tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68468171456747955062024-02-07T22:13:59.276-08:00'Til Death Do Us PartAverage 20-something. Married. New baby. Happy? Mostly. Life, marriage, love, sex and a stream-of-consciousness-style quest to sort it all out.Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-24252872711351746062010-09-08T21:40:00.000-07:002010-09-08T22:12:16.132-07:00Sunshine and RosesThis weekend, some of my college girls are coming into town for our annual, uh... meet up? get together? drunken fest of YouTube worthy footage that reminds us of the good times? Yep. That's the one. I am ridiculously excited. A weekend without the baby <span style="font-style: italic;">(who has been SUCH a sweet little man lately, by the way, it almost makes me sad to leave him - almost)</span>. And although a weekend without the baby would be equally good spent with the hubs (better in some ways, perhaps!), pretending I don't have a care in the world - and then flashing my ring to some guy who's giving me the eye - sounds like a pretty damn good way to spend a few days. Never mind work at the shop is INSANE this week and we have a piece of equipment down. Grrr.<br /><br />Anywho... Our organizer this year sent out the "let's get our shit together email" at the beginning of the week, aptly titled, "Booze and What Not." Some of us responded with the usual - "Booze. Yes. What Not? Bring it on. Pole dancing, anyone?" and such. One reply-all came from our friend who had a baby three months ago. She said she was, "...totally going to flake like I said I never would." Honestly? I took a big, deep breath for her knowing exactly where she was coming from <span style="font-style: italic;">(and at the same time, I kind of thought, "Thank God! If she had been so organized to be able to make this trip [at least a 4 hour drive for her] after only 3 months as a new mom, I would have felt like such a loser!" - remember me? Paralyzed to leave the house to even go to the grocery store for, oh, I don't know - 3 months after having a baby?)</span>. For the record, she is rockin' it. Back to work, pumping, feeding... My kid is almost a year and a half old, and I am only now able to make it out of the house <span style="font-style: italic;">on time</span> with no help from Mike - if I start 2 hours before we have to leave, mind you, but I can do it now.<br /><br />So, I got to thinking about those days - and these days. Those days when I would think, "You know, if I just kept driving, maybe I could leave it all behind." But I never had enough cash. Let alone enough in savings, to disappear, and above all, just thinking about leaving it all behind made no sense. I'd have to make it work. Shuffle priorities. Change plans at a moment's notice. Go. With. The. Flow. And sometimes, the flow meant changing plans, or canceling plans and staying home (grudgingly, tearfully and foot stompingly. What? That's totally a word). And then these days. Where sometimes I'm awakened by Joey saying, "MA MA!" instead of incessant yelling. Or the rare, glorious, days that I wake on my own. After 8am. And my boys are both still sleeping. And you know what? As hard as it can get sometimes - especially with Mike's work schedule - <span style="font-style: italic;">I appreciate it</span>. From Joey - A new word. A new sign. A funny face or non-stop laughter. From Mike - A touch. A moment alone - together. A kiss. A hug. A night where we don't care how late we stay up. A night where the TV goes off early...<br /><br />It wasn't all easy. There's work still to do. Are there things I would change over the last year and a half? I won't lie. Absolutely. Have I learned a lot about myself? About my marriage and my husband? Absolutely. Would I change that? Absolutely not.<br /><br />Hang in there girl. It's all worth it.Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-23455347612872485412010-08-12T20:26:00.000-07:002010-08-12T20:39:26.628-07:00Why I love MikeHoly hell, it's been forever since I posted. I swear to you, I have 2 or 3 posts saved as drafts... obviously never got finished. Anyway, let's start back slow.<br /><br />So about six weeks ago, I started taking an exercise class. And I'm not talking about just any exercise class. My brother calls it "stripper-cise." I call it the most fun I've ever had getting sweaty and sore. OK, I guess I can think of some other fun ways to get sweaty, but I digress. Anywho, This class isn't your run-of-the-mill, let's all train to be strippers class. It's an intense, sexy floor workout (I mean intense - the ab sequence alone is killer), followed by instruction on the pole. Can you say FUN? It's women only, and it's all about becoming comfortable in your own body - feeling sexy, even.<br /><br />I'm just about to complete level one, and will be continuing on to level two. In level two, you are invited to wear <a href="http://www.zappos.com/pleaser-usa-kiss-209-black-black">6" stilettos</a>. (They are optional. Booty shorts, on the other hand, are not, but that's a different post altogether.)<br /><br />Okay, back to the point. Of course, I opted to go with the shoes. What? They're hot! I ordered 2 pairs in a size 7 & 8. They day of delivery, I checked the tracking number, and saw that they were out for delivery. Hooray! Three of my favorite words: Out for delivery. Unfortunately, I had to head to work before UPS arrived, but while sitting at my desk, I received the following text from Mike:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Your shoes are here. Box was open so driver wanted me to check delivery. He was looking @ me like some cross dressing perv. Haha."</span><br /><br />How many guys do you know that would finish that text with, "Haha." Love.Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-88573255427372094862010-04-27T15:52:00.000-07:002010-04-27T16:18:04.643-07:00OK, I'm doing it.Endorsing a product, that is.<br /><br />A while back, I posted about the <a href="http://our-married-life.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-things-you-need.html">things I needed most</a> (or wished I'd had) when I brought Joey home. I haven't had an "OH CRAP, I HOPE THEY CAN SHIP THAT OVERNIGHT" moment in quite a while, but when Mike insisted we wean Joey off the bottle - and Joey promptly decided he wouldn't drink cow's milk out of anything but - I was desperate to find a solution. I posted on Facebook asking fellow moms what they did to get their little ones to give up the bottle and latch onto the cup. I was determined not to give up - I know, I know, we don't really <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">need</span> to drink cow's milk, but it is a good source of nutrition and, if nothing else, a quick, healthy snack in a pinch <span style="font-style: italic;">(read: do not leave me comments about how cow's milk is bad for you/there are healthier alternatives/it was unnecessary to wean my 13 month old off the bottle so soon/yadda yadda yadda).</span><br /><br />Anyway, I got recommendations ranging from Ovaltine (tried it, didn't work) to just give him milk, and nothing else, and eventually he'll have to drink it. Well, I didn't feel like going through 3 days of hell and dehydrating my sick toddler in the process, so I went for the middle ground. A good friend of mine recommended the <a href="http://www.newbornfree.com/pics/bornfree/index_trainers.htm">Born Free Trainer Cup</a>. We had tried cups with all sorts of spouts, straws... and so had she. She said this was the only thing that worked. I'd try anything, so I ordered it immediately (<span style="font-style: italic;">there is no store within 100 miles of us that carries them! Why, why, why?)</span> When the cup arrived yesterday, I was optimistic. Joey wasn't in the best mood, but I put a little milk in it, warmed it up, and tried sitting with him and giving him his new "ba ba." He wasn't buying it. In fact, he was downright pissed. He'd take a few sucks, then push it away and cry. Oh. No. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">FAILURE!</span> But I wouldn't give up.<br /><br />I waited a little while, gave him a snack, and then we sat on the floor and played. I put the cup near him so he could try it if he wanted to. A little while later, I saw him reaching for it. I didn't want to make a peep! He took a couple sucks, looked at it, and then started chugging! I was amazed, and hoped it wasn't a fluke. Nope! No fluke. Since yesterday, he's been drinking out of <a href="http://www.newbornfree.com/pics/bornfree/index_trainers.htm">the new cup</a> with no complaints.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnwLX7R-hkBw443vSSSijcayCoPM3irsQ45RLeWxjd6LmlX4KSXYjy72qS0NRJMCHnNfy5EtSX-b4_3Z348WO4V3TpYgw-3vjMn0_rSVIz50MpsJYSG9ypK-Ij7z0v_ThiLIvmTiMNVE/s1600/0426001721.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnwLX7R-hkBw443vSSSijcayCoPM3irsQ45RLeWxjd6LmlX4KSXYjy72qS0NRJMCHnNfy5EtSX-b4_3Z348WO4V3TpYgw-3vjMn0_rSVIz50MpsJYSG9ypK-Ij7z0v_ThiLIvmTiMNVE/s320/0426001721.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5464960069344489394" border="0" /></a>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-35564933873969997052010-04-20T19:54:00.001-07:002010-04-20T20:55:36.897-07:00I Guess We're ThereI'm going to be <strike>30</strike> 29 again this year. I wouldn't say I'm freaking out about it, but I just keep going, "Really? <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Really?</span> We're here already?" I guess I still feel like I'm 25 (although I definitely don't look like I did when I was 25 - you know, 25 pounds lighter, great tan, hair always styled, make-up fresh, well rested - er, didn't need as much rest). I'm wondering where the time went. Friends have gotten married, some are having kids (some have more than one), and, yes, some are having plastic surgery. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"><br /><br />Really?</span><br /><br />Yes, really.<br /><br />I guess we <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">are</span> there.<br /><br />Over the last four or five years, it wouldn't be a stretch to say my life has changed dramatically. I started dating the man that would eventually be my husband, got "let go" from the first<span style="font-style: italic;"> real</span> job I ever had (I was about to quit anyway - I know everyone that gets fired says that, but in this case, I swear to baby Jesus it's true), I landed my dream job cooking at <a href="http://www.blackcatbistro.com">The Black Cat Bistro</a> (and didn't care one bit that I was working nights, weekends and, if it hadn't been for Mike, wouldn't have been able to pay my bills), left the Cat to open a business with my dad (good and bad - <span style="font-style: italic;">man I miss that crazy kitchen</span>), got married, got pregnant (we're still wondering <a href="http://our-married-life.blogspot.com/2008/08/knocked-up.html">how that happened</a>), had a baby... I'm not really sure I have a point to all this, but I guess I just wish it would all slow down. Just a little. For like a week even. So we can enjoy it all.<br /><br />Since becoming a mom, people constantly ask, "When are you having another one?" Sometimes it's tongue-in-cheek, but most of the time it seems like people are serious. For the record, we're not planning on having another. When I tell people that, it's like I just dumped one of Joey's diapers out on their dinner plate. The usual response is, "Oh! You'll change your mind, just wait!" And sometimes - fleeting moments, mind you - I think they're right. I think I'll change my mind. And then I lose another night of sleep, or miss out on something because Joey can't miss his naps, or I have to tell a customer that I won't be able to do what I promised them until tomorrow... Sounds uber selfish, right? Don't get me wrong - I love being Joey's mom. And I usually want to (and sometimes do) answer the, "When are you having another one?" question with, "Can't I just enjoy the one I have?" I'm not one to sugarcoat what being a mom means. Are there innumerable good things to go along with the lost sleep, missed events, huge life changes? Absolutely. I wouldn't give them up for the world. But I'm also not going to walk around telling every married woman they should start production before their baby factory shuts down for good.<br /><br />I struggle daily with striking a balance between being a wife, being a mom and a friend. And any woman who says she doesn't is lying to herself, completely delusional, or deserves the Nobel Prize and needs to write several books (and put them on tape, or iTunes, or better yet, flashcards) and give them away for free when you apply for a marriage license and/or leave the hospital with a baby. I dunno, I guess I'm just waiting for the day when people around me just get tired of waiting for me to find that balance. And some days, I worry I won't find it until Joey leaves for college.<br /><br />Right now, I should be cleaning my house, or writing thank you notes for Joey's birthday gifts, or working on a project to get ahead for tomorrow. But I think I'm just going to enjoy the silence of the house, take a hot shower and maybe have a glass of wine. Balance.Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-59405788915204037252010-04-09T21:14:00.000-07:002010-04-09T21:37:55.016-07:00The CakeI mentioned in Joey's <a href="http://our-married-life.blogspot.com/2010/04/one-year.html">one year update</a> that I made his birthday cake. I set myself up for total failure by finding <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/schneiderclan/3623110701/">this cake</a> online, deciding to duplicate it for Joey's party, and telling all my Tweeps and Facebook friends what I was up to. But you know what? I didn't fail! It came out awesome, if I do say so myself, and I didn't even say the eff-word once. Really, ask Mike.<br /><br />The tutorial for making the cars on top came from <a href="http://www.cakejournal.com/archives/how-to-make-a-race-car-cake-topper">CakeJournal</a> and I pretty much just winged the rest (referring to photos from <a href="http://sarabakescakes.blogspot.com/2009/06/happy-birthday-max.html">Sara Bakes Cakes</a> the whole way through). The cake and frosting recipes came from Zoe Bakes, and they were just divine: <a href="http://zoebakes.com/?p=165">Not Your Average Devil's Food</a> and <a href="http://zoebakes.com/?p=573">Outrageous Mocha Buttercream</a>. I used the Wilton recipe to make my own <a href="http://www.wilton.com/recipe/Rolled-Marshmallow-Fondant">marshmallow fondant</a> (this stuff actually tastes good, too!) which covered the whole cake after it was iced, and was used to make the black checkers that circle the cake and a few pieces of the gumpaste cars. For the "dirt" track, I tossed the scraps from trimming the domes off of the baked cakes into the food processor to make crumbs.