It was a good year

Emmie (rocking her new hairstyle) and Jack (rocking his shameless commercialism) would like to wish you all a Happy New Year!

When 2008 dawned, I was trying my best not to go into labor while Josh was at the Rose Bowl. We had one child and a multi-unit house.

As 2008 draws to a close, we have a single-family house that is home to two kids. This year has been very good for us both personally and professionally. But we are most thankful for our family, friends and good health.

I wish all of you a Happy New Year! Now I am off to eat Mexican food and drink some adult beverages, followed by a morning of sleeping in. Apparently, 2009 is going to start off on the right foot as the children are sleeping over at Grandma and Grandpa's house!

Merry Christmas from all of us at Snarky Mommy

Santa was good to us this year. Hope you and yours had a delightful holiday.

Emmie: Eleven months

Dear Emmie,

We're almost there! You turned 11 months old today, which means we're officially in your 12th month, which means you are officially freaking me out with how fast you are growing up. Please slow down, just for this month, mkay?



What a crazy last month it has been for you, too. Your mobility has increased greatly, with you speed-crawling on all fours and cruising upright around the furniture. You've started to let go and balance for a few short seconds as well, so we're convinced it won't be long before you're taking those first steps. Your newfound abilities mean I can't take my eyes off you for a second anymore because if I do, you inevitably start eating road salt off our boots in the front hall or trying to lick your brother's potty seat in the bathroom or climbing up the stairs by yourself. If only I could put your growing independence to good use for things like folding laundry, we'd be in business.

A lot of that laundry I speak of consists of your bibs because you really get into your eating. This past month you started feeding yourself more and more and I would say you're eating about 90 percent tablefood now. You will eat pretty much anything we put in front of you, which is amazing to us because we had the ultimate picky eater in your brother, so the idea of a baby actually eating peas or banana in real-people form is mind-blowing. You love scrambled egg yolks, pancakes, hummus and pita bread, almond butter or turkey sandwiches and rice cheese. Peas and carrots are a big hit and I think you might actually lose consciousness when you see the wrapper for a cereal bar. You get so excited that you kick your legs and wave your arms and generally make excited noises until you get the first bite in your little mouth. You haven't had any dairy products directly yet, but you seem to be tolerating me eating more cheese and ice cream, so I have high hopes that we can introduce dairy next month with little problem.



You're still breastfeeding four times during the day and once or twice overnight. While I am looking forward to starting the weaning process next month, I am also feeling a little conflicted about it. I am not sure how we will eliminate these nightwakings you are so fond of without the boob to soothe you back to sleep. I was all ready with the cry-it-out earlier this month and you even slept through a few times, but then the illness train stopped at our house and it all went to pieces.



Earlier in the month, you were fighting off a cold that was mostly a runny nose. I thought you had kicked it, but it came back within a week. That time it also brought multiple wakeups in the middle of the night and a fever. When you came down with what looked like a mottled rash, I took you in to the doctor and they said it was a double ear infection. They gave you some Amoxicillin and you were good as new. Until a week had gone by and you were covered in a rash that made you look like a leper. I took you back to the doctor and he said, after one look at you, that it was a classic penicillin allergy. But your ears were all clear, so we were A-OK. Until the next week, when multiple night wakings, green snot and a fever once again made an appearance. Yet another trip to the doctor confirmed another double ear infection. I am really hoping this means we're getting all your sicknesses out of the way early in the winter and you won't have any later on.

Your illnesses made you a little cranky, but you were pretty much still your sunny little self. Even when you had a fever, you were always happy to smile and play with your toys and you even learned how to play peek-a-boo at the pharmacy while we waited for your prescription. Now that's what I call a good patient. You also still wanted to play with your brother, despite your sickness and the fact he pretty much makes your life not very fun right now. Ever since you learned to stand and reach for things, he has tried to protect his turf by pushing you down. He could spend half the day in timeout for all his aggressiveness toward you, so if you ever want to get back at him for this when you are older, you have my permission. He does love you, which he demonstrates by hugging you and kissing you and trying to share his food with you. But things are a little rough in the sibling relations department right now. I know they will get better and then worse and then better again. It's the ebb and flow of a family, I guess.



