken less than four months ago, and yet, he looks so small in this picture, compared to the way he looks now.










We went to the beach in early March. We like to off-set our beach trips from the busy, summer season because (a) less crowded beaches and (b) cheaper rentals. We rented a beach house that was a block away from the beach with two other families and it was amazing. Just what we needed to get us through the remainder of the winter.

Of course, sand-tasting was a must!

I think he looks like Stitch (from Lilo & Stitch) when he wears sunglasses.

The aquarium had a "penguin day," where kids dressed up as penguins got in free. Of course, we missed it because we went the day after penguin day, but hey, I'd already made the costumes and Luke was excited about wearing them, so why not?




 

The aquarium had a petting pool. I pretended to pet the rays, but in reality, I was too chicken. Luke and McMoose, on the other hand, were not.

Strawberries for breakfast!

                    

You'll notice who had already finished all of HIS strawberries.

One afternoon, McMoose, Luke, Other Baby, and Other Daddy went off to explore the creek in our backyard. (On a related note: as soon as we saw this creek, I knew that this is the house McMoose would want to buy, specifically so he and the kids could explore it someday.)

Hello. My name is Pack Mule.

                                                        

Playing through the screen door!

There's still some baby left in him yet...

Nine!

Wow, I've had a long hiatus from blogging. And I'm sure I'll write all about the perfect storm of events that led to this hiatus over the next few days, but today? Today is all about Weston, who has now been a part of our lives for 18 months--9 on the inside and 9 on the outside.

This month, he has mastered the fine art of...climbing. And I am so not excited about this. First, he climbed a little stool at a friend's house to reach something that was out of his reach. Then, he began climbing onto Luke's bed, using the trampoline as a step. Then, he began to climb stairs. And the other day, he climbed up onto the first rung of a ladder at the playground. So. Not. Excited.

He has also been experimenting with the look-no-hands phenomenon of standing without holding onto anything. His balance is getting pretty good and he can stand for a good 10-15 seconds on his own. And when he's done, instead of toppling clumsily over, he very expertly squats back down to the ground and takes of crawling toward his next big adventure. For a baby who is so mobile and who so enjoys standing, he doesn't much care for cruising--you know, the holding onto furniture and walking around it? He far prefers crawling as his mode of Getting From One Place To Another. Standing, like climbing, is done solely for the purpose of allowing him to reach things that he otherwise could not. He did, however, take a single, unassisted step about a week ago. I am quite pleased that he doesn't seem inclined to experiment further with that form of locomotion because quite honestly, we do not need an early walker around here. He moves fast enough and gets into enough while using all of his limbs to propel himself forward--we are certainly not ready for him to have his hands free and available to open cabinets and unplug appliances WHILE he is moving forward.

He and Luke have been playing together lately and I love watching the two of them. The first time they ever really played together, they stood together and rolled trucks down the sloped roof of a playhouse. Now, Weston frequently follows his brother around and copies him. Luke, for his part, takes great pleasure in making Weston laugh and they come up with all manner of weird "games," such as "bang on the table," "crawl in circles," and "roar at each other and laugh hysterically." Of course, we also frequently hear from Luke the phrase, "Move the baby, move the baby, MOVE THE BABY," when Weston takes too much of an interest in one of Luke's "projects."

Weston continues to enjoy eating everything in sight. We spent the past week visiting my mom and because he didn't have a high chair there, he crawled around on the floor during mealtimes, alternately eating whatever I handed him and begging Luke for more interesting morsels. Luke, in turn, enjoyed peeling lima beans and smushing berries to feed to Weston.

Weston's favorite phrase is still, "Mamamamamama," but he is also beginning to say, "Dadadada" with some regularity. I'm waiting (im)patiently to see what nickname he comes up with for Luke. He also growls and whispers and groans and does this weird, staccato pretend-laugh, this "eh-eh-eh-eh," noise. He does it mostly when we (McMoose and Luke and I) are going out of our way to amuse him, but fail miserably, and so instead of just rolling his eyes at us, he politely says, "Eh-eh-eh-eh," as if to make us feel better about our failed attempts. Of course, then, we crack up and repeat that noise back to him and he grins and says it back to us and it ends up in this vicious feedback loop of goofiness.  He very much recognizes his name and whenever we call it, he turns to look at us with a huge smile.