<br /><br />Without further ado, the cake:<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvOZuL3OnXnswadAj8fevGJf8F0tT91TD8o9t-IW5RTWwJHKoczqihYklA2-oWUIQmqj0PmFXdhgeSXWqv1Z33flbRzR4B30qnlNWkwZFx8aexlgmP1sS5eTcDFGlyx8DgBMrWydaeYk/s1600/DSCN0507.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qv_VhCsjCRxKrutR9sOcr3dpoS_mEhGqTcJuszT0YcF8gQgvX8aEcc7yGw6nziYtxCxXffx347WfZlaknmM1vW2O5LtaCDZSv0-cUr_luoCRLZwR33Q7XHtPv9TYgthmOyRWXS6y4DM/s1600/DSCN0501.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2qv_VhCsjCRxKrutR9sOcr3dpoS_mEhGqTcJuszT0YcF8gQgvX8aEcc7yGw6nziYtxCxXffx347WfZlaknmM1vW2O5LtaCDZSv0-cUr_luoCRLZwR33Q7XHtPv9TYgthmOyRWXS6y4DM/s320/DSCN0501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458361882448341074" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvOZuL3OnXnswadAj8fevGJf8F0tT91TD8o9t-IW5RTWwJHKoczqihYklA2-oWUIQmqj0PmFXdhgeSXWqv1Z33flbRzR4B30qnlNWkwZFx8aexlgmP1sS5eTcDFGlyx8DgBMrWydaeYk/s1600/DSCN0507.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvOZuL3OnXnswadAj8fevGJf8F0tT91TD8o9t-IW5RTWwJHKoczqihYklA2-oWUIQmqj0PmFXdhgeSXWqv1Z33flbRzR4B30qnlNWkwZFx8aexlgmP1sS5eTcDFGlyx8DgBMrWydaeYk/s320/DSCN0507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458361893468592066" border="0" /></a>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-46372079350577235182010-04-09T20:55:00.001-07:002010-04-09T21:13:28.640-07:00Then and Now<span style="font-style: italic;">Or "Our Married Life by Katie DiSimone"</span><br /><br />We were referred to <a href="http://www.katiedisimone.com/">Katie DiSimone</a> by our friend <a href="http://www.quietdowncobwebs.com/">Meghan</a> when we were planning our wedding. Katie shot our engagement photos and <a href="http://www.katiedisimone.com/blog/2007/10/wedding-annie-and-mike-paso-robles/">our wedding</a>. She is an amazing person, and an incredible photographer (I swear, she can make <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">anyone</span> feel comfortable in front of a camera), and after the wedding we stayed in touch. When Joey was born, she visited us in the the hospital and graciously <a href="http://www.katiedisimone.com/blog/2009/03/baby-joey-is-here/">brought her camera along</a>. She even called me when she was on her way there to ask me if I needed anything from Starbuck's - I mean, how awesome is that!<br /><br />So, when Joey turned one, we contacted Katie to document <a href="http://www.katiedisimone.com/blog/2010/04/children-joey/">our next chapter</a>. It just amazes me to look at the photos she took when Joey was only two days old next to his one-year shots:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2PtA_WTVYKPfCzu7VPy_hXJmARBbWOug2dKngAMjqiEtMbbBn1J2htdcbe9r4qVe4ZhBRQr02-78rynCKdMjPn3Xs65lsFZknTcbthAYPDLgpJEh7hYtIbL2WqzksluHYerOYzY1BB4/s1600/img_4318.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB2PtA_WTVYKPfCzu7VPy_hXJmARBbWOug2dKngAMjqiEtMbbBn1J2htdcbe9r4qVe4ZhBRQr02-78rynCKdMjPn3Xs65lsFZknTcbthAYPDLgpJEh7hYtIbL2WqzksluHYerOYzY1BB4/s400/img_4318.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458355795679256306" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8Pqe3shqzuD4Iu5YrdGFcKRH-HszKe9gs8c1sX_HmOKJEN5J7wmLyXZmP6WpLycUJA021MMqYTX1vcdDoi7J4XhrxnHPxkbeJDp5v9mYnLwY14buIJyo9V1MZQbyNFNFMhSib6ZmmLE/s1600/joey011.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv8Pqe3shqzuD4Iu5YrdGFcKRH-HszKe9gs8c1sX_HmOKJEN5J7wmLyXZmP6WpLycUJA021MMqYTX1vcdDoi7J4XhrxnHPxkbeJDp5v9mYnLwY14buIJyo9V1MZQbyNFNFMhSib6ZmmLE/s400/joey011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458356182955637138" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.katiedisimone.com"><span style="font-size:78%;">Photos Copyright Katie DiSimone 2010</span></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Thank you, Katie!<br /></div></div>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-53078665431638417322010-04-09T20:55:00.000-07:002010-04-09T21:02:36.868-07:00One YearDear Joey,<br /><br />About a week and a half ago, you turned one year old. One. Year. My God, where did it all go? I swear, I feel like I remember bits and pieces of your first few months - all in a sleep-deprived haze. Then, all of a sudden, I was back to work (you tagging along with me) and time sped up even more. Even after a whole year, there are still days when I feel like I am doing it all wrong, and others when I feel like I am the best mom in the world. I wish I could give you more of the latter, and something tells me I will never be able to shake that desire. You are unpredictable, yet predictable. Totally benign, and yet completely volatile. You are an entertainer and a goof, and you are sensitive beyond belief.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V46I9Ph08YMzBvLef5YPRBQhJozq7wF7lkqnac4xn-GWP1tWBeRdN93M6XdyB7kt3tMJmcfplPx6_bN3DYJ0awEumHbJjaBtcKDv0l5s7ugBs5-3Qyk-H5UDFHGSkYDqIGiL8sEqPvE/s1600/DSCN0303.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V46I9Ph08YMzBvLef5YPRBQhJozq7wF7lkqnac4xn-GWP1tWBeRdN93M6XdyB7kt3tMJmcfplPx6_bN3DYJ0awEumHbJjaBtcKDv0l5s7ugBs5-3Qyk-H5UDFHGSkYDqIGiL8sEqPvE/s320/DSCN0303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458204204075066994" border="0" /></a><br />I must admit, I have spent many days over the past year wondering when I would "get my <span style="font-style: italic;">old</span> life back." I would think I would see glimpses of it here and there when we would have a successful outing (all errands done without a meltdown), or I finished an entire cup of coffee while it was still hot... But I only just recently realized that this <span style="font-style: italic;">is</span> my life - no <span style="font-style: italic;">old</span> or <span style="font-style: italic;">new</span>. You. Daddy. The three of us. It is not a <span style="font-style: italic;">new</span> life, simply the next phase of the one I had been living all along. Yes, it is <a href="http://our-married-life.blogspot.com/2008/08/knocked-up.html">different than what I had originally expected</a>, but it is good. <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">SO</span> good. Sometimes I have to stop, and take a breath, and just enjoy it. Not worry about what I have going on at work, or how much of your lunch you did (or did not, as is usually the case) eat. Just stop and enjoy you and daddy laughing and playing in the living room, cracking each other up, each teaching the other a thing or two (like where you can find your tongue, for instance).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Tugkeo6ohN5sw4md821-e3pAVt8FJYdBGsTdzxnLVZ-lCxCdlKXstK9yOIwba6OiOn0sjdMJ_uBDlFsnX6cy4I8dIWYEdwFo4yaKnuH_Q3iLz05flNm6p4BBWNUL1JmnQGuJZi5dD9Y/s1600/DSCN0313.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Tugkeo6ohN5sw4md821-e3pAVt8FJYdBGsTdzxnLVZ-lCxCdlKXstK9yOIwba6OiOn0sjdMJ_uBDlFsnX6cy4I8dIWYEdwFo4yaKnuH_Q3iLz05flNm6p4BBWNUL1JmnQGuJZi5dD9Y/s320/DSCN0313.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458351424159359090" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuDjdDb1XWDa5K-3T-ms9k8DQ_OXXwZp0DCtf8K9_wy83Y7sdl-fB9Q7Ppe3ubh_tnWcEILXggj8bm8R9L2_XBldrg0b124dsbSAe0BAMsmJADV052V4yP9VVCyQ8QYfzXR5zgLKjMUM/s1600/DSCN0307.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsuDjdDb1XWDa5K-3T-ms9k8DQ_OXXwZp0DCtf8K9_wy83Y7sdl-fB9Q7Ppe3ubh_tnWcEILXggj8bm8R9L2_XBldrg0b124dsbSAe0BAMsmJADV052V4yP9VVCyQ8QYfzXR5zgLKjMUM/s320/DSCN0307.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458204216409438610" border="0" /></a><br />Your personality is amazing. You really don't have a "medium speed." You are either asleep, or going on all cylinders. Sometimes I joke with daddy (in my terrible impersonation of the guy from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0088258/"><span style="font-style: italic;">This is Spinal Tap</span></a>) "This one goes to eleven!" You hardly ever stop moving - you seem to know that if you stop moving, you just might fall asleep and miss something. Perpetual motion.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmGRlCraPwK_GW2fH4HNeXg5rxrxGC8BlzEmW4PSVgTBYCW_ToxCe8ddEeNhCoAwQx0lAJchwgiB5QR1S2MhOQL7eTTpnH_YJL808y7-tEU0tg9MoVsjM6Lqaa0Ms_aIjC7OWFhl61bc/s1600/DSCN0435.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPmGRlCraPwK_GW2fH4HNeXg5rxrxGC8BlzEmW4PSVgTBYCW_ToxCe8ddEeNhCoAwQx0lAJchwgiB5QR1S2MhOQL7eTTpnH_YJL808y7-tEU0tg9MoVsjM6Lqaa0Ms_aIjC7OWFhl61bc/s320/DSCN0435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458204222288416706" border="0" /></a><br />You now have a molar. I had been keeping an eye on your bottom right gums for a couple weeks. There was a big swollen spot, and I was sure the tooth would pop through any day. And then the swelling went down. No tooth. But the other day, daddy had you squealing with laughter on the couch, and that's when I saw it. On the top! You are still quite a trooper when you are teething. Perhaps it is because you got your first teeth when you were only 4 months old - been there, done that.<br /><br />Perhaps the biggest news this month: <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">you are walking!</span> Everywhere. Once you figured it out, there was no stopping you. You walk laps around the kitchen island, carry monkey around the house, and follow us around tugging at our pant legs. Oh yes, and the first steps you took: I cried. I was so incredibly proud of you, and a little sad to know that my baby really is growing up. Fast. <span style="font-style: italic;">You are officially a toddler now.</span> Oh, and did I mention you can whistle? You are definitely the only toddler <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">I</span> know that can do that!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeTWYu1CBZr7xiuNV2PSH_9zzMgUOydMWjWilTfG7wFt7c-6XhXi-ET7Xl1FnxFityWSZkepaN-hqFCeUOWJuJI7OKfMViFs5aX0dPsGQd-xsLI2TcR3XhXZRwh0zmyMIiGd-jgRMyQM/s1600/DSCN0543.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeTWYu1CBZr7xiuNV2PSH_9zzMgUOydMWjWilTfG7wFt7c-6XhXi-ET7Xl1FnxFityWSZkepaN-hqFCeUOWJuJI7OKfMViFs5aX0dPsGQd-xsLI2TcR3XhXZRwh0zmyMIiGd-jgRMyQM/s320/DSCN0543.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458205765323214674" border="0" /></a><br />You haven't really said your "first word" yet - although you babble a lot, and we think we catch things in there. You still say DADA, only it is usually still followed by more dadadadada's. You will mouth things, but no sound comes out - like the words are on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to pour out (and I have a feeling once they start, they won't stop!) Although, the other day when I picked you up at grandma and grandpa's house, we are pretty sure you tried to say "Ruby" (as in Ruby the dog). What we heard was "Roobuh" - close enough if you ask me! You also say "BA" whenever you see a ball or a balloon - again, close enough! You are starting to pick up on a few signs we've been trying to teach you (more, drink, all done), but you have added your own twist to each one (and you make up your own). You get your point across though, so I guess that's what matters in the end!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzatWJEB-pVRB7EP5fMBZYvXFOxCiqJX0RXLxfRGjzpCUthbVJAyKvEUU-8gS_NZ5W76aIiGbySOAgUQd_ovWTG5zj-2LvLmM9tyYDCDoEnmMr021OvtdoaIkvbpSPfRBkIXryegvZW9A/s1600/DSCN0276.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzatWJEB-pVRB7EP5fMBZYvXFOxCiqJX0RXLxfRGjzpCUthbVJAyKvEUU-8gS_NZ5W76aIiGbySOAgUQd_ovWTG5zj-2LvLmM9tyYDCDoEnmMr021OvtdoaIkvbpSPfRBkIXryegvZW9A/s320/DSCN0276.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458204193772126194" border="0" /></a><br />We celebrated your first birthday with family and friends the Saturday before your actual birthday. I was surprisingly calm the week of your party, considering I had given myself the monumental task of baking your first birthday cake. But baking a cake? What's the big deal? Well, my inspiration was <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/schneiderclan/3623110701/">a cake I found on the internet</a>. And I manged to announce to everyone that I was going to try to make it. No pressure or anything. Well, I planned my week, finished a cake task or two every night, and it came out great! I didn't even swear. Not once! Ask daddy. We kept your party simple - grandpa and uncle Ben grilled burgers, grandma made her famous Portuguese beans and awesome salsa (you ate a bowl full of guacamole with her salsa mixed in, and then proceeded to toot for the rest of the day), and I made a pasta and fruit salads. You got lots of wonderful gifts - and, as we expected, you enjoyed playing with the boxes and wrapping paper the most. Your great uncle Milt even gave you a Wienermobile! You love to sit in it, make car noises, and honk the horn. By the time everyone left, you were absolutely exhausted. I managed to get you to take a quick nap, and then you proceeded to stay up until 10pm.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNeTWYu1CBZr7xiuNV2PSH_9zzMgUOydMWjWilTfG7wFt7c-6XhXi-ET7Xl1FnxFityWSZkepaN-hqFCeUOWJuJI7OKfMViFs5aX0dPsGQd-xsLI2TcR3XhXZRwh0zmyMIiGd-jgRMyQM/s1600/DSCN0543.JPG"><br /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3b6VWooKayHYVCOj6zvenNAXJS_QMErCXn3kNMQNJMzRsl8NTLs1E2ScIBzSmHPoScXjf6_7Sh9CVoEXNerbQxyDuGfeSfORu9EFAbZjcZSYbBvBKzu9U79TS9Huku1A9m5U49pQNg2M/s1600/DSCN0530.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3b6VWooKayHYVCOj6zvenNAXJS_QMErCXn3kNMQNJMzRsl8NTLs1E2ScIBzSmHPoScXjf6_7Sh9CVoEXNerbQxyDuGfeSfORu9EFAbZjcZSYbBvBKzu9U79TS9Huku1A9m5U49pQNg2M/s320/DSCN0530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458204233280387682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HAfZVaIkKuH7nUO9DuQyjBYrMHMLKKW_j1UmvF7dn507ZTUaR3kEXZ7pOE6zHL4jlYcB_vWWS1lCBHfzaDPprW8EtEPUVncmPfrnjolRZyVGr_Grxnfmi4nduyOJ_37OfQxV-ozM0kY/s1600/DSCN0539.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9HAfZVaIkKuH7nUO9DuQyjBYrMHMLKKW_j1UmvF7dn507ZTUaR3kEXZ7pOE6zHL4jlYcB_vWWS1lCBHfzaDPprW8EtEPUVncmPfrnjolRZyVGr_Grxnfmi4nduyOJ_37OfQxV-ozM0kY/s320/DSCN0539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458205755412791762" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduNXxwrM3dce5-Qw6Dp7zGbpS336VStMQGXzO8t77xpibFTIlbyYs7mbgYb9wOIx5OAEyiN0vdEbCLk1Xk9L-Kjm-TbWrvmYmJ7IPEL-YKdXrfbQpKU8vL2HiXLfon9GVCh6c2omMrBc/s1600/DSCN0573.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiduNXxwrM3dce5-Qw6Dp7zGbpS336VStMQGXzO8t77xpibFTIlbyYs7mbgYb9wOIx5OAEyiN0vdEbCLk1Xk9L-Kjm-TbWrvmYmJ7IPEL-YKdXrfbQpKU8vL2HiXLfon9GVCh6c2omMrBc/s320/DSCN0573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458205778325114322" border="0" /></a><br />I planned to spend all day with you on your actual birthday - playing, going to the park, maybe even going to the beach. But when I woke up, my plans changed. I had come down with the stomach flu, and had to call daddy to come home from work. I was so sad that all I could do was lay in bed. It was supposed to be our day together. But, daddy took you to the park (I think twice!), and fed you lunch, and I came out to help with naps as much as I could. It was kind of funny, it almost felt like we had just brought you home from the hospital - daddy taking care of both of us, making sure I was OK, had things to eat and drink if I wanted them, and that you were warm, fed, rested, and happy, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPxoJx0lumjyKUhPxNVVQVvVBl7UQqad-59dOqA76EGnHyZ8QVIde199q4FKviwCxL0adp6Z6tx7i-0LRpN7TI_qU7t7yjziexMLNmdkUiq2tqvsy53-dRl0NIqBzqMhTM_xVgnHSn1Q/s1600/DSCN0592.