Even when Jack is trying to keep you down, you are such a sweet girl. You love to play with cars and trucks, but I am guessing that's because those are the toys that are always around. You love your dinosaur that you can put balls in and have them come out different holes. You're really into putting things into other things and taking them out again. You still love banging on your little piano and playing with a chunky magnetic puzzle. But mostly your favorite thing is to stand at the toybox, reach in and grab toys and throw them on the floor. You would do that all day if I let you. Which I don't, because there are too many toys laying around already and I might lose my mind if all of them were on the floor at once.



But even when you do something you're not supposed to, I find it hard to get worked up about it. Compared to the stuff Jack gets in trouble for at almost 3 years old, you touching the fireplace or throwing food on the floor is nothing. In fact, I sometimes just laugh at you when you are doing something you're not supposed to do because you are so not slick about it. When you start crawling over to the fireplace, you laugh and look right at me like, "Wait, watch what I am going to do! It's going to be awesome." Usually you accept your redirection without comment, but occasionally you get worked up about it and howl with indignation. That's when I tend to laugh, because really, when you screw up your little face and yell, it's pretty funny. I know that your indignation won't always be funny, especially when you are telling me again how we are ruining your life by not letting you date when you are 12 years old, but for now, it's totally cute.

My new favorite part of the day is when I go in to get you up. You have taken to standing up in your crib and looking at the door through the bars. When I open the door you get so excited to see me that you start shaking the bars and laughing. It's so nice to be loved so much. But I assure you that my love for you is just as exciting.

Love,
Mommy

Ho ho ho!

Everybody loves Santa! This is great!


Emmie: Wait a minute, who the HELL is this dude and what am I doing on his lap?
Jack: Emmie, shut the hell up or he won't bring us any toys!


Emmie: Mommy! I don't want presents. I want you!
Jack: Emmie, seriously, I can't carry us both here. I want presents, knock it off.


Sorry about that dude, she's crazy. Now, about those presents...


Santa, I really don't want to pull your finger. Seriously. Just no. OK, OK, just once.


Why yes, I AM wearing a mink coat with a baby peeking out of it. It's freaking 10 degrees.

Let's not be rash

Emmie woke up this morning looking like this.


I, thinking she was a little young for acne, reacted with restraint and calmness. I at least waited until the office opened to call the pediatrician. They told us to come on in after I told them Emmie had a rash of mysterious origin.

The poor thing was in fine spirits, laughing and playing and being her generally cordial self. She napped well and ate well, so I didn't think she was sick. But my goodness, she was looking rather like a leper. I tried to keep her in the house, lest anyone be scared off by her appearance, but we had to do the preschool pickup. I think the staff ran away when they saw her condition.

Her doctor walked in and the first thing he asked was, "What antibiotic is Emily on?" He's like magic, that one. I love him. He looked in her chart and saw it was Amoxicillin (aka The Pink Medicine) and said this was a classic penicillin allergy. Not bad enough to be life-threatening, but still an allergy. It's now been entered into her permanent record. Dun dun dunnnnnnnnn.

She had been on it for a week before the rash violently exploded on her face, legs and arms, so I was confused. Shouldn't it have happened right after she took the first dose? Not so much. Apparently it can take a few days for the histamine to kick in and then boom, symptoms.

It had started to calm down a little this evening, 24 hours since her last dose. Hopefully by Friday it will gone. Nobody wants to see pictures of a little rashy girl on Santa's lap.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Gobble, gobble all you pilgrims.

Today I am thankful for my children, my husband, the rest of our families and our good health. May you and yours enjoy your turkey and pie and football.

At school last week, they asked all the kids what they were thankful for and posted the one-word answers on the door. Almost every child answered, "Mommy and Daddy." My kid? He said "school." Brownnoser.