I can hardly believe how quickly the past nine months have gone, how quickly Weston has grown from a (not so) tiny newborn to this laughing, climbing, playing baby filled with personality.

The Greater Plan

Every time I start thinking that since I'm on my second kid, things should be more predictable, I'm proven wrong. I fully expected that my two would be similar in temperament, milestones, etc. They're not, of course. I will be eternally grateful that Luke came first and that Weston came second because doing it the opposite way would have been so stressful for all involved.

Luke was so colicky early on that taking care of him took everything I had and then some. I still remember very clearly the feeling of complete hopelessness that came over me when he was about 6 weeks old, as I stood there, holding and bouncing and singing and patting my child who was screaming so persistently that his face was turning blue. I remember thinking, Oh, my God, what have we done to our lives? I remember thinking that at some point in the future, I'd look back on that day and reminisce about how small my baby had been and how short a phase that had truly been in our lives, but at the same time, that particular moment seemed to last forever.

The phase did eventually end, obviously, but...what if Luke hadn't been my first? What if I'd had an older one to care for and entertain? How would I ever have gotten through those early months on endless crying? Thank goodness Luke was my first.

And then, there's this: before Luke was born, I had a fairly good idea of how I wanted to parent...but having never done it before, I was also insecure in those choices. I wanted to breastfeed, I wanted to be very available to him at night, I wanted to be as gentle as possible, but I worried that those decisions might spoil him somehow. People warned me that if I held him all the time, he'd become overly dependent. That if I rocked or nursed him to sleep, he'd wake constantly and never self-soothe. That if we invited him into our room or our bed, we'd never get him out. Nevertheless, I held him constantly. And as soon as he could crawl, he happily played and explored on his own. I nursed and rocked and patted him to sleep. And at every stage, he let us know very clearly when he was ready to move on to the next stage of sleep independence. We let him sleep in our bed. And now, he joyfully sleeps in his bunk bed with very few bedtime protests. In fact, when I recently asked if he'd like to come sleep with me, he tried it for all of five minutes and then decided he missed his room.

But. Weston is not nearly as independent. Not yet. He plays independently, yes, he does...but not for as long as his older brother did. Once Luke was crawling, he had very little patience for being held, whereas Weston still loves a good snuggle. By this age, not only was Luke in his crib, he was also in his own room. Weston, by contrast, sleeps as close to me as he can get. Given a choice, I think he would like to be back inside me while he sleeps. He wakes up...um...a lot. I'm not entirely sure just how often, but certainly more than Luke did at this age...or at any age, for that matter. And for all of this, I'm thankful.

I can be thankful because I've done this before. I know how fast this goes. I know that in the blink of an eye, he will be telling me that he wants to play by himself, so could I please stay upstairs. Before I know it, he will be saying that he'd like to get his own snack, his own drink, his own clothes. He'll be asking for privacy, he'll want to giggle in the dark with his brother instead of snuggling with his Mama. And because I know that he will be ready for these things far sooner than I will, I'm thankful for every baby snuggle I get now. But what if Weston had been my first? What if I hadn't had that perspective to draw upon? What if I had been navigating new motherhood and carrying the burden that the way I was parenting him was making Weston need so much of me? Thank goodness Weston is my second.

More and more, I'm starting to believe that things are meant to be.

Eight!

These late night/early morning posts are kind of becoming a habit, aren't they? Probably one I should nip in the bud.

Weston turned eight months old today...uh...yesterday? Yes, I suppose that technically, it was yesterday. Over the past month, he's gotten to be a pretty fast crawler and has gotten much steadier on his feet. He's always pulling up on something and earlier in the month, the thing he was pulling up on had to be pretty stable to give him the support he needed to get to his feet, but over the past couple of days, he has started pulling up on objects that move and shift. Just today, he stood up at the coffee table and looked at me and I thought, My goodness, when did he get so TALL? It wasn't so very long ago that his head was shorter than the table and now, his entire face is above it.

He has really been enjoying life as a little brother this month. He has been interacting so much more with Luke and there have been times when I can genuinely say that they're playing together. A couple of weeks ago, there was a loud noise that scared Weston and he began fussing, but instead of crawling to me, he crawled straight to Luke for protection. These are the moments that make my soul happy.