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNPxoJx0lumjyKUhPxNVVQVvVBl7UQqad-59dOqA76EGnHyZ8QVIde199q4FKviwCxL0adp6Z6tx7i-0LRpN7TI_qU7t7yjziexMLNmdkUiq2tqvsy53-dRl0NIqBzqMhTM_xVgnHSn1Q/s320/DSCN0592.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458205792129907138" border="0" /></a><br />This past year has brought more change to our lives in such a short period, it is incredible to even think about it. I have learned a lot about myself. I have learned a lot about daddy. And I have learned a lot about <span style="font-style: italic;">us</span>, about communication and about patience. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: This is the most difficult, but most rewarding job I have ever had. Thank goodness it allows for on-the-job training!<br /><br />We love you so much, baby, and we can't wait to watch you continue to grow and change each day. You are an amazing little person, and we are so proud we get to be your mom and dad.<br /><br />Love and kisses,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-68029959439529821252010-04-01T10:04:00.000-07:002010-04-01T10:11:30.329-07:00Happy Birthday, Baby!My little man turned one on Monday... and I spent the whole day (and the next) in bed or on the couch - or running back and forth from the bathroom - recovering from the stomach flu. Definitely not how I wanted to spend such a special day.<br /><br />The big birthday post will be coming soon! In the mean time, here's the one photo I managed to snap of Joey on his actual birthday before my tummy made other plans for me... Did I just say "tummy?" Yep, I'm definitely a mom.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQfYt4IR5ML9KqUHzoPFbNmsgrJQSGwV3pVoYTipwmxUDO4LsjqoDnoDeoskII6oFNYKH_TWvRM1lbGrDf0rBpm0puYzd2CXmK496LrEcJ4dCkWser5BVFnRfixD44lXwvS5jfacWy3w/s1600/DSCN0597.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQfYt4IR5ML9KqUHzoPFbNmsgrJQSGwV3pVoYTipwmxUDO4LsjqoDnoDeoskII6oFNYKH_TWvRM1lbGrDf0rBpm0puYzd2CXmK496LrEcJ4dCkWser5BVFnRfixD44lXwvS5jfacWy3w/s320/DSCN0597.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455217266443159858" border="0" /></a><br />We love you, baby!Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-73759674246509594412010-03-14T12:24:00.000-07:002010-03-16T15:53:16.886-07:00Eleven MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />About two weeks ago, you turned eleven months old. I can't believe that this time a year ago, we were anxiously (and nervously) anticipating your arrival. You and I went for a walk today along the same route I took last year in the days before you were born.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Kpi0XvFXGyndkLciCWmpL2YrrISLvKfE1D6H9sSoA7710DQKhy2jESoiJDtp2UTSQ57vKnI_dubhXSgikzwKDs2OJ_4dHN4wVwjdzdl7OYy7OT-PdyBkMNN6N9Q6Eg2JSZnfuuXdzNI/s1600-h/DSCN0082.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Kpi0XvFXGyndkLciCWmpL2YrrISLvKfE1D6H9sSoA7710DQKhy2jESoiJDtp2UTSQ57vKnI_dubhXSgikzwKDs2OJ_4dHN4wVwjdzdl7OYy7OT-PdyBkMNN6N9Q6Eg2JSZnfuuXdzNI/s320/DSCN0082.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449367281007734450" border="0" /></a><br />You are changing so much from day to day, it is hard to keep up! We had quite a busy month. You went to a couple parties - one for our friend Brooklyn's first birthday, and one for Valentine's day - and we took a trip to the Bay Area for your cousin's baptism. You absolutely LOVE going to parties - even if they are not for you! Daddy and I laugh, because whenever there are a lot of people around, you put on what we like to call "The Joey Show." You dance, wave, and play peek-a-boo with anyone that will participate. Even if you haven't had a nap, as long as there is someone for you to entertain, you are in a good mood - you love to make people laugh, and boy, do we laugh A LOT!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0OuZU7l-LeIfrotC0mTD1NQOpVW-rmA5j9UpJPi_2LZn4dpjPQdpHssCKoKLYY_xQXp5sIsUoeGRIUzf4kL3xyE0nHdjrvAQRX5n5W8I2A53yrKWS4h_ku4pqtn2DM5jjmtZiaHoJ8Y/s1600-h/DSCN0054.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD0OuZU7l-LeIfrotC0mTD1NQOpVW-rmA5j9UpJPi_2LZn4dpjPQdpHssCKoKLYY_xQXp5sIsUoeGRIUzf4kL3xyE0nHdjrvAQRX5n5W8I2A53yrKWS4h_ku4pqtn2DM5jjmtZiaHoJ8Y/s320/DSCN0054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449367267001660882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybJJ_Z3qAQ5A4b03-lJg1Hr7XyOzvLmRJeEdGzC12gSc84P3iH2XwjyDZg7TPWYWNZfmsXl2t_Jwumbcw4_CW90OfttsWJdtCeI9wyY7RrGNG0QiVOJJ1-qMKFrVztBj7LWlQrnxd-tI/s1600-h/100_4217.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiybJJ_Z3qAQ5A4b03-lJg1Hr7XyOzvLmRJeEdGzC12gSc84P3iH2XwjyDZg7TPWYWNZfmsXl2t_Jwumbcw4_CW90OfttsWJdtCeI9wyY7RrGNG0QiVOJJ1-qMKFrVztBj7LWlQrnxd-tI/s320/100_4217.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449367258202439122" border="0" /></a><br />You are still making all sorts of sounds. I'm not talking about your typical "baby babble" either. You still make the sound where you roll your R's, among others, but most surprising is that you whistle! I don't really know where you picked this up (maybe watching grandma blow bubbles?) but you do it most often when you are jumping up and down in your crib or dancing. It is hilarious, and we can't get enough of it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNcRqivEpzs2RiNHJHNWDPsTSBM0vU1TAEM8Zc5NsJb0ARIb7VYO92G-Dir8jYL_Ss3zwrArkygSzxwu7I1N8hEbDuxzOHWl1GdakaRTgD6vjffahRdrbTCY-cfq7aZGW9rWRQbifw8Bg/s1600-h/DSCN0112.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNcRqivEpzs2RiNHJHNWDPsTSBM0vU1TAEM8Zc5NsJb0ARIb7VYO92G-Dir8jYL_Ss3zwrArkygSzxwu7I1N8hEbDuxzOHWl1GdakaRTgD6vjffahRdrbTCY-cfq7aZGW9rWRQbifw8Bg/s320/DSCN0112.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449367287308243506" border="0" /></a><br />You seem to be starting to find words. You have gone from "dadadadada" to "DA DA," but we are still not positive you are relating the word to daddy. You say "BA," and I'm almost certain you are trying to say "ball," although "BA" has become your universal call for just about anything you really like (grandma says you crawl around, look over your shoulder for her, and say "BA!" as if to say, "Come on, grandma, let's go!" I think today, you may have even said "Bye bye!"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCThBYYLemAIEy3glPcDAJ0mN7m4a5_rB67kXhCHbyi2bgoMG_pUtX6htaZBDxKao0fXakkj1gOvnLZalEEZyDmbWn2zTfbKwt1cdImtXC56t2nRcqj5xwfO9W6wNGO2YlJs98sbPvVkc/s1600-h/DSCN0170.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCThBYYLemAIEy3glPcDAJ0mN7m4a5_rB67kXhCHbyi2bgoMG_pUtX6htaZBDxKao0fXakkj1gOvnLZalEEZyDmbWn2zTfbKwt1cdImtXC56t2nRcqj5xwfO9W6wNGO2YlJs98sbPvVkc/s320/DSCN0170.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449368370117093810" border="0" /></a><br />A couple weekends ago, you took your first steps. I know this should all be in next month's update, but I just can't help it! We were so excited and so proud of you! I even cried a little bit - my little baby will soon be a toddler.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiOcQamfnksDsAJg0Ko01PdsrlVJ6SVrCwcHtQCmLfwaV77riC7rqlFhrjEv9lvu_JOrJfx3mqCDSJ8DdA4h37CTB4mOyEFRyr94LdYVbUeMFgybOryZTzrxxDqRa7BCEObJx9toWFY8/s1600-h/DSCN0215.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdiOcQamfnksDsAJg0Ko01PdsrlVJ6SVrCwcHtQCmLfwaV77riC7rqlFhrjEv9lvu_JOrJfx3mqCDSJ8DdA4h37CTB4mOyEFRyr94LdYVbUeMFgybOryZTzrxxDqRa7BCEObJx9toWFY8/s320/DSCN0215.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449368381289753794" border="0" /></a><br />In less than two weeks, we will be having your first birthday party. And if there's one thing mom loves to do, it's plan parties. I know you will enjoy just having your family and friends around you, and I'm looking forward to seeing you be the center of attention (I have a feeling you will <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">love </span>it!)<br /><br />Next time I write to you, you will be one year old. It really is hard to believe. It seems like such a short time ago that it was just daddy and I. The past 11+ months have definitely been challenging, but they have been incredible, too. Watching you grow, change and achieve all sorts of milestones has been amazing. I know within the next two weeks, you will have changed even more - everyone keeps telling me, "That one year mark! You'll just be amazed at the changes it will bring!" But the older you grow, the more sentimental I get, and I wish you could remain little forever. But don't worry (especially you, daddy), I'm not getting the baby bug, and I don't think I will be again any time soon!<br /><br />Love,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-48404737544666068932010-02-17T10:22:00.000-08:002010-02-17T10:25:14.470-08:00Wordless Wednesday<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5ileNTzD-E_75OYKeDBnUEYhatxaNDh-HQ3eO2lgHTGgySoq9yrLXUtopoQX-tC1YtOfOOgZbLXSoJt3vswVGMpSaiFRKy3qiDhVVDYnd_rNj9SqVSfbgWq-x_Z3Jk1MJpNrBZJVe-k/s1600-h/DSCN0208.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH5ileNTzD-E_75OYKeDBnUEYhatxaNDh-HQ3eO2lgHTGgySoq9yrLXUtopoQX-tC1YtOfOOgZbLXSoJt3vswVGMpSaiFRKy3qiDhVVDYnd_rNj9SqVSfbgWq-x_Z3Jk1MJpNrBZJVe-k/s320/DSCN0208.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439280092218506514" border="0" /></a>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-75008433956854438402010-02-16T15:15:00.001-08:002010-02-19T09:57:25.639-08:00Just Standing AroundSo, on Sunday night, Joey and I headed over to Mike's co-worker's house for a Valentine's Day dinner party. Mike was working and unfortunately missed out on some delicious food - Pistachio Popovers with Creme Brulee Filling and Grand Marnier sauce for dessert=AWESOME! - whoops, detour!<br /><br />OK, anyway, so our hosts have a son, J., that is about 4.5 months older than Joey. Yep, full-on toddler status. Joey was absolutely mesmerized by him. So much so that there was one point where J. was standing in front of him, and Joey let go of whatever he was holding onto, and just stood there. <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">STOOD.</span> Without support! In reality, it probably lasted less than 15 seconds, but watching him stand there it seemed like forever. And you know what? He's been doing it ever since! Grabbing a toy out of his little toy shopping cart, and just<span style="font-style: italic;"> standing there</span>. I have a distinct feeling those first steps are right around the corner.Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-21759768560314997302010-02-14T10:07:00.000-08:002010-02-14T10:13:13.387-08:00Ten MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />Just over two weeks ago, you turned ten months old. You're in the double digits, little man! This past month has been full of changes. You are starting to mimic us more and more, and it is pretty entertaining! You are waving now - to anyone and any<span style="font-style: italic;">thing. </span>When we tell you we are going bye-bye, you wave. When we are at the store, you wave at everyone. When a car drives by, you wave. Are you getting the picture here? You dance when there is music on - you throw a hand in the air and bounce, bounce, bounce with a big smile on your face.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT-NfIkUtOSPbvZzBXsumdWZ6OcAcLDvDalWKw7PMPtCdVSNe31LRpSgPkvSAoBg_V2UnSn0HC9ikEHHP1NL1H9Z_Wu9SqXNIwH0Kn6e_4pbnzqVTn_9dmNlW0ab46YZsXUPGueCPe3w/s1600-h/100_4116.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBT-NfIkUtOSPbvZzBXsumdWZ6OcAcLDvDalWKw7PMPtCdVSNe31LRpSgPkvSAoBg_V2UnSn0HC9ikEHHP1NL1H9Z_Wu9SqXNIwH0Kn6e_4pbnzqVTn_9dmNlW0ab46YZsXUPGueCPe3w/s320/100_4116.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438161406205207570" border="0" /></a><br />You have seven teeth now, and you are working on number eight. You are still such a champ when you are teething - you get a little grouchy, but it doesn't upset your nighttime sleep (much). If anything, it disrupts your naps (a little frustrating when mommy needs a little time to get dressed for the day!), and you are extra clingy (which is OK - I know there will be a day when you don't want kisses and hugs and cuddles from mom, so I enjoy it for what it's worth).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI9OaMKOuuC9ykch4dXFtzCmFNF4GImopNomHvDy_yFvonlIZpSLGhGM_t9WN52pQPelhDBAIyr3V9dgAT3Guq7z9IRqXJX4DpoicbbhYYbgEnqpUHYXsf2aLWKuIH3OV2uWnIWnCSwo/s1600-h/100_4202.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI9OaMKOuuC9ykch4dXFtzCmFNF4GImopNomHvDy_yFvonlIZpSLGhGM_t9WN52pQPelhDBAIyr3V9dgAT3Guq7z9IRqXJX4DpoicbbhYYbgEnqpUHYXsf2aLWKuIH3OV2uWnIWnCSwo/s320/100_4202.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438160235502422178" border="0" /></a><br />There was a weekend a few weeks back where I was certain you were giving up your morning naps. It would take me hours of up and down with you to get you to sleep for 30 minutes. I know this will happen eventually, but I was not ready for it to happen so soon. Thank goodness, it seems like it was just a fluke - perhaps related to your first "real" cold. That same week, you woke up with a temperature of 101.6. We gave you Tylenol and lots of juice and water, and kept a close eye on you. You spent most days that week in your PJs and you slept -<span style="font-style: italic;"> a lot </span>- during the day, and soon you were back to your old self - jumping up and down on the couch, getting into cabinets and drawers, playing with your toys, and following mom and dad around the house.<br /><br />One of your favorite toys these days is a <a href="http://www.wishplusonline.com/prod_detail.php?id=1048">stuffed monkey</a> that daddy picked out for you when we went to the Oakland Zoo with our friends Meghan, Memo and Sochie. Even when you first got him, you would hold him away from your face, and look into his little button eyes, as if to say, "We are going to be friends for a long, long time!" You <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">LOVE</span> this monkey. You squeeze him tight and give him kisses - it is one of the sweetest things I have ever seen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPybz0Y5VbxEufkJJVxZh5WbVULvj_qNvN8YZWF9QfLsikolRl6TWCV7sd_6PU6dVDC3KYyfsenWBO6_Wj9buymgaCAzwX6yX2oXT1M9wvAjqrrgaevR3FO2Y4nZ_XsjtKRVL82GOJgvc/s1600-h/100_4110.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPybz0Y5VbxEufkJJVxZh5WbVULvj_qNvN8YZWF9QfLsikolRl6TWCV7sd_6PU6dVDC3KYyfsenWBO6_Wj9buymgaCAzwX6yX2oXT1M9wvAjqrrgaevR3FO2Y4nZ_XsjtKRVL82GOJgvc/s320/100_4110.