What are you thankful for this year?

Busy day

Emmie and her double ear infection slept until 8:15 a.m. this morning. She did wake once at 6 a.m. and then we threw her in the swing and got two more hours out of her. So that was awesome.

Not so awesome was the fact she ran a fever off and on today. So apparently the three doses of antibiotics have yet to kick in. And I took her for the Thansgiving celebration at Jack's preschool this morning. In my defense, I had no other option and I didn't let her touch anyone else. And it's an ear infection, for God's sake. It's not like it's leaping from her ear to someone else's.

But oh my, what cuteness the Thanksgiving was. There were headbands and snacks and stories and snacks and did I mention the snacks? Because those were Jack's favorite part.



After turkey day at school, I put Emmie down for her nap and headed out with Jack for his flu vaccine. Lucky for Jack, he is old enough for the flu mist so he didn't have to get a shot. He was a trooper and collected his two stickers after allowing the nice nurse to "look in his nose," as Mommy put it.

Then this evening, Josh and I hosted a cocktail party for the parents in Jack's preschool class. We had a great time and it seemed like everyone else did as well. At least they left with a few glasses of wine under their belts, so it had to be somewhat fun.

Tomorrow, we begin our holiday travels hither and yon -- with two kids this year! One of them sick! I can't wait!

Look at my kids

NaBloPoMo: Making my blog suck in late November for three years!

Since I have nothing to say, let's look at pictures of the kids. I haven't posted any recently, anyway.

Emmie: Ten months

Dear Emmie,

It's double-digit time for you little girl! A whole 10 months you've been with us. And wow, have you done a lot this last month. I am pretty sure this has been one of your busiest months yet.



Now that you've been mobile for several weeks, you're getting more and more proficient at getting around. You still army-crawl 99 percent of the time, but more and more, you are taking a few tentative crawls on your hands and knees. But the army-crawling gets you where you need to go -- and pretty darn quickly I might add -- so you really don't see any need to do it the other way. But you are a pro at sitting yourself up now. You started pushing yourself up from your side with one arm, and now you can back yourself into a seated position from your hands and knees as well.

You are also an old pro at pulling yourself up now, as evidenced by the fact I found you standing in your crib grinning at me about two weeks ago. At this point, nothing is safe from you. You pull up on the couch, the ottoman, the exersaucer, your crib, the fireplace and my leg when I am standing in your general vicinty. You once tried to pull yourself up on Jack, but he was having none of it and you just toppled right over when he scrambled to his feet to get away from you.



I have seen you stand unassisted for about seven seconds on a couple of occasions, and you're starting to cruise along the ottoman to get to toys or remotes out of your reach. You so love the remote and even know to point it at the TV when you are playing with the buttons. Smart girl, but don't even think about turning off the football game to watch PBS.

The vacuum is getting quite a workout these days because you are smack in the middle of the "put everything in your mouth" stage. Last week you tried to consume a plaster chip, a dried-up piece of pancake that had fallen off your brother's plate undetected, a torn-up piece of coloring book and 571 pieces of fuzz off the carpet. I could vacuum four times a day and you would still spot the teeniest piece of string from across the room and make a beeline for what you hope is your afternoon snack. While it is resulting in a much cleaner house, it's still pretty annoying to be fishing stuff out of your cheeks all the time.



It's not like you're not getting enough food at mealtimes. You are starting to eat more tablefood here and there, like pieces of pancake and turkey or scrambled egg yolks. I am pretty sure you would live on Veggie Booty alone if we let you, but you're pretty amenable to eating the two jars of baby food we give you at all meals. Because you still can't have any dairy products, we were lucky to find a new yogurt made from coconut milk. Because it's dairy- and soy-free, you are allowed to eat it and I must say, it's quite tasty. You gobble it up and look pretty content, so it's a good thing.