He has also been babbling a lot more. For a while, I was concerned because he wasn't babbling "the right way," but he seems to have figured it out. He constantly follows me around, saying, "Mama, mama, mama!" I know that sounds ridiculous because eight-month-olds do not talk and in all likelihood, he's probably just making an easy consonant sound, BUT he really seems to say it TO ME. When he's upset, he crawls around in search of me and says, "Mama." I know it sounds crazy, but still, it sounds to my ears (and McMoose's ears and Luke's ears) like he's really calling for me.

I am amazed by how persistent he is. He goes for the same (forbidden) objects time and again...and by "time and again," I mean "thirty times in a row." Seriously. He thinks it's a great game to go for the electrical outlet or the dvd tower or my sewing machine cords over and over as I move him away. In fact, he frequently makes noise to get my attention, waits until I see him, and then tucks his head down and makes a beeline for the forbidden object. Something tells me that this one is going to give me a run for my money!

Every night, as I nurse him to sleep, I ask him if he feels how very much we love him and though I know he doesn't understand what I'm saying, his response is always to smile and pat my face. Maybe he does understand, after all.

Obviously

Usually, when I shower, Weston grumbles. And by "grumbles," I mean "screams at the top of his lungs." It makes for some stressful showers. (Did you know that you can get your entire body soaped and rinsed off in 27 seconds? Just in case you were wondering.)

Yesterday morning, however, I got a nice, long, peaceful shower. Weston sat in his baby seat and Luke sat beside him and they "traded" toys back and forth. I was keeping an ear on them because they were literally two feet away from me, but the glass door fogs up, as glass doors tend to do.

Imagine my surprise when I stepped out, refreshed, to find Weston...chewing...on something.

Me: What are you eating?!
Luke: It's okay, Mama. He's having a raisin.
Me: He's having a WHAT?!
Luke: A raisin. We're both eating raisins. We're sharing!
Me: I don't think he CAN eat raisins.
Luke, looking at me like I had lost my mind: Yes, he can. He's doing it right now, see?
Me: Well, no, but...What I meant...Uh...Gah! Ok. He's eating raisins. Wait. Did you share your peanut butter cereal with him, too?
Luke, speaking very slowly, as if to a particularly obtuse individual: No. Do you remember that he doesn't have any teeth?

(In Luke's defense, he was being very sweet and smushing each raisin before feeding it to "his baby," as he still refers to Weston.)

Standing Man

Here are a few more pictures from last month

This was the first time Weston pulled himself up on a piece of furniture.
Which would make this the first time he pulled up and then tried to let go. (It was soon followed by the first time he pulled up, tried to let go, and then fell on his face.)
As it turns out, standing is great fun. Especially standing and chewing on furniture. The other day, Luke observed that, "Weston is like a doggie...he just chews on everything!"
So very pleased with himself.

Winter Weather

A few weeks ago, we had our first--and presumably, last--snow of the season. It wasn't the six inches I was unrealistically hoping for, but it was about an inch and it did stick enough that we were able to go out and play in it. Usually, I get very excited about the mere possibility of snow--and usually, I'm disappointed because they always seem to predict more snow than we get. This time, the week before had been so warm and spring-like that I flat out didn't believe the forecast, so it was a very nice surprise when we actually did get snow. Luke absolutely loved the snow and stayed and played in it for far longer than I thought he would...and then, woke up the next morning and played in it some more. Raleigh being what it is, it was upward of 50 degrees that next day, so it melted much faster than he might have liked, but he did get some good snow play in while he could.

I told him to find a winter hat...this is what he came up with.
Weston: dressed, ready, and utterly unimpressed.
Why, yes, I did borrow McMoose's ludicrously puffy jacket. And why not?
McMoose let Weston feel the snow. I believe his reaction was, "I am touching something cold and wet. I do not approve."

There wasn't enough on the ground at this point to make a decent snowball, so Luke just got some off the cars instead.
McMoose's rendition of a firebird. Quite the artist, that one.
I'm not sure who brought the bucket out--I suspect it was McMoose. But making snow castles was great fun, according to Luke. Step One: Run crazy circles around the car, collecting snow in a bucket:
Step Two: Plop!
And not pictured here is Step Three, which is also known as The Most Fun Step: Stomp!