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438160257808212450" border="0" /></a><br />This past month, you celebrated your first New Year's Eve with us. Mom and dad had a little party, and I was worried that you would be up all night with the noise in the house, and pretty cranky. Boy, was I ever wrong! You went to bed at about 8:30, and you slept through the entire party! We were absolutely amazed - seeing as we try not to flush the toilet in the middle of a nap so as not to wake you up.<br /><br />You also started spending a few afternoons a week with grandma. She was able to re-arrange her work schedule so she works more hours some days, and less hours on others. This frees up some of her afternoons to spend with you, and mommy gets to go to work (and actually work!) She enjoys having you so much, and you are exhausted by the time I pick you up at the end of the day! You guys go to the park, the zoo, the grocery store, and you even feed the ducks and geese at the lake (she said you laugh when the geese honk at you!)<br /><br />I cannot believe we are almost through our first year, Joey. There are some days when I can't figure out what you want or need, and I think to myself, "How have I been doing this for almost a year, and I still feel like it's my first week on the job?" This is the hardest, most demanding job I have ever had - but it is also the most important - and you can be a tough customer some days! Some days, I look around the house - toys all over the floor, papers all over the kitchen counters, laundry on the couch, no dinner in the oven - and think about how I am failing. But then I look at your face and see a big smile, you are happy and laughing, and you reach up for me, and the important things come back into focus. I know that no matter how messy the house may get sometimes, or how many times daddy and I don't eat dinner until 8:00, I will not be let go from this job any time soon.<br /><br />I love you, baby!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkVdl9PIFaqacfHoBAHOkrvyFAHwrLTl_qi-IkFRZckXrllzVToaqzo9Ai6j_oH9oh5Ka8WI1CsbJc2CNTMzCuS7tqwqNDZcTtcziyzJ-EjAQrzokq1CnhKBMmwyXGwe2RtjIRg_NSnE0/s1600-h/100_4153.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkVdl9PIFaqacfHoBAHOkrvyFAHwrLTl_qi-IkFRZckXrllzVToaqzo9Ai6j_oH9oh5Ka8WI1CsbJc2CNTMzCuS7tqwqNDZcTtcziyzJ-EjAQrzokq1CnhKBMmwyXGwe2RtjIRg_NSnE0/s320/100_4153.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438160252794741522" border="0" /></a><br />Love,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-56608158544027254842010-01-26T21:48:00.000-08:002010-01-26T21:48:00.725-08:00SomedaySomeday, I will purchase a piece of furniture that I don't have to put together (and that does not come from Ikea, Target, or HomeDecorators.com - not that there's anything wrong with those places... you know what I mean). I will organize my desk, and my hall cabinet so that I know where the staples, and the tape, and the printer paper are - without having to dig. I will put things away in their proper place, and not have piles to sort through at the end of the month.<br /><br />I will wake up earlier than the baby so that we will be ready to leave the house when he is done with breakfast and dressed. I will even wake up early enough to put on my yoga DVD and do my a.m. stretch. I will pick a diet (or way of life, as I guess it should be) and stick to it.<br /><br />I will complete not only my business to-do list, but also my personal/domestic one instead of collapsing onto the couch with a glass of wine and piece of chocolate after the baby is asleep. I will update my blog regularly (or at least write down the things I would like to write about before they escape me 30 seconds later).<br /><br />I. Will. Be. Patient. (And if I believed in making new year's resolutions, that would be it.) Patient in my work. Patient with my son. Patient with my family. Patient with <span style="font-style: italic;">myself</span>. I will breathe. I will count to 10. I will appreciate the little things more, and I will say, "I can't wait until..." less. I will forgive more easily, and I will move on from the things that hold me back.<br /><br />Dare I say it? <span style="font-style: italic;">This is my year.</span>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-58730663848204395402010-01-19T13:32:00.000-08:002010-01-19T13:40:58.114-08:00Nine MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />About three weeks ago, you turned nine months old. (I know, <span style="font-style: italic;">I know!</span> I'm behind again.) That means you will be turning one in less than three months, and I have to start planning your birthday party <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">now</span>. Yes, mom is a planner, and the thing I love planning most is parties. OK, but I'm getting ahead of myself here... back to month nine!<br /><br />You had a well check with Dr. M, and you were 19lbs, 7ozs and 28 inches long. You have grown almost 10 inches since you were born - that is just amazing to me - and you seem to grow bigger every single day. Sometimes, you wake up in the morning, and I do not see the same baby I put to bed the night before. As of today, you have 6 teeth (when you turned 9 months though, you had 5 and the 6th was working its way out). You are doing surprisingly well with teething, and it doesn't really seem to be upsetting your nighttime sleep too much.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb_NmS85rq2q_qRkCUj6eFOft5K3gnfLF7NJKKWGDBuJnH5fx-xTBKu7M4e62MlieriS4PeWH2P5qa8wPdP2qg4swYkL6V8nnuNABAMRmE2ZDXssNddG8OPYqJMeBWi9kTSBqo7dzoTA/s1600-h/100_3939.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtb_NmS85rq2q_qRkCUj6eFOft5K3gnfLF7NJKKWGDBuJnH5fx-xTBKu7M4e62MlieriS4PeWH2P5qa8wPdP2qg4swYkL6V8nnuNABAMRmE2ZDXssNddG8OPYqJMeBWi9kTSBqo7dzoTA/s320/100_3939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428563859352902786" border="0" /></a><br />It seems like the older you get, the faster time moves. Every day, you are less like a baby, and more like a little boy. The way you interact with the people around you is changing - you participate (or want to participate) in every activity more, you flirt or play peek-a-boo with anyone that will look your way at the grocery store, and you want to do just about everything all by yourself! You explore everything you can get your hands on, which means we have started to child-proof the house. For the most part, we have left the cabinets unlocked (except for the one where the trash is, and the one where mom's breakables are). You are still trying to climb everything, and you make daddy walk you around the house any chance you get.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6tlmU24cDw9vcGer_a9PYSZdHGveY40yznbqA1ra1hsgCZGGffTEPsta___egbAnxb-eRThHphL5tcqScO1sm1b8z_QoMiKUinuwwbPeDxvSaYs66ZLVE50sOV-zx_WQ_V5EEZEBTbgA/s1600-h/100_3840+GRAY.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6tlmU24cDw9vcGer_a9PYSZdHGveY40yznbqA1ra1hsgCZGGffTEPsta___egbAnxb-eRThHphL5tcqScO1sm1b8z_QoMiKUinuwwbPeDxvSaYs66ZLVE50sOV-zx_WQ_V5EEZEBTbgA/s320/100_3840+GRAY.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428562770344729858" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO__2YS087SQfcrNLuFqdHBtFy6AkUuVwJzNpN3dOMog12gj2n5HnF_gTH1dqyP4I22KNW5nanmtFbVZV7YKSTu7eQQ_ca1daYhjgV6O5pk8gSmAZTzJ-30nuNNmWd4RWG4u7-FSFfMA/s1600-h/100_3905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiO__2YS087SQfcrNLuFqdHBtFy6AkUuVwJzNpN3dOMog12gj2n5HnF_gTH1dqyP4I22KNW5nanmtFbVZV7YKSTu7eQQ_ca1daYhjgV6O5pk8gSmAZTzJ-30nuNNmWd4RWG4u7-FSFfMA/s320/100_3905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428563853945893506" border="0" /></a><br />Some very exciting things happened during your 9th month. You finally got to meet your Uncle Ray (daddy's brother) and you absolutely adore him - and although he might not admit it, I think the feeling is mutual! It was very special for you to meet Uncle Ray because he is in the Army, and we don't get to see him nearly often enough. In just a few days, he will be heading to Germany for three years! He is very excited to go, and we can't wait to hear his stories - you will come to find out that Uncle Ray is a great story teller (although I hope he doesn't tell you <span style="font-style: italic;">some</span> of his stories until you are much, <span style="font-style: italic;">much</span> older!).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kQvsPL3v3ivjSefq9UsyUvVecToPrH_H0WIDKUyOh75ooEfQRpN5s5XZKZlJhzeNVfCLWNSAiW9cf07NxuehZtMQvixujPb2lUgMpzg45FkK57AMm4zwsGMRYDdTt2M85lWu6ZbHW30/s1600-h/IMG_0047.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kQvsPL3v3ivjSefq9UsyUvVecToPrH_H0WIDKUyOh75ooEfQRpN5s5XZKZlJhzeNVfCLWNSAiW9cf07NxuehZtMQvixujPb2lUgMpzg45FkK57AMm4zwsGMRYDdTt2M85lWu6ZbHW30/s320/IMG_0047.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428565406812173682" border="0" /></a><br />You also had your first Christmas. You got lots of fun things to play with - walk-behind/ride-on toys, a train, a car and truck, a teddy bear, some new clothes... I know I'm missing something here! Basically, you were absolutely spoiled. But the part you enjoyed the most? Tearing and eating wrapping paper and climbing on and into boxes. Yep, we can definitely say with confidence that you are totally normal! You were so tired out from all the festivities, you slept until almost 9:00 the day after - the latest you have ever slept. Uncle Ben, Auntie Alli and little Ricky came down to visit for Christmas, too. You were quite interested in your little cousin, and we spent a lot of time telling you, "Gentle! Be gentle with Ricky!" It was so much fun to see the two of you together, and I know as you both grow older, it will be even more fun.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSECK5LS_dNOxTyqQvr_emzpfIuJqAt_dK_cj3d7mGTU-Dq1mCn2kYNowN8oIcUiGnkQZNr_2AUyAK0jDluG5cWB3jtiWhu2fVTn2SXoNO99PTl3VMY576-TUryRcSWPNwZqal1-on3w/s1600-h/100_4004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSECK5LS_dNOxTyqQvr_emzpfIuJqAt_dK_cj3d7mGTU-Dq1mCn2kYNowN8oIcUiGnkQZNr_2AUyAK0jDluG5cWB3jtiWhu2fVTn2SXoNO99PTl3VMY576-TUryRcSWPNwZqal1-on3w/s320/100_4004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428565207541433474" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtJ8osmBuKAS34zc5n2E9eGypB6ONTpl99uaBHRaLNC-jGiUDDlJsc5SgdaKRKOR7zeEzt4lymqRLvlYiZw5ln6NWO-AuT63-_owozvlx2zvXnP-CKR2jtawBanWR7VQBw7klBsTluJTg/s1600-h/000_0036.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtJ8osmBuKAS34zc5n2E9eGypB6ONTpl99uaBHRaLNC-jGiUDDlJsc5SgdaKRKOR7zeEzt4lymqRLvlYiZw5ln6NWO-AuT63-_owozvlx2zvXnP-CKR2jtawBanWR7VQBw7klBsTluJTg/s320/000_0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428562755072600978" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4IOsfR9Ortc7uyaa4wZ7fIA7rbVOu44IV3toxCRx7bubO6S9zXkVrbvzcpk6nj_YlW1mBdpCqf7kd5MF2bRf1lH4vLcA2hDX9pZLhy1tdFDucfJq3QCUobfzkAz1QEh_XZxxEJZ3cJE/s1600-h/100_4027.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj4IOsfR9Ortc7uyaa4wZ7fIA7rbVOu44IV3toxCRx7bubO6S9zXkVrbvzcpk6nj_YlW1mBdpCqf7kd5MF2bRf1lH4vLcA2hDX9pZLhy1tdFDucfJq3QCUobfzkAz1QEh_XZxxEJZ3cJE/s320/100_4027.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428565213730877730" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GsWq7xHHnchq4YolfMihzuKqkd0PCTWBb-_Xtf_XBoOdHA5AKnKc75F1srXWcd-O7Xqbx5WhDOujxDJojqj46475sMgyRXtfG9L04LywSpTVYmwIymxG7xK2MtBH2POQn1Xxy34nXnA/s1600-h/IMG_0021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GsWq7xHHnchq4YolfMihzuKqkd0PCTWBb-_Xtf_XBoOdHA5AKnKc75F1srXWcd-O7Xqbx5WhDOujxDJojqj46475sMgyRXtfG9L04LywSpTVYmwIymxG7xK2MtBH2POQn1Xxy34nXnA/s320/IMG_0021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428565234403079650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhstq2ZWqCTOWu7GeP7F3HnbAcmggogTNRuJ-vu4u2E-w55nDlRSfrNFJVhURlXldIYNZ3Pzj1bOKhqfqhqObFkbRZKNrX1qp2I-kS9ExXPuVfMitoy4YIi9AX0np867HpSP3-sieRlQ-s/s1600-h/100_4043.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhstq2ZWqCTOWu7GeP7F3HnbAcmggogTNRuJ-vu4u2E-w55nDlRSfrNFJVhURlXldIYNZ3Pzj1bOKhqfqhqObFkbRZKNrX1qp2I-kS9ExXPuVfMitoy4YIi9AX0np867HpSP3-sieRlQ-s/s320/100_4043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428565222964082882" border="0" /></a><br />You are starting to communicate with us more, and although your main method of telling us you need something is to yell or cry, you have started to wave, you say "ba ba" when I ask if you want a bottle, and sometimes you say Dada (although we're not sure if you know what you're saying, or if it's just another sound to you). You have started to try to blow raspberries on us, just like we do to your belly or cheeks - sometimes you get it, and sometimes you succeed in covering us in drool - either way, it is pretty funny. You also make this "rrrrrrrr" sound - I don't really know how to describe it. Basically like you are rolling an 'R', but you have different pitches that you make when you are either upset or happy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0J9aKi_ZXhSQUplv5F5RPf6nrfNkMtGgqGpZ42CQhX5SsdeBVxMY8V43V8aJVgDtdVq4dVCn8InUoPxaP-0cpvHRzWwOSIyF9uMn417MuaUxwJAlyN-RwZuoDCBKrjkkhcw3bylABb3c/s1600-h/100_3834.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0J9aKi_ZXhSQUplv5F5RPf6nrfNkMtGgqGpZ42CQhX5SsdeBVxMY8V43V8aJVgDtdVq4dVCn8InUoPxaP-0cpvHRzWwOSIyF9uMn417MuaUxwJAlyN-RwZuoDCBKrjkkhcw3bylABb3c/s320/100_3834.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428562763973937778" border="0" /></a><br />You are trying more and more new foods, and lately all you want is whatever we are eating. Some of the things you like are actually kind of surprising to me - asparagus, broccoli, cauliflower. Thinking about feeding you has made me start to think harder about what I feed daddy and I, too. If I don't want it to go in your body, maybe it shouldn't go in mine either. (Although completely saying goodbye to chocolate and other occasional indulgences may prove to be pretty difficult!) You love watermelon, cheese, Cheerios, pasta... anything you can feed yourself, really!<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8K1wNZMbsP8f_rl_nZ7qdMAhknoq5OC4CL6ZMTnTXy4P9b5vlmOR9eQglBxPwEGsgrxH6Hs0o3HeqAJ_AYGIny-grKN2j1rZTQbK5Lq0PzABoo0rwFV08CR-hWOxSUan2HvPcCeMC3Xw/s1600-h/100_3883.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8K1wNZMbsP8f_rl_nZ7qdMAhknoq5OC4CL6ZMTnTXy4P9b5vlmOR9eQglBxPwEGsgrxH6Hs0o3HeqAJ_AYGIny-grKN2j1rZTQbK5Lq0PzABoo0rwFV08CR-hWOxSUan2HvPcCeMC3Xw/s320/100_3883.