The breastfeeding has gotten a lot better this month after last month's distractable disasters. You are more on task and doing longer sessions, which makes me feel better about how much you are taking in. Of course, you are getting more in during the night because YOU ARE WAKING UP MULTIPLE TIMES AGAIN. To say I am tired of being tired is an understatement. This past week, you were sick again and that meant lots of wakeups where only the boob would console you. Because you were sick, I took pity on you and fed you every time you cried. Which one night was at 10 p.m. and 1, 3, 5, 6 and 7 a.m. It's like you were a newborn again. Wheee! But once you appeared over the worst of it, I got you back on a somewhat-better schedule by making you cry out the first wakeup. Last night you were awake for the first time at 1 a.m., which is better than 11 p.m., but not great by any means. You had been sleeping from 7:30 p.m. to 5 a.m. for a few weeks and I am hoping you will start doing that again. Real soon.



As for your sunny disposition, it continues to be the most charming part of your personality. You are almost always smiley and happy and content to babble away at your toys or your books. You stop to look at your brother like he is crazy whenever he deems you acceptable to play near. You save your best smiles and laughs for Daddy because apparently he is the light of your life. You definitely don't like it when I leave a room, but you can be pacified if Daddy is around.

One of the only times it is acceptable for me to actually leave you in the other room for a few minutes is when your brother is around. You love to watch him run around and play and now that you can get around, you really try very hard to play with him. He's not exactly keen on that idea, however, and it's led to some battles. Just today, you started to play with his garage and cars and he fuh-reaked out on you and you may or may not have been kicked in the head. He is having a hard time sharing, and will instead try to bring you some other toy to play with. But because you are so easy-going, you generally accept the substitute with a smile. You also get so excited in the morning when we go into his room, kicking your legs and laughing and trying to throw your little body at the door to get it open. He has been less rough with you as each month has gone by and he really does love you too. Just today when he got home from the park, he ran over to you and said, "Hi Emmie! Jack home from the park. Jack give Emmie a kiss!"



Every day I look at you and I think to myself, "I will remember her like this forever." And then the very next week, you already look different and I have forgotten that previous stage. I was looking back at some pictures of you this weekend from the previous months and I can't believe how much you have changed. You used to have chubby little baby cheeks at one point and now it's all dimples and cheekbones. Your little blonde hair is starting to darken up with the winter, and I think it might be a thing of the past soon. Your eyes are definitely settling into a nice shade of hazel, which proves to me I really was in the room when you were conceived! Finally, something that I can say looks like me, since you're clearly the spitting image of your father. Hopefully you will get my brains and good humor -- and humility -- as well. But whatever you end up looking like, I will always remember what a sweet, sweet little girl you were when you were 10 months old.

Love,
Mommy

New 'do

Today, I decided Jack needed to shake things up a little bit, style-wise. I took him for a haircut this afternoon and told the woman to give him that spiky/messy cut that all the fashionable young men are sporting these days.

After she was done, I clapped and laughed and just could not believe how different he looked. Amazing what a little hair product can do for a toddler. Every time I look at him, I do a double-take because he just looks so different.



He's really not a baby anymore. He's definitely my little boy.

Little of this, little of that

Last night, as you can see on my Twitter feed, Josh and I attended the Obama election rally in Grant Park with our friend, Ed. It was amazing. We were surrounded by tens of thousands of people who jumped to their feet everytime CNN flashed the graphic that it was about to call a state. Tens of thousands who cheered every state annoucement. Tens of thousands who screamed and clapped, and even cried, when they called it all for Barack Obama.

I have seen my favorite team win a World Series, but the electricity of the crowd at Grant Park far surpassed the mood at Busch Stadium two years ago. It was like nothing I have seen before. I am so glad I was able to be a part of it.



But my enthusiasm was tempered when I got home and saw the day's update from my friend Jenny, CiCi's mom. Jenny said CiCi has suffered brain damage in all parts of her brain and they just don't know what her prognosis will be in the long term.

I encourage you to read her update. If you ever wondered what true selflessness looks like, look no further than Jenny. I am not sure I could get to the place she has gotten at all, much less within a week of the accident. She has inspired me more than she knows with her reaction to all of this.