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428563839517554722" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Not really your 1st St. Patty's Day - Grandma just got that on sale)</span></span><br /><br /></div>It is getting more and more difficult to bring you to work with me during the week - you are very active, and it is just not safe for you to crawl around the shop. You get very frustrated with this, and some days I seem to spend more time distracting you than working. I struggle on a daily basis with what to do about it. Daddy and I have talked about putting you in daycare a couple days a week so that I can get my work done, and you can have some time to interact with other kids (something you don't get nearly enough of, and I know you would definitely enjoy). But it is hard to think of someone else taking care of you, or me missing anything new that you do - like saying "Mama" or taking your first steps. We have also talked about me working more from home, and although grandpa would miss seeing you at work every day, this is probably going to be our best option for now. You take better naps when you are at home and in your own bed, which means you are happier, and you sleep better at night (which means daddy and I are happier, too!). Whatever decision we make, rest assured that we will have thought long and hard about it, and we will always have your best interest in mind to make sure you are safe, happy and receiving the best care possible.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHEewrCByc8W4UQZyNRYAn7ZEi30Zg05ggHm8reQhlNpaj0oT_iBipYjU8ZYWKgW6hTa4hWuk4X21Ia6UrBGAkp4TC_UvgfPj2hQKf_oxru89uTsV4o60ySi6ZDAUJsJV-b3YACy28ZI/s1600-h/100_3870.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHEewrCByc8W4UQZyNRYAn7ZEi30Zg05ggHm8reQhlNpaj0oT_iBipYjU8ZYWKgW6hTa4hWuk4X21Ia6UrBGAkp4TC_UvgfPj2hQKf_oxru89uTsV4o60ySi6ZDAUJsJV-b3YACy28ZI/s320/100_3870.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428562777811078370" border="0" /></a><br />I know I've said it before, but you really are an amazing little person. We love you so much, and I am so happy that I get to be <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">your</span> mom.<br /><br />Love,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-73397342488570014162009-12-15T12:43:00.000-08:002009-12-15T12:43:00.541-08:00Eight MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />About two weeks ago, you turned eight months old. I know, I'm behind again! But you have been keeping me so busy, it's hard to find time to write - and, to be honest, lately when I do have time to write, I usually just want to relax and do nothing - seriously, chasing you around the house is hard work!<br /><br />At the beginning of the month, you moved from novice crawler to certified pro in the matter of a weekend. And, since then, your goal in life is to crawl to anything and everything you can pull yourself up to standing on. Inevitably, this has led to a number of tumbles, and thankfully your falls scare you more than anything else. But, you are a boy through and through, and these falls have not kept you from exploring (and even trying to climb - much to my dismay!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkNTNc3OzOK27ZdheFjUgxfSRfnVAYUWXLhmANDGF0gHW4di4zoJxhXhl2jhxHjD5NpUu2KrARUnPpcWbWoedob1tb8FroPG_6UVra6IKYAG3kB42xy-md86R4YCAPOID40B_60b6BOU/s1600-h/100_3647.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtkNTNc3OzOK27ZdheFjUgxfSRfnVAYUWXLhmANDGF0gHW4di4zoJxhXhl2jhxHjD5NpUu2KrARUnPpcWbWoedob1tb8FroPG_6UVra6IKYAG3kB42xy-md86R4YCAPOID40B_60b6BOU/s320/100_3647.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415524955717684690" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrbXLClwTSPUeLPNh1wgCHeE3tjJ4X-A6ERrJimoMzNIDPy9k330o_2RotJqPMZkIbNmRWOP48v-Unb9VH3cHjdVLsVP8eo6pWy_Dy2CHbPMFqORxwZbVQmEsX7PJLAoLRatHCbhNCSA/s1600-h/100_3641.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrbXLClwTSPUeLPNh1wgCHeE3tjJ4X-A6ERrJimoMzNIDPy9k330o_2RotJqPMZkIbNmRWOP48v-Unb9VH3cHjdVLsVP8eo6pWy_Dy2CHbPMFqORxwZbVQmEsX7PJLAoLRatHCbhNCSA/s320/100_3641.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415524949069813794" border="0" /></a><br />You have been spending each Friday with daddy, and I think it has been great for both of you (and me - since you have become mobile, it's a little more difficult to keep you occupied at the shop!) When I get home from work, daddy tells me all about your day together. It usually involves lots of laps around our island - this is one of your favorite things to do, walk while daddy holds your hands - perhaps a walk around the neighborhood (this one you take in your stroller), cartoons, games of airplane, and hopefully a couple of naps - which daddy has become quite good at getting you to take! You are excited to see me when I get home at the end of the day, but daddy is definitely still your favorite person!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xBPKd7CRCQn340JTsEWrA_bivX_Lk2S_-xq7tSyEsVrLiNERlOAPCqU7_Caovsy_fsYYVUNA7RkPgrpH41EKHs2VsxQRh5FVh_ZmlqxbHLSVmM_m1g3E4pMRvwbzxHWtPy9aDlQJAWg/s1600-h/100_3840.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xBPKd7CRCQn340JTsEWrA_bivX_Lk2S_-xq7tSyEsVrLiNERlOAPCqU7_Caovsy_fsYYVUNA7RkPgrpH41EKHs2VsxQRh5FVh_ZmlqxbHLSVmM_m1g3E4pMRvwbzxHWtPy9aDlQJAWg/s320/100_3840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415525369321177490" border="0" /></a><br />In the middle of the month, daddy and I took a Thursday trip to the Bay Area to watch the 49ers beat the Bears, and you stayed with grandma and grandpa. When we got back, my friends from college were in town, and I spent the weekend with them in Cayucos. Daddy took you back to grandma and grandpa's house on Saturday so he could go visit his friends in the Valley, and they brought you over to Cayucos to meet all your "aunties." When they left with you, I was so sad! I couldn't believe how much I missed you! I felt like I was missing out on all sorts of things you were doing. But I knew you were in good hands, and you were having a ball hanging out with grandma and grandpa and Ruby dog.<br /><br />You spent your first Thanksgiving at uncle Ben and auntie Alli's house, and you were quite interested in your cousin Ricky, and their dog, Izzie. Unfortunately, Izzie was quite interested in your puppy sucker. She swiped him off of a side table and chewed up the pacifier. Thank goodness she left puppy alone, but mommy didn't bring a back-up pacifier to replace the one that was now in Izzie's belly. I didn't realize just how much of a comfort it was to you until we got back to the hotel that night. Needless to say, we didn't get much sleep! We went back to Ben and Alli's house on Friday morning, and you fell asleep in the car. We stopped at Rite-Aid, and I bought the last pack of Soothie pacifiers they had. You napped for about three hours (no surprise considering how little sleep you got on Thursday night), and I sewed a new pacifier onto your puppy while you slept. When you finally woke up, I brought it to you, and your face lit up. You were so happy to have puppy back, and intact!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0JfqsiaRuPisARIHFnHBuaLO3Y7LnzaPWvz_xB39UlxzbwemUXf0dbn8iTp2RQfQdToE9wlePWL2rhgJuSC2PzOBPQ9jAwa6qPdo7HdJwFuCEkmlhNC1kRcObT-C4SB36LrIfVK1ntw/s1600-h/100_3829.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0JfqsiaRuPisARIHFnHBuaLO3Y7LnzaPWvz_xB39UlxzbwemUXf0dbn8iTp2RQfQdToE9wlePWL2rhgJuSC2PzOBPQ9jAwa6qPdo7HdJwFuCEkmlhNC1kRcObT-C4SB36LrIfVK1ntw/s320/100_3829.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415525365381022450" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-LgbbUVe7vQIxptsJnD_SxssQFsfywH5MgAEp7bnS7D1qartZqU6vhhcTH0_yKMs12xoPj34GGD981DrMkmXwxMJ5o9GaDlUPFCuxXI7wh3ClvuS5wJn5RsAwDGaR1W7lQlcQF7U-z8/s1600-h/100_3811.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-LgbbUVe7vQIxptsJnD_SxssQFsfywH5MgAEp7bnS7D1qartZqU6vhhcTH0_yKMs12xoPj34GGD981DrMkmXwxMJ5o9GaDlUPFCuxXI7wh3ClvuS5wJn5RsAwDGaR1W7lQlcQF7U-z8/s320/100_3811.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415525358720333330" border="0" /></a><br />Some of your favorite things these days are your sippy cup, Cheerios (some days, you won't eat any breakfast unless you get some Cheerios with it), banging on things with your hands or toys, looking at the baby in the mirror (every time daddy walks you by the mirror in the kitchen, you crack up when you see the "other baby"), making raspberries or "rrrrrrrr" sounds, hugs and kisses, and peek-a-boo. You still don't mind riding in the car, but sometimes you want nothing to do with being strapped in your carseat. You are also becoming quite a picky eater. One day you love something, and the next you want nothing to do with it - quite frustrating when I have to make you three different things for breakfast sometimes!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aAMtzPoKDmyaAXFjU9sUQ6Zd7H3T6iutC4qgUl_si7EzUVQW1Ep2wFSEjp5-jU_ZCYJepo8suTzSw0TR9mwqMkxlfjQwvjKxLXt_lL0pVpn_gttQEo_yRRENKd8gcVKbfxHegWO4asw/s1600-h/100_3809.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aAMtzPoKDmyaAXFjU9sUQ6Zd7H3T6iutC4qgUl_si7EzUVQW1Ep2wFSEjp5-jU_ZCYJepo8suTzSw0TR9mwqMkxlfjQwvjKxLXt_lL0pVpn_gttQEo_yRRENKd8gcVKbfxHegWO4asw/s320/100_3809.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415524971115380914" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IxsyKdM7ZT3jc5eDJ7O_dU_YfG-r6WGiuI5TRDFd-19L20SrmhnjUromZ_TPaJ8Nrj8FO2otadhQCOqNUUD-_u-3pHbHBYTkOVnIRvDP9y-jxG5IalfSsMzbbV70_kA24AmTFrh0llw/s1600-h/100_3794.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8IxsyKdM7ZT3jc5eDJ7O_dU_YfG-r6WGiuI5TRDFd-19L20SrmhnjUromZ_TPaJ8Nrj8FO2otadhQCOqNUUD-_u-3pHbHBYTkOVnIRvDP9y-jxG5IalfSsMzbbV70_kA24AmTFrh0llw/s320/100_3794.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415524965208265442" border="0" /></a><br />I realized last night, that you will be turning one in a little over three months. I can't believe it. I told daddy that I can't believe we are approaching the one year mark, and I still don't feel like I have a grasp on this whole mom thing! Unless I wake up before you do (and you are still quite an early bird, so this could mean 5am some days), it still takes me an hour and a half to get both of us ready and out the door in the morning. Some days, I feel like I have met your every need, and others, I feel like I fell far short - these are the days that are hardest for me, because I feel like you deserve the best from me every day. Just as you are growing and learning new things each day, I want you to remember that I am, too. Never forget that even if I make some mistakes along the way, I will always do my best to make them right. And never forget that I love you.<br /><br />Love,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-8981844574951071082009-12-08T07:42:00.000-08:002009-12-08T07:44:25.840-08:00Yes, yes, I knowOK, I know I should be posting Joey's 8 month update, but... <a href="http://doughmesstic.blogspot.com/2009/12/gift-yes-to-you.html">check out this contest!</a> I mean, who wouldn't want to win this mixer??Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-90431842104625759622009-11-19T14:30:00.000-08:002009-11-19T14:32:54.046-08:00Seven Months<span style="font-style: italic;">Note to readers (all 2 of you!) I really did write this ten days ago, but haven't had time to go back and add pictures until today! So, without further ado, Joey's 7 month update:<br /><br /></span>Dear Joey,<br /><br />About a week and a half ago, you turned seven months old. I know, I know, I've been slacking again! You had quite a month, and some exciting things happened within the last week that should probably be included in next month's update, but I just can't help myself!<br /><br />At the beginning of the month, you had your first nights without mom and dad. We went out of town to spend some much needed time together for our second wedding anniversary, and grandma and grandpa came to our house to stay with you. The day that we left, I called grandma to check in, and she said, "Why are you calling? Everything is fine." You were having so much fun taking walks and hanging out with Ruby dog that I don't even think you realized we were gone. You slept well at night, and took your naps, too! When we came to pick you up at grandma and grandpa's house, you gave us the lip and started to cry! I'm not sure why, but you warmed back up to us quickly, thank goodness!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJebXH-i5MXKpfSBxRtDaZuIndPfNAZhj4Ke59-TwW07qnNG1AcHwjV7RlGiabJj3IgUSkSOKtf8CbPrRlSi2ZM0uTJGvOqEUcxYbj03SaNQrvFj3ed-H_KA-7cpohBnQrTdTfJu6-8D0/s1600/DCP_2319.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJebXH-i5MXKpfSBxRtDaZuIndPfNAZhj4Ke59-TwW07qnNG1AcHwjV7RlGiabJj3IgUSkSOKtf8CbPrRlSi2ZM0uTJGvOqEUcxYbj03SaNQrvFj3ed-H_KA-7cpohBnQrTdTfJu6-8D0/s320/DCP_2319.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405944769336568402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwaW_mZ-YMp84ou5ZmsMVoquUOBe9nEm3BeVT6L-Q1a1PiSsf-Y5m_MVPJaokK-_YlEW24JnjoU7PU2Nat3qIPq9SZH9XDLjFT7lQ0EByGc8zpxYJf992C81KjWB2LSKeuHGwUUyzH9g/s1600/100_3454.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhwaW_mZ-YMp84ou5ZmsMVoquUOBe9nEm3BeVT6L-Q1a1PiSsf-Y5m_MVPJaokK-_YlEW24JnjoU7PU2Nat3qIPq9SZH9XDLjFT7lQ0EByGc8zpxYJf992C81KjWB2LSKeuHGwUUyzH9g/s320/100_3454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405943734642573170" border="0" /></a><br />You also had one of your very first long days alone with daddy. He stayed home with you so mom could go out wine tasting with family and friends. We all met at grandma and grandpa's house that evening, and you met a bunch of new people. Everyone loved you so much! Your uncle Tommy even brought you a 49ers hat and track suit for next football season. I can't wait until it fits you!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73g145Y_s4yholUL_4G8BoVAgw6h2IB6dTUZbQNCOIGiMCrJid1roPpZInbnjfmMTzRYs0QDwTem1pO78GQlX42hHToFkTGnECzak0aoznvRtLr6r7izFwcgXDEn0jGcldWXK3tTnJ20/s1600/100_3387.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73g145Y_s4yholUL_4G8BoVAgw6h2IB6dTUZbQNCOIGiMCrJid1roPpZInbnjfmMTzRYs0QDwTem1pO78GQlX42hHToFkTGnECzak0aoznvRtLr6r7izFwcgXDEn0jGcldWXK3tTnJ20/s320/100_3387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405943732083647970" border="0" /></a><br />We were positive you would start crawling before you turned seven months, but you continued to drag yourself around and do "the worm." And then you surprised us all - you pulled yourself up to standing in your co-sleeper. From that moment, there was no stopping you. You weren't even really crawling yet, and you decided you'd like to skip the whole thing and start walking! Now, when I go into your room to get you out of your crib, you are standing there waiting for me. But, last weekend you decided you just might wait on that whole walking thing a little bit longer, and you started to crawl. So, now you crawl around, and pull yourself to standing on just about anything you can get your hands on. Needless to say, you are definitely keeping me on my toes.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbMwl8lULwGLho4HuaOwb8QjlCNEJ7KiUUtZMSp8A8lNYqKPR9KucM0kh_O8jXPVDHnPZrHix8nb52Z5DmelW501t-IozFvjxFcq3icgLVKj6reMJZnU9VdC301HyHYnFk43vowCyKSM/s1600/100_3536.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbMwl8lULwGLho4HuaOwb8QjlCNEJ7KiUUtZMSp8A8lNYqKPR9KucM0kh_O8jXPVDHnPZrHix8nb52Z5DmelW501t-IozFvjxFcq3icgLVKj6reMJZnU9VdC301HyHYnFk43vowCyKSM/s320/100_3536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405941297535320434" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMWRYQacDPePgqxji1qIiH0H4DoksldbiQOZSUTQ8RqLiTd-8kiwuytWt4ALbma9pkMJZv4V-ilN2n2ozD2eTg0Rg7rwxj9g-RbQSK5H7BmDgmVoVGzzriyC4vIQvvpvmIYJQOhpA9L4/s1600/100_3539.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPMWRYQacDPePgqxji1qIiH0H4DoksldbiQOZSUTQ8RqLiTd-8kiwuytWt4ALbma9pkMJZv4V-ilN2n2ozD2eTg0Rg7rwxj9g-RbQSK5H7BmDgmVoVGzzriyC4vIQvvpvmIYJQOhpA9L4/s320/100_3539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405941301288178370" border="0" /></a><br />On October 25th, we had plans to take you to the pumpkin patch with Grandma and Grandpa, and they called to tell us Uncle Ben and Auntie Alli were going to have their baby! They headed north to be with them, but we still took you to the pumpkin patch (and took lots of pictures for them). Uncle Ben and Auntie Alli welcomed little Ricky into the world that same day, and we went to visit them on Halloween. I can just imagine the <strike through="">trouble you will get into</strike> fun you will have together! We also brought your Halloween costume with us, and even though it fit you OK at the beginning of the week, it just barely fit you on Halloween! Daddy thought I was torturing you, so we took it off after we snapped a few pictures. In some of them, you looked like the saddest little puppy I've ever seen! You cracked a big smile when daddy took the costume off though, so I guess he was right.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfXxIcIwoKlu2W-3znUBX_kYed3rRd512RTrxhqU7I1cSa2y6fNWGYseHHrfUyPWyE8iGHwZMExwDnlV1DYv1S_4-VgzVpdINS97cQ-H6dIw-zZfsi23FKy_U2fhDvznmfoxBG8YqQu8/s1600/100_3511.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfXxIcIwoKlu2W-3znUBX_kYed3rRd512RTrxhqU7I1cSa2y6fNWGYseHHrfUyPWyE8iGHwZMExwDnlV1DYv1S_4-VgzVpdINS97cQ-H6dIw-zZfsi23FKy_U2fhDvznmfoxBG8YqQu8/s320/100_3511.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405941279864696674" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9afSgLjOGrbhZxjrnTZVFFCV8fWPgmsUtc3tzVWqaw5qjLX6XSd0bDNz7hvMCj4EvW8YyCHwlfscRCZZRhuzoVw4EV-NEvQF1dOCLzqCVp6BNZHx0Tc7_fwcCNW2YnnsXD4hfiuFt38/s1600/100_3513.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT9afSgLjOGrbhZxjrnTZVFFCV8fWPgmsUtc3tzVWqaw5qjLX6XSd0bDNz7hvMCj4EvW8YyCHwlfscRCZZRhuzoVw4EV-NEvQF1dOCLzqCVp6BNZHx0Tc7_fwcCNW2YnnsXD4hfiuFt38/s320/100_3513.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405941289466641090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPv6CsGXbd83q9YpNgxJP1YbUMBCX5V_wnO6B7XQ02Csi2KKxqYdBr11GOM28PB5pV0VMMymez91yqni8DDxuFU4NaEb3267AA9bNg67mHPby1e0rmBvi_D6VN55rmgX5eu_W3ind-s5M/s1600/100_3630.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPv6CsGXbd83q9YpNgxJP1YbUMBCX5V_wnO6B7XQ02Csi2KKxqYdBr11GOM28PB5pV0VMMymez91yqni8DDxuFU4NaEb3267AA9bNg67mHPby1e0rmBvi_D6VN55rmgX5eu_W3ind-s5M/s320/100_3630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405941315206234210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NAokX4QlYykA2slqKkJyJ8kHmwUA_55bxhgEC8H-vokBDYHoLDu27dgAazT__Ah4RyUIQBu-1z2hNggrMSOzucrL_4ihSkmGYWTGXdN89UYQa6aqcndPRwug56wXL1pF5yqQnwDMFIo/s1600/cousins+meet"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5NAokX4QlYykA2slqKkJyJ8kHmwUA_55bxhgEC8H-vokBDYHoLDu27dgAazT__Ah4RyUIQBu-1z2hNggrMSOzucrL_4ihSkmGYWTGXdN89UYQa6aqcndPRwug56wXL1pF5yqQnwDMFIo/s320/cousins+meet" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405943746000299442" border="0" /></a><br />Two other big developments this month were your top teeth! I can't believe you already have four teeth. Four! And man, can you BITE!<br /><br />You also decided this past month that you were done nursing. It wasn't my intention to completely wean you when daddy and I went out of town, but when we came back, you were even less interested in nursing than you had been. (You were already showing preference for a bottle before we left.) The transition to bottle feeding went better than I could have expected. I was a little afraid that I wouldn't know when or how much to feed you, but you are not shy about letting me know when you are hungry, and you are very good at stopping when you are full (you usually take the bottle, and throw it over the side of the chair!). You are becoming very independent, and sometimes you will not eat unless you get to hold the bottle yourself.<br /><br />You are also trying more solid foods, and so far, we haven't found any meat that you really like to eat. I made you chicken with veggies, and you did not like it <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">at all</span>! But you did like <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/cream-of-asparagus-soup-recipe/index.html">Sunny Anderson's Cream of Asparagus Soup</a>. Go figure. Perhaps I've underestimated your palate??<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzxRcYPjPuIT_TNlXWU0onLe_zdyCBPquaJ3jIDunDDw1RpMF7d6bB7xtJuCb18b3emP11xZueUl53QzDQTm6t7zZ600TBi-Gy1RunXQl_U3HUf2lpaAy8IDB7_kBYSWcAiFZlBWSIHw/s1600/100_3435.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIzxRcYPjPuIT_TNlXWU0onLe_zdyCBPquaJ3jIDunDDw1RpMF7d6bB7xtJuCb18b3emP11xZueUl53QzDQTm6t7zZ600TBi-Gy1RunXQl_U3HUf2lpaAy8IDB7_kBYSWcAiFZlBWSIHw/s320/100_3435.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405945934773778242" border="0" /></a>You are becoming a little boy before my eyes, and I want you to know that it's OK to slow down a little bit. Really, slow down!<br /><br />Love,<br />Mom<img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3539.JPG" alt="" /><br /><br /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3630.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3536.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3513.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3511.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3454.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3435.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3422.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/100_3387.JPG" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/anniefar/Desktop/DCP_2319.jpg" alt="" />Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-12524577286935325612009-10-24T12:20:00.000-07:002009-10-24T12:25:40.558-07:00Cheers to Two Years!Mike and I celebrated our second wedding anniversary a couple weeks ago. Alone. No diapers. No feeding schedules. No naps (although I could have used a couple). Sleeping in. Three hours from home.<br /><br />The Saturday we headed out of town, my parents came over and took over care of The Captain. After putting him down for a nap (I managed not to cry!), we headed up scenic <a href="http://www.byways.org/explore/byways/2301/">Highway 1</a> and decided we would play it by ear. A whole weekend! Play it by ear! We stopped in Moss Landing and had lunch at <a href="http://www.philsfishmarket.com/">Phil's Fish Market</a>. We shared a big bowl of their famous cioppino, a cup of clam chowder, and fish and chips, and washed it all down with cold Blue Moons. We left Moss Landing and drove up to Santa Clara (my hometown) to check in to our hotel. We grabbed a beer at the bar, and decided to go to the movies. <span style="font-style: italic;">The movies!</span> <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">We went to the movies!</span> I know, I know, romantic, but really, it's one of those things we love to do together that we haven't done since Joey was born. After the movie (we saw <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0986263/">Surrogates</a>, in case you were wondering) I took Mike on a tour of my old stomping grounds. I've been to his hometown a ton, but he had never really gotten the whole tour of mine. We grabbed Mexican food for dinner, and some cheap champagne before heading back to the hotel.<br /><br />On Sunday we hopped in the car and headed to Santa Cruz. We walked around the old downtown area, browsed at an antique sale, had Indian food for lunch, and went hunting for CDs at <a href="http://streetlightrecords.com/Home">Streetlight Records</a>. Mike picked out a Janis Joplin CD for me, and I managed to find a "for promotion only" Dave Matthews set recorded on New Year's Eve 1995. Then we headed to The Boardwalk for a few games of air hockey (Mike kicked my butt!), a few laps on the bumper cars, and some saltwater taffy from <a href="http://www.mariniscandies.com/">Marini's</a> - I even tried their chocolate covered bacon <span style="font-style: italic;">(it was OK - I think it would have been better if it was dipped in dark chocolate instead of milk, and if it was dipped to order)</span>.<br /><br />To wrap up the weekend, we had a late dinner at <a href="http://www.scottsseafoodsj.com/ScottsNoFlash.html">Scott's Seafood</a> in downtown San Jose. The food was great, but the company was better.<br /><br />Here's to us, baby, and many, many more to come!Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-69170087987675762782009-10-01T09:48:00.000-07:002009-10-01T09:55:51.580-07:00Why I Love MikeSince having a baby, Mike has developed his own lexicon. Some of these terms include baby speaker (aka: baby monitor), puppy sucker (aka: <a href="http://www.wubbanub.com/">WubbaNub</a>) and puke rag (I can't remember if that's the exact term he used, but aka: burp cloth).<br /><br />Last night, we were discussing his upcoming day alone with Joey. He has graciously offered to watch Joey for half a day while I go wine tasting (actually, that may deserve a "Why I Love Mike" post all its own). Anyway, I was telling him that the easiest way to get through the day would be to plan on getting absolutely nothing done. He said, "It'll be no problem, I'll just put him in his wheelchair thing, and he can watch me wash the car and stuff."<br /><br />This one took me a second. I scanned around the room looking for anything that resembled a "wheelchair thing." The ExerSaucer? No. The Bumbo? No.<br /><br />Ahhh, I've got it! The stroller! He'll put him in his stroller so he can sit outside and watch him wash the car. Needless to say, I got quite a laugh from this one!Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-28950785569825611962009-09-29T16:44:00.000-07:002009-09-30T08:45:50.706-07:00Oh the Things You Need!<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1ABoRsi3QO4C6fuQQZY3MtUXybswFLbUfhnZ6wjz4qlZhL2mFfj-6WLKV63CgiO5TgG8ZItQIrlDn0vlRETKBPHNU62PBiHnOtUoQTW8l5zgMLR5FeQlXYCiaV-EfwmLPdOJQ3CoqOY/s1600-h/joey13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiq1ABoRsi3QO4C6fuQQZY3MtUXybswFLbUfhnZ6wjz4qlZhL2mFfj-6WLKV63CgiO5TgG8ZItQIrlDn0vlRETKBPHNU62PBiHnOtUoQTW8l5zgMLR5FeQlXYCiaV-EfwmLPdOJQ3CoqOY/s320/joey13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387285903086226226" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.katiedisimone.com">Photo by Katie DiSimone</a></span><br /></span></div><br />My brother and sister-in-law are due any day now, and she put the feelers out for suggestions on things she'd need in the first three months after the baby arrives. Well, I figured why not share it with everyone! Here are the top 10 things I needed/wish I had when we first brought little Joey home:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. A schedule for visitors.</span><br />When we arrived home from the hospital, my in-laws were in my driveway and ready to help in any way they could - bless their hearts. <span style="font-style: italic;">But</span>, what I really needed when I got home was some peace and quiet to get my bearings. And when you are still trying to learn how to breast feed and your nursery is too small for a comfy chair... let's just say I wasn't jumping at the chance to whip my girls out in front of my husband's grandfather!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. The Happiest Baby on the Block DVD.</span><br />We were about 4 months too late on this one. Mike and I watched it, last month and kept looking at each other going, "<span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">WTF! </span>Why didn't we have this 4 months ago?? <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">WHY??</span>"<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. A vibrating bouncy seat and/or swing (that plugs in). </span><br />This is one of those items I put on my registry thinking, "Hmm, this is cute. Probably don't need it, but whatever." Um, I needed it. Joey slept in his bouncy seat (while I slept next to him on the couch) for, ohhh, the first 2 months of his life or so. Saved. My. Life. Oh, and I constantly worried that if I left it vibrating all night, it would scramble his brain or something. Believe me, keep the vibrations going, he's just fine. We didn't have a swing, but I think it would have been even more helpful than the bouncy seat in Joey's case. (Some babies like them, and some don't - looking back, I wish I would have gotten one, just in case) And, don't forget, if your swing is not the plug-in variety, <span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;">LOTS OF BATTERIES!</span> I swear, buy out Costco.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4. Bottles and formula (and know how to mix it).</span><br />Even if you are breast feeding. I know, I know, colostrum, yadda, yadda, yadda. My milk took forever to come in, and Joey was screaming non-stop. I finally gave in and made him a 2 oz bottle (struggling to read the instructions at 3am). He sucked it down in nothing flat, and fell fast asleep.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5. A sling or carrier that will hold a newborn (and know how to use it).</span><br />When I brought Joey home, all I had was the Bjorn, and he was too small for it. I think it would have saved a bit more of my sanity if I had been able to strap him to me and go about my day. He probably would be used to it, too. Now, it's a struggle to keep him in a carrier, unless we are out and about and he has tons of stuff to look at. I also managed to forget that I could just put him in his car seat and snap him in the stroller if I needed to get out of the house. Seriously. It didn't even cross my mind for probably the first month.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6. Lots of burp cloths.</span><br />Self explanatory.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7. My Brest Friend Nursing pillow.</span><br />This was another one that I thought I'd never need. Until I tried using my Boppy for the first week, and then took a visit to see a lactation consultant to make sure things were going OK. That was my first encounter with My Brest Friend. We actually stopped at two stores on our way home from the appointment with the consultant so I could buy one. When you have a floppy newborn (and big boobs), I found the Boppy difficult to use (actually, a flat pillow worked better). Now that Joey is bigger, I can set him on my lap with nothing, or just a flat pillow, but I still use My Brest Friend when I am at home.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">8. Nursing tank tops.