Get out and vote!

As you can see, Jack is carefully reviewing his ballot for accuracy while Emmie has already cast hers. I had the same look on my face as she does after voting for eleventy-billion Cook County judges. I am not kidding, there had to be 50 on the ballot and you had to mark each one.

I would not, however, advise you to vote with two children in tow. By yourself. With no stroller. Actually, they should just rescind my voting rights for even thinking I could do such a thing.

We vote at a firehouse. So of course, everything in the garage is of the utmost importance to an almost-3-year-old who can't keep his hands to himself. He somehow got ahold of a hose and dripped water on the floor and then started pumping some blue gunk out of a bottle. He was never more than 36 inches from me while this happened.

Through gritted teeth I hissed there would BE NO ELMO TONIGHT while I grabbed him and wedged his upper arm between my knees. He then freed himself and melted into a puddle while yelling "Elmo! Elmo!"

Not to mention my left arm lost all feeling because I had to balance Emmie while trying to fill in the little lines with my right. She was squirming all over the place and looks like she was trying to be the ballot, as there is black marker all over her hands from where she kept trying to "help" me vote (read: grab the pen and eat it).

I walked out of the firestation after completing my ballot -- with one mistake where I voted yes and no for a judge because SOMEONE was grabbing my pen -- and I do believe the election judges were cheering as we departed. I did get a few dirty looks from other voters during this debacle, so thankyouverymuch Mr. Asshole In The Brown Jacket Who Clearly Has No Kids And Probably Hates Puppies And Rainbows Too.

However, as we walked up to the machine to insert my ballot, Jack pointed at the election judge and yelled, "OBAMA!" So at least he understood why we were there.

Trick or treat 2008

Trick or treat!


Elmo gets an early sugar rush.


Our little pumpkin.

Close observers might notice a major haircut in that last photo. That would be the result of 4 inches leaving my head this afternoon. I chickened out on bangs. Again. They scare me.

And how 'bout that road soda in that there picture? Who knew trick or treating involved beer?

(Also, an update on little CiCi: she is taking baby steps toward improvement, but they still don't know any more. Please continue to send your positive thoughts her way. Mom Jenny says knowing how many people out there are pulling for them is helping more than we can know.)

Picture pages, picture pages

Emmie got her nine-month pictures taken today. She charmed the photographer and smiled and laughed and giggled and generally acted like a little supermodel. I think they turned out quite well.

Cheering for you

Give me an E-M-M-I-E!

Sorry for the copout picture post, but after my slothful post last night, I stayed up late to fold and put away all the laundry, run the dishwasher and clean the kitchen. Then I cleaned out my closet and scrubbed the floors on my hands and knees today.

You could say I shamed myself into a clean house.

Wedding bells

I finally have some pictures of the kids from my sister-in-law's wedding and I could not be more happy with how they turned out. But when did my baby turn into a little boy?

Why?

It's started.

Three times this past week I have said something or other to our boy Jackson in the course of a conversation and he has replied, "Why?" When I heard that word my eyeballs spontaneously melted and rolled down my face.

I am not ready for The Why yet. I need a few more months! He's not supposed to be asking that until he's 3! I feel gypped! Why am I using so many exclamation points?!

However, the good thing about The Why is it shows how far his language has come. Shortly before he turned 2, I was worried because he wasn't even saying two-word combinations. But just yesterday, he said to me, "Ma go home, work in office." Subject, verb, compound sentence -- I think he's doing fine in the language department now. (Ma is what he calls Grandma.)

But he still says really cute stuff too, which I know will go away faster than I can write them down.

"Jack go home, play chicken." -- He calls his little play kitchen "chicken."

Applesaucer -- Emmie's exersaucer.

Narnie -- Aunt Marnie.

Fansin -- Aunt Marnie's dog, Madison.

Miss Wiz -- His teacher, Miss Liz.