</span><br />I lived in these for weeks after we brought Joey home. I had purchased a couple nursing bras before he was born, but none of them fit right, and these were so comfy and convenient.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9. A <span style="font-style: italic;">Good</span> Breast Pump (and know how it works).</span><br />When your little one is nursing like a champ at the hospital, gets home and decides to forget how those darn boobs work, the first thing you'll probably worry about is your milk supply - or your milk coming in at all - I know I did! I wish I would have bit the bullet and purchased a good electric pump, especially since I was going to be returning to work.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10. Food.</span><br />I stocked my freezer with pasta sauce a couple weeks before the baby arrived, and we had awesome family, friends and neighbors drop off food for us. One of my favorite things: <a href="http://www.quietdowncobwebs.com/">Meghan</a> brought us some chicken pasta salad that we could eat cold and on the run. Seriously, best thing I ever ate. I crave it to this day.<br /><br />OK, those are my top 10... anyone else? Anything to add or echo? What did you need or wish you had when you first brought your little one home?Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-8440871468746326612009-09-29T11:04:00.000-07:002009-09-29T20:12:13.646-07:00Six MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />Today, you turned six months old. Six! Half a year! I can hardly believe it. The last six months have been an absolute blur. <span style="font-style: italic;">They</span> are right - time really does speed up when you have a child.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NVb3p41nWyXRogary23iiBhN9zhU2ChhDtrz3Y2LKu5pQBoRgZN-wJlO8aA-UB1E-CrsVcjq_zYMT00F_3KVW4KV89viOYLY4DSEUKgQ_J4a1-D4th6PeIXDIEmTMfM4HqNALFryPhA/s1600-h/100_3340.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NVb3p41nWyXRogary23iiBhN9zhU2ChhDtrz3Y2LKu5pQBoRgZN-wJlO8aA-UB1E-CrsVcjq_zYMT00F_3KVW4KV89viOYLY4DSEUKgQ_J4a1-D4th6PeIXDIEmTMfM4HqNALFryPhA/s320/100_3340.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089373253964594" border="0" /></a><br />Yesterday, we had your 6 month well-baby checkup. You only gained 4 ounces since your last visit to see Dr. M, making you 15lbs, 8ozs. You are 26.5" long. I was a little shocked that you hadn't gained more weight, because when I am carrying you in your car seat, I feel like I might as well be carrying an elephant! OK, maybe not an elephant, but you get the point. Anyway, Dr. M didn't seem too concerned about it, since you are growing lengthwise, and your noggin is getting bigger, too. He did ask me to bring you back in a week or so though just to make sure you are not losing weight. I sent daddy a message saying you had only gained 4 ounces, and he said you must have a good metabolism, because you are a piggy! He meant it in the most loving way, I'm sure. (And boy, you sure do love to eat!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLtrznTjXWGGhXn1GZ_4Q2PEaU3KDk0daaO6tCt6lc-y8E_lJzi2xgaFwZC3Z8k-PMIBIo-0NhxJcutoYnPGc9JtS-oAnx7AgQo1R2682Rj8gnfDilEFCwWimRvIVx4dvw0M1TEvfwGA/s1600-h/100_3142.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTLtrznTjXWGGhXn1GZ_4Q2PEaU3KDk0daaO6tCt6lc-y8E_lJzi2xgaFwZC3Z8k-PMIBIo-0NhxJcutoYnPGc9JtS-oAnx7AgQo1R2682Rj8gnfDilEFCwWimRvIVx4dvw0M1TEvfwGA/s320/100_3142.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387091114300934978" border="0" /></a><br />This month, you took two trips up to the Bay Area for Auntie Alli's baby showers. You got to stay in a hotel both times, and you did really well considering all the time in the car, all the new people and new environment. Unfortunately, you also decided on these two trips that you are afraid of your Uncle Ben. We have no idea why, and we hope you will get over it soon, because even though I'm sure he won't admit it, it probably makes him pretty sad to see "the lip" every time he comes near you! On your second trip up, we also met our good friends, Meagan and Memo, and their baby girl, Sochie, at the Oakland Zoo. You slept for about the first half of the trip, and woke up just when we got to the giraffe exhibit. After we all had lunch, Meagan and I set you and Sochie on our laps, and let you get to know each other. You grabbed her by the face and gave her kisses! It was so sweet. Mommy forgot her camera, but Meagan took some pictures, so I will be posting those soon.<br /><br />You are still scooting and spinning around on the floor, and you are<span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> SO</span> close to crawling it is scary! You will put your arms underneath you, and lift your whole body up onto your toes - like you are doing a push-up - and scoot yourself forward. Dad's DVD collection is in serious trouble! I am excited for you to crawl, but scared, too, because once you start moving, I know you won't stop.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63O220o1hO0IU6hk96tO9cIxLUl5vwQvue1tP0ZRcGHR8xHuklYnu8NsSt__YcVZpeFV78DKi_eJQf2V9O6LnTEMuI-j3pr2Y7jH9TLUW_oIkZw9LSQf4x7II88TSAj2N-QPWvo1p0bE/s1600-h/100_3120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63O220o1hO0IU6hk96tO9cIxLUl5vwQvue1tP0ZRcGHR8xHuklYnu8NsSt__YcVZpeFV78DKi_eJQf2V9O6LnTEMuI-j3pr2Y7jH9TLUW_oIkZw9LSQf4x7II88TSAj2N-QPWvo1p0bE/s320/100_3120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387087685855460130" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xhwxFHFz-f4rjk9BlmB7NTjIcvTWLhXkAUbCxdHbFPECp7vK2DYlF_PdAa4_UQKGAMXOERiUUTDf1HoXy1OMW_XA5pBTmtgzfR7cGSbQNvRPdSdEI6bIMIMxjhYGIuR7EcG6CffSq2U/s1600-h/100_3111.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-xhwxFHFz-f4rjk9BlmB7NTjIcvTWLhXkAUbCxdHbFPECp7vK2DYlF_PdAa4_UQKGAMXOERiUUTDf1HoXy1OMW_XA5pBTmtgzfR7cGSbQNvRPdSdEI6bIMIMxjhYGIuR7EcG6CffSq2U/s320/100_3111.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387087678470767154" border="0" /></a><br />You are incredibly curious about everything around you, and you love being outside. Watching the sun reflect off of leaves blowing in the wind puts a big smile on your face. You reach for everything now, and you love paper, and books - a man after my own heart! Nothing on my desk at work is safe. You have started to bang on things with your hands and with toys. Just this past Sunday, you figured out that you could use your hands to splash in the bath tub (before, you would just move your feet around in the water). You still love music, and it still helps calm you down most of the time, especially when I sing to you.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfaKWqbboreE50YtiJauPfpa_An23Cp7CFzee_zUOgekomfj-xHnVa3HLeLFqOKFgOcxQaC1O869ZXVYI3uXH2izlbvGYOOxREO7m7XQO1L9qgHkcLNW9QGuFIW5yC0nlCw2ApGw9m_c/s1600-h/100_3334.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfaKWqbboreE50YtiJauPfpa_An23Cp7CFzee_zUOgekomfj-xHnVa3HLeLFqOKFgOcxQaC1O869ZXVYI3uXH2izlbvGYOOxREO7m7XQO1L9qgHkcLNW9QGuFIW5yC0nlCw2ApGw9m_c/s320/100_3334.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089366229099042" border="0" /></a><br />You are "talking" more than ever, and you started making "B" sounds this month. It is pretty funny to hear you say, "Blah, blah, blah, bong, bong!" You are also still growling and grunting, and you will say "Da Da" and "Ba Ba," although at this point in time they are still just sounds to you - we don't think you are relating them to anything in particular. You babble a lot when you are getting tired - just like your mom!<br /><br />You have tried a lot of different foods now since we started you on rice cereal a couple months ago. Bananas, peaches, avocado, carrots, sweet potatoes, peas, green beans, mango... Any time you see us with a spoon, you open your mouth as if to say, "Where is mine??"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtoD1Yd8oB4ysXbgI8s0EGl5zbuPRbuVf4d9Y7-Npbw1h_7vB0jcMO7uxjRqKAcGOm-1h408HAwy-kNqyuIvDy0Rb7vbnIqnIVzb5kMQ5XQnjRKA3_M2L_pRJS4XMTV_yppFL83qLL5M/s1600-h/100_3200.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtoD1Yd8oB4ysXbgI8s0EGl5zbuPRbuVf4d9Y7-Npbw1h_7vB0jcMO7uxjRqKAcGOm-1h408HAwy-kNqyuIvDy0Rb7vbnIqnIVzb5kMQ5XQnjRKA3_M2L_pRJS4XMTV_yppFL83qLL5M/s320/100_3200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387087700169455298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvjvDPRge3UceKNLaX_PpxLNXh0V1DVUxuZp3fh-hVuv3GFOut-EbfQmavFqWS3D1uMj9h2CyYilOYLFz4yAtIFr95RSfugY895xSoL5b1FJ_pX9wNyw67vSQcDye2H6LsPj6t3sMDhc/s1600-h/100_3187.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmvjvDPRge3UceKNLaX_PpxLNXh0V1DVUxuZp3fh-hVuv3GFOut-EbfQmavFqWS3D1uMj9h2CyYilOYLFz4yAtIFr95RSfugY895xSoL5b1FJ_pX9wNyw67vSQcDye2H6LsPj6t3sMDhc/s320/100_3187.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387087693759891874" border="0" /></a><br />We took you to the park near our house, and we decided you were ready to try out the swings. You loved it! You would get the biggest smile on your face whenever the swing came forward towards daddy. (By the way, daddy is still your absolute favorite person!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveS0EOkopGwF9HXMGZuPuHBxg16gKt6WnRzfkoFJ14U-f9gHIlJZPlFPAd_FDX5Nrs_dTnX5jOPFKFNO46SEbV0-i-D0-mQrlNuLrorHEk12ltJq-pzCGwaYbtuPPdquP0Bj88SzqtJk/s1600-h/100_3287.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgveS0EOkopGwF9HXMGZuPuHBxg16gKt6WnRzfkoFJ14U-f9gHIlJZPlFPAd_FDX5Nrs_dTnX5jOPFKFNO46SEbV0-i-D0-mQrlNuLrorHEk12ltJq-pzCGwaYbtuPPdquP0Bj88SzqtJk/s320/100_3287.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089356260052162" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn0_I_ItDj76PBKU8DSIEJMqnLsqs7dm6MpHMtLzmujRV6nyvRE11DwhXcWPg7VqRK3R34rBBo9F0yYgBs3zS0p0gcszPb2RZEy_nCVMwQVmRuSq4ZnYgjrbkaRabhz8z1jmXtEfhlZ4/s1600-h/100_3286.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPn0_I_ItDj76PBKU8DSIEJMqnLsqs7dm6MpHMtLzmujRV6nyvRE11DwhXcWPg7VqRK3R34rBBo9F0yYgBs3zS0p0gcszPb2RZEy_nCVMwQVmRuSq4ZnYgjrbkaRabhz8z1jmXtEfhlZ4/s320/100_3286.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089353330120786" border="0" /></a><br />You also got to meet one of the oldest members of our family, <a href="http://our-married-life.blogspot.com/2009/09/joey-meet-charlie.html">Charlie the tortoise</a>. I thought you might be scared of him, but nope! You were curious as always.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwkPQcxU7Qv215dgQl7Y8V7VIetOy8Fb6hjzsxljbhORIW6Bi7DRqRY0QxTFf9a8Ng1l_-uPI0l_3Xi7q237b5dPhQbw0zPJABTfd40TozCAsgO3XMK9rJD4XKrM6hjUi64l_ihMRioQ/s1600-h/DCP_2254_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGwkPQcxU7Qv215dgQl7Y8V7VIetOy8Fb6hjzsxljbhORIW6Bi7DRqRY0QxTFf9a8Ng1l_-uPI0l_3Xi7q237b5dPhQbw0zPJABTfd40TozCAsgO3XMK9rJD4XKrM6hjUi64l_ihMRioQ/s320/DCP_2254_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387091208426660754" border="0" /></a><br />I know the next 6 months will bring even bigger changes than the first 6. And no matter how much I try to stay on top of these changes, I know you will always be one step ahead of me. I guess all I can do is hope I don't miss a thing.<br /><br />We love you so much, baby.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3USgC45VCjEWu9yLMtilkwX5kE1rTA-QPeJL26tTfICKmoa0-ruRsDkDG_stRQd0ihb693iZyJ-Nm4qdQd9-Rzl6N42La_VPP8zTmrx-jnMp5Guz-x-g1hIHY5yvWbNhWC8YYFmcvqk/s1600-h/100_3361.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE3USgC45VCjEWu9yLMtilkwX5kE1rTA-QPeJL26tTfICKmoa0-ruRsDkDG_stRQd0ihb693iZyJ-Nm4qdQd9-Rzl6N42La_VPP8zTmrx-jnMp5Guz-x-g1hIHY5yvWbNhWC8YYFmcvqk/s320/100_3361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089608948469906" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKGBepNGO68sQ2gG-gw-6SRr_F1BD7uFsZk0IReTYox1_dRPC5Hhf5KGvPw72nUf7IJOMLekH0t65qV1InvDjdktLGCdltL2Ec8lpeJrnjgoRL0jvsk9n3yAx7ZAhZVFomQpMa6U63eU/s1600-h/100_3357.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvKGBepNGO68sQ2gG-gw-6SRr_F1BD7uFsZk0IReTYox1_dRPC5Hhf5KGvPw72nUf7IJOMLekH0t65qV1InvDjdktLGCdltL2Ec8lpeJrnjgoRL0jvsk9n3yAx7ZAhZVFomQpMa6U63eU/s320/100_3357.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387089380575099858" border="0" /></a><br />Love,<br />Mom<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTZpEQ40_R5dzcKkrIIiq7TO34iP2CLpqCvp-c4MuO1SBU6VYzo1JCPvKi2LTrOTXOkUBtnnR8MhkWaFh0KNxXGUZwWwQutQirGXRLNAxKkfrWnj56Ml_zsBKg9S_BCsUe7uuGqf4Vpg/s1600-h/100_3275.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBTZpEQ40_R5dzcKkrIIiq7TO34iP2CLpqCvp-c4MuO1SBU6VYzo1JCPvKi2LTrOTXOkUBtnnR8MhkWaFh0KNxXGUZwWwQutQirGXRLNAxKkfrWnj56Ml_zsBKg9S_BCsUe7uuGqf4Vpg/s320/100_3275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387087707201363266" border="0" /></a>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-20612086315781256352009-09-27T09:59:00.000-07:002009-09-27T10:12:26.562-07:00Joey, Meet CharlieOn Saturday, Joey met one of the oldest living members of our family: Charlie the Tortoise. Joey's great uncle got Charlie when he was about 10 years old, so this makes Charlie at least 50. Charlie has been on countless show-and-tell days at school, and I'm sure Joey will probably take him one day, too. Believe it or not, Charlie has actually run away a few times (yes, I know he's a tortoise, and "run" and "tortoise" are not often found in the same sentence, but believe me, this guy can really truck!). Thankfully, we found him each time. He is very curious - the moment I put Joey down on his blanket, Charlie saw him and immediately headed his way - and he even responds to his name when you call him. It really is one of the funniest things. So, without further ado, <span style="font-style: italic;">Joey, meet Charlie!