Noodle cheese -- macaroni and cheese.

Mook -- Milk, different from "Guk," which is what he called it for a long time.

Fwim Shrunks -- Swim trunks.

Peepot -- Pizza.

Twenty-eleven -- The number he says after 22 every time he counts.

Love you too -- How he says "I love you," even when he says it first.

The finished results

The Great Remodel of 2008 is mostly complete, save for a few finish items here and there. As I promised, I do have photos!

Here are the big before and afters...

Looking back



Main wall of the living room



Looking front


New staircase


Those shelves are my pride and joy. I want to make out with them and I stare at them all the time thinking how awesome it is to have such a great place to show off my books.

Now that we have been living down there for a few weeks, I couldn't be happier with the results. The pain and suffering was all worth it. The kids have a place for all their toys and now the upstairs living room and kitchen look so awesome and clean and neat without plastic items strewn about on every surface.

Just today I was sitting downstairs trying to show Emmie how to crawl on the carpeting and Jack was playing with his new kitchen when I thought about how lucky I am. Thanks to Josh for making it possible for us to expand the house and keep me home with the kids.

Now about that third-floor bathroom, there's some changes I think I want...

Emmie: Eight months

Dear Emmie,

Today is your eight-month birthday. While it doesn't mean you have the right to vote or to drink a beer, it does mean you are now legally allowed to eat Cheerios. I'm not sure that's as momentous as turning 21 and drinking your face off in a bar in some college town, but it will have to suffice for now.



This last month has been pretty busy, what with a family wedding and trips to the lake and the completion of our new downstairs play area.

It's also been exciting because you finally started gaining some weight! Yep, that deserves an exclamation point because it's been a hard road since your six-month checkup revealed you were not gaining properly and were only in the 5th percentile. After we started stuffing you with solids three times a day and sneaking avocado and banana into almost everything, you gained 1.5 pounds in a month, putting you at a whopping 15.9 pounds, which is the 12th percentile. While you still have a ways to go, you are showing good progress, and we've got you eating two jars of food at each meal. I am pretty sure you will retain your thinness for the rest of your life, though, based on the skinny genes you inherited from Daddy. Which should help if skinny jeans ever come back into style. Yes, I just made a terrible pun. You can die of embarassment now.



You certainly won't need to worry about losing weight from all that moving you are doing. Because you're pretty content to not move anywhere. And why would you? If I'm not holding you, then you're sitting on the floor and your brother brings you your toys. You have no need to try to crawl. In fact, you must really not like the thought of crawling on your hands and knees because you scoot around on your butt. You stretch your legs out in front of you and dig in your heels and then pull your butt toward your knees, like some bizarre upright inchworm. You don't move fast, but you do move yourself enough to reach any object that catches your fancy. You also are grooving on the move where you reach for something, realize it's too far away, roll onto your back, roll back onto to your stomach so you've gone forward a few inches and reach out again. With your two modes of transportation, you can get pretty much anyplace you want to be.

You pulled yourself up a few times this past weekend, mostly from a sitting position on the couch with the arm of the couch as your leverage. You also pulled yourself up on Grandma, who was very excited to see such activity. But to be honest with you, I am nowhere near ready for you to crawl. Right now I can put you down on the floor with a few toys and you are right where I left you when I come back. Not that I ever leave the room. No, I am there watching you with both eyes 100 percent of the time. That's why it's so odd that you were able to launch yourself over the side of the bouncy seat in the kitchen last week and I found you hanging upside down with the seatbelt still in place around your waist. Can't fathom how that one happened.



I imagine the bouncy seat fiasco came about because you are getting extremely curious about everything now. You try to grab your food when we feed you, you want all of Jack's toys and you find the teeny tiniest little specks of crud on the floor and study them with interest. Right before you stick them in your mouth. It's so fun to watch you play now because you figure things out. You are starting to see how your toys work and different ways to play with them. You especially like standing up (mostly with our assistance, but sometimes on your own for a few seconds) at your activity table and