</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0q5Qv7BEJv8Fk9NLTqZ5dtm5c1WyvJlD7G5eXsJPZuhS0s7WPkHFlgE5P7cdEHGVukh-LqrHZrD-2uEZgkWYWDWrB6byFw91yOGSrWS54vAnCqimlyx6BnuRd5Km1RLHZhYXrojaepc/s1600-h/DCP_2266_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0q5Qv7BEJv8Fk9NLTqZ5dtm5c1WyvJlD7G5eXsJPZuhS0s7WPkHFlgE5P7cdEHGVukh-LqrHZrD-2uEZgkWYWDWrB6byFw91yOGSrWS54vAnCqimlyx6BnuRd5Km1RLHZhYXrojaepc/s320/DCP_2266_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195436928346994" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWY4UbqiJX0KJWWMIStc5l_mOzj854k63ukOtDxku1bwQA3UP515zW5iaGSKBuT3nOfUGH8xLGp_y_ZxcuRFr0pVTN5cb5b3Vi7r_sggWC1f_ZEMp2Q1QxN0jhWKGjmCLyTrmQS22z08/s1600-h/DCP_2255_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBWY4UbqiJX0KJWWMIStc5l_mOzj854k63ukOtDxku1bwQA3UP515zW5iaGSKBuT3nOfUGH8xLGp_y_ZxcuRFr0pVTN5cb5b3Vi7r_sggWC1f_ZEMp2Q1QxN0jhWKGjmCLyTrmQS22z08/s320/DCP_2255_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195427070806882" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN47wZ9DPU8C4jq2-n7mRg9Z8dMyTXgs1LFJe-d_tpQpFFIzXftebewNQnR8NCnXwuk8Vm6SeDB3S7XPwPLOElBKurBGM3GgzDSiXSF4kUgO6m3pmFlzEMtTDDn5hqLhq7qL6vx0qL3ck/s1600-h/DCP_2254_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN47wZ9DPU8C4jq2-n7mRg9Z8dMyTXgs1LFJe-d_tpQpFFIzXftebewNQnR8NCnXwuk8Vm6SeDB3S7XPwPLOElBKurBGM3GgzDSiXSF4kUgO6m3pmFlzEMtTDDn5hqLhq7qL6vx0qL3ck/s320/DCP_2254_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195419288477346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl43q_4zFjFeuDaE3wU7rLBq3_PbqHZiF4Dk6SmuGJiT07SmP5clP-AFWgt4tVkaIBR2Y5JdXemcs3FeaeCP4agiTOsxgTdDSoqo7ZWWgCVNXd3emMaksJFJZFDFPlnh5VYAxjMKrGGw/s1600-h/DCP_2253_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl43q_4zFjFeuDaE3wU7rLBq3_PbqHZiF4Dk6SmuGJiT07SmP5clP-AFWgt4tVkaIBR2Y5JdXemcs3FeaeCP4agiTOsxgTdDSoqo7ZWWgCVNXd3emMaksJFJZFDFPlnh5VYAxjMKrGGw/s320/DCP_2253_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195410826180354" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HrTl2yH9ZhLvczqhfjtu9q4dEFUI_ooxpc2m3Qy28BdnzTNUcU_ZeJx7XOFQAygE2N8dceqEWIZ85Xo72kI4r6Gz4vf3PQfUy4pklVfVAt-f11Re5UMpiyZJDbxEEXJMQ8L-nSiW-Lc/s1600-h/DCP_2259_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_HrTl2yH9ZhLvczqhfjtu9q4dEFUI_ooxpc2m3Qy28BdnzTNUcU_ZeJx7XOFQAygE2N8dceqEWIZ85Xo72kI4r6Gz4vf3PQfUy4pklVfVAt-f11Re5UMpiyZJDbxEEXJMQ8L-nSiW-Lc/s320/DCP_2259_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195434659503938" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-O17Ot0UhwSXnORf1gRKkRmT5jKfuJdLnhe176T_0KjRDiGZqB3V0P_93C3mUoU3x0hwdZsqG0WKI38tsKRTeeIBCmJpqQP366C422io-UAlC7YaWISypuwkf53SIsLExGRWddBN_jw/s1600-h/DCP_2262_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-O17Ot0UhwSXnORf1gRKkRmT5jKfuJdLnhe176T_0KjRDiGZqB3V0P_93C3mUoU3x0hwdZsqG0WKI38tsKRTeeIBCmJpqQP366C422io-UAlC7YaWISypuwkf53SIsLExGRWddBN_jw/s320/DCP_2262_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386195523762851842" border="0" /></a>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-33857521649364333122009-09-04T20:45:00.000-07:002009-09-04T20:45:00.269-07:00Five MonthsDear Joey,<br /><br />Last Saturday, you turned 5 months old. As with the past four months, I don't even know where to start! You can roll from your belly to your back, and your back to your belly, but you haven't figured out that doing this can actually get you places. Instead you scoot - mostly backwards or in circles though. You are so interested in everything around you, and you get royally frustrated that you cannot get to them. I will set you down on the floor, go in the kitchen to grab a drink, and when I come back, you have managed to spin yourself 180°. I am in SO much trouble when you figure out how to crawl!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7_VFRWxrW75BmV8t-ohIucxy6dLhXPt7Ltqq0UgZb6mB6MBys9wpkZCf4ztuPJPzF28oz8JE5OHJUJTslZfbAWhtIveed6Id8OUb_xeQQYHhlmJ5tfdukuDrlq5F8efViFj0cOYxJNo/s1600-h/100_3072.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO7_VFRWxrW75BmV8t-ohIucxy6dLhXPt7Ltqq0UgZb6mB6MBys9wpkZCf4ztuPJPzF28oz8JE5OHJUJTslZfbAWhtIveed6Id8OUb_xeQQYHhlmJ5tfdukuDrlq5F8efViFj0cOYxJNo/s320/100_3072.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377819288492178066" border="0" /></a><br />You are figuring out how to entertain yourself more and more, and you will sit in your portable crib at the shop and play with your toys while I get a little work done. Part of me is so happy that I don't have to entertain you constantly anymore, but another part of me is sad that every day you grow and you don't need me a little bit more. Or maybe you just need me in different ways. As you continue to grow and change, so will our relationship.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOToNtn9tXw1IyviQFpj0KifCle5tZ6vrnXWk8awrno0KQKUFbxbUaV9DpiyDjzTduuyVW9tJj05RfOsbEG9F7lTGgY0MoONrFEFQtQb6jIohnyJVC-NCGyQ7epkawx318jU9AVGeukA/s1600-h/100_3080.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOToNtn9tXw1IyviQFpj0KifCle5tZ6vrnXWk8awrno0KQKUFbxbUaV9DpiyDjzTduuyVW9tJj05RfOsbEG9F7lTGgY0MoONrFEFQtQb6jIohnyJVC-NCGyQ7epkawx318jU9AVGeukA/s320/100_3080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377819292847848706" border="0" /></a><br />You laugh at the weirdest things these days. Today, you had the hiccups, so I jokingly tried to scare them out of you by grabbing your tummy and saying, "BOO!" It didn't get rid of your hiccups, but it did make you laugh, so of course I did it over, and over again. Your daddy still makes you laugh more than anyone, and listening to the two of you is the best sound ever.<br /><br />When you are in a bad mood, I can usually sing to you or put some music on, and you cheer up (even if it only lasts for a brief moment). I am hoping this is a little hint that you might love music just as much as I do some day. You also love to "dance" with me, and you smile and giggle when I sing to you, twirl you, and bounce you around.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNnlSv_dFhBMQf53X8dAoG41MuQ5hrCqR2nwjNAp0_TV-h5TZVKgRpL4wqx-iyco-XW1aTYlevJKGHaT_jEIxtsSdH0c6xvQji5SrDjXg6VhPv1MEgblGuY7ZaEQT1g0YpqEnq0MGn1A/s1600-h/100_3020.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbNnlSv_dFhBMQf53X8dAoG41MuQ5hrCqR2nwjNAp0_TV-h5TZVKgRpL4wqx-iyco-XW1aTYlevJKGHaT_jEIxtsSdH0c6xvQji5SrDjXg6VhPv1MEgblGuY7ZaEQT1g0YpqEnq0MGn1A/s320/100_3020.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377818776559191074" border="0" /></a><br />You are no longer a floppy little baby, but you you are not yet a toddler. And yet you have already developed such a strong personality and opinions about everything. You know what you like and dislike, and you have the facial expressions to match. Sometimes you look so concerned, that I wonder what you are thinking about. Wondering what could make your brow furrow so deeply. I tell you, "Don't worry! You have the rest of your life to worry. Enjoy being a kid!" Wow, I sound like your grandma!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1hpA-dR34gOUp2SJUy8VONk7WPfgV4May4tucSOnkAwYYEg13ckxTVdXpxRqLLSpgKlVkPzZmyfjLln8Mv4S8NbeuxfWUxoolND0dVFzEu43l0LyTBQy9i3yblRMu99TCjXPLCci2f8/s1600-h/100_3051.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA1hpA-dR34gOUp2SJUy8VONk7WPfgV4May4tucSOnkAwYYEg13ckxTVdXpxRqLLSpgKlVkPzZmyfjLln8Mv4S8NbeuxfWUxoolND0dVFzEu43l0LyTBQy9i3yblRMu99TCjXPLCci2f8/s320/100_3051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377818786774018514" border="0" /></a><br />You are trying lots of new things these days. We started you on rice cereal after your last appointment with Dr. M. You were having some issues with what I thought was acid reflux, and after talking to him, he said that I just might be right. He said he could give you some medicine for it, or the cereal might help. I decided not go the medicine route, and try the rice cereal instead. You absolutely hated it the first time you tried it! I don't know if it was the texture, or the taste, but you were not happy with it at all! It took about two weeks of trying (and some mashed banana) to get you to eat more than a bite, and you haven't looked back since! We have added some other solid foods to your diet, too. Bananas are definitely your favorite, but you also love sweet potatoes and peas.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSe6YoVtOaOhmkXZ0thg50ZmVMV-QbKApupC8VGzBFJ3rJQj2M-5fJNE7wu9chxUN8mXkjJ10QhXt7jFvTybkx27Arcm2mBJIN6sNF5G0sqTXdFvjaUIi8rEVoF8r6tcce_duycUwbQq8/s1600-h/100_2991_2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSe6YoVtOaOhmkXZ0thg50ZmVMV-QbKApupC8VGzBFJ3rJQj2M-5fJNE7wu9chxUN8mXkjJ10QhXt7jFvTybkx27Arcm2mBJIN6sNF5G0sqTXdFvjaUIi8rEVoF8r6tcce_duycUwbQq8/s320/100_2991_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377820911103908210" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFeg4ztfCloyFLcb5hXsyopzqBjsV9GP6FoRhv5jxLkLKX2ugQpK9A6iglrj9OXxZmzjfmfeCb1CbGWwFOhbSBoj3rR0H13ghAMwo6YTgKgywWJdUdZsbW2fFyMa5VBzlAcbupqvge4M/s1600-h/100_3003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuFeg4ztfCloyFLcb5hXsyopzqBjsV9GP6FoRhv5jxLkLKX2ugQpK9A6iglrj9OXxZmzjfmfeCb1CbGWwFOhbSBoj3rR0H13ghAMwo6YTgKgywWJdUdZsbW2fFyMa5VBzlAcbupqvge4M/s320/100_3003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377818758437963266" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhFHIf8PfIyxhausA6tMLn8CUo2t761da00eHP5oZYeIFWCzodDGOHXOjdVKt-JQn3D2d4iidrIcYn3hyphenhyphenzy8XmgWcIJ09xn-ev4IxFDygDjQ97fyDhVfwej0lJMS-IiWcfyF2AySRpMs/s1600-h/100_3067.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhFHIf8PfIyxhausA6tMLn8CUo2t761da00eHP5oZYeIFWCzodDGOHXOjdVKt-JQn3D2d4iidrIcYn3hyphenhyphenzy8XmgWcIJ09xn-ev4IxFDygDjQ97fyDhVfwej0lJMS-IiWcfyF2AySRpMs/s320/100_3067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377819281378050322" border="0" /></a><br />I have been making all your food so far, but I picked up some pre-prepared baby food to toss in the diaper bag for when we are out and about. Peaches, bananas, and peas. You tried the peaches first... and hated them! I thought it was just the peaches, after all, peaches do have kind of a different flavor (what am I saying, everything has a "different" flavor to you!) and <span style="font-style: italic;">I</span> don't like them too much, so I figured maybe you just weren't a "peach" kind of guy. Then we tried the bananas. Now, it is true that whatever is in that little Gerber container is exactly what I make you at home (well, there is some vitamin C, and what have you in there to keep them from turning funny colors, but basically the same thing). But I must say, those bananas didn't really smell like bananas to me, and you were not fooled! You spit them out, and cried, and wanted nothing to do with the food in the jar. Again, another strong opinion!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxmByZYCFG0jALxZVZLiQI75uTJgyDeHrQLixOpza_kaSlfhJayItvJNObPes4EK64n1sor7_rGVwM8g-qfsWPcPmrry3bm3r_M6D7Cc63iWX6OjxmNglevVk_FOMLWlXbNd9izQ-v1g/s1600-h/100_3102.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxmByZYCFG0jALxZVZLiQI75uTJgyDeHrQLixOpza_kaSlfhJayItvJNObPes4EK64n1sor7_rGVwM8g-qfsWPcPmrry3bm3r_M6D7Cc63iWX6OjxmNglevVk_FOMLWlXbNd9izQ-v1g/s320/100_3102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377819300453418466" border="0" /></a><br />One night this month, mommy went out with her friend, <a href="http://www.quietdowncobwebs.com/">Meghan</a>. Meghan brought Phoebe and her daddy, Geoff, over to hang out with you and daddy while we were out. We left the two of you in "Daddy Day Care" for a couple of hours. When we got home, you were asleep in your crib, there were toys and books all over the floor and Phoebe and the daddies looked exhausted! Daddy told me that he walked you around and around the kitchen island (his usual calming technique), and Phoebe crawled and followed wherever he went with you!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RZ2pBdb93lE6CO5s_UddNofaH8VsZsTmCuqQY00_80I6jeOds9Woskgk1Lz8XPihgrB1ALLQSguTqkrMmLSqZjIulNCmg4FRCf-kt1C2meXDmKeesBjQzKln3aiMlNFYMGx0hrd-5es/s1600-h/100_3007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-RZ2pBdb93lE6CO5s_UddNofaH8VsZsTmCuqQY00_80I6jeOds9Woskgk1Lz8XPihgrB1ALLQSguTqkrMmLSqZjIulNCmg4FRCf-kt1C2meXDmKeesBjQzKln3aiMlNFYMGx0hrd-5es/s320/100_3007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377818767654298722" border="0" /></a><br />I have a feeling you will be crawling soon, too, but I'm in no rush for you to. I really don't think I will ever get used to how quickly you change - on one hand, I wish I could stop time and you could stay little forever, and on the other hand, I am anxious and excited to see what you will achieve next. For now though, I will cherish each time you fall asleep on my lap, or give me a big kiss, or laugh at the most simple thing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhan77QBWEXwMiALHmsBweIx8LAVy5dbyiY93NQGA2lqUZxxXgBlEJiWE5w2FZRkErUgFzwYaDgvxD-KlQ0Xb9WsRVXg3VgYGzYd30eA8-yy9SkDr8YN-Bud-zFYJS8yyeE5ZMHUYHaQMI/s1600-h/100_3120.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhan77QBWEXwMiALHmsBweIx8LAVy5dbyiY93NQGA2lqUZxxXgBlEJiWE5w2FZRkErUgFzwYaDgvxD-KlQ0Xb9WsRVXg3VgYGzYd30eA8-yy9SkDr8YN-Bud-zFYJS8yyeE5ZMHUYHaQMI/s320/100_3120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377819310618220466" border="0" /></a>Love,<br />MomAnniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-22784041216711381702009-08-13T17:43:00.000-07:002009-08-13T17:51:17.036-07:00Why I Love MikeThis afternoon, Mike had a friend from work over for a couple of hours. Joey was in a good mood, and actually laid on the floor and played for a while. At one point, I looked up from my work, and Joey was playing with toys and would look up at the TV from time to time. Since no one else was in the living room, I changed the TV to <a href="http://www.noggin.com/">Noggin</a>, you know, just so I'd feel better that my 4.5 month old was watching TV. Ha ha. Anyway, he eventually got cranky, so I put him in his crib for a nap, but didn't change the TV. Mike and his coworker were talking in the kitchen, and I was milling around and cleaning. When I was doing dishes, I heard Mike go, "I'd never leave my kid with <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">that</span> guy." <div><br /></div><div>Immediately, I think <a href="http://www.nickjr.com/shows/yo-gabba-gabba/index.jhtml">Yo Gabba Gabba</a> is on, so I peer around the pantry to take a look. And it's <a href="http://www.nickjr.co.uk/shows/blues/index.aspx">Blue's Clues</a>. Really? He wouldn't leave our child with the Blue's Clues dude? I didn't ask why - frankly it's funnier to me if I don't know. </div>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6846817145674795506.post-64114231618038687682009-08-11T20:30:00.000-07:002009-08-11T20:44:34.553-07:00Writer's BlockI haven't been posting nearly as much as I'd like lately. My initial intention was to write about our married life - I mean, that's what this blog is called, right? Duh. OK, so things happened - all part of our married life, so they're fitting, I guess. I just feel like the last 4.5 months have been so wrapped up in all things baby, that I forget about all the other things that are going on. Like the awesome night Mike and I had at <a href="http://www.blackcatbistro.com/">The Black Cat</a> for his birthday. We took our time. We lingered at the bar before out table was ready, ate multiple courses, had that extra glass of wine - Mike even drank a martini! It was his birthday, after all. I guess that having time to myself these days is such a rarity that I don't know what to do next when it happens. I mean, I get a new magazine in the mail and think, really, it's been a month already? I've barely cracked the spine on last month's issue. (Thank goodness <a href="http://www.realsimple.com">Real Simple</a> comes with a bookmark, 'cuz you know, someday I'll make it through that whole pile of unfinished reading, right?) <div><br /></div><div>Tonight, Mike is working, and the baby went down at 7:15. I actually found myself thinking, should I do this, or that, or take a shower... or can a shower wait until morning? As you can see, so far I've chosen this or that and not the shower. My house is a mess. My laundry is sitting in front of me here on the table. I have work to do. But a glass of wine and watching Janis Joplin and Neil Young on vh1 classic got top billing tonight. </div>Anniehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17397842532741650770noreply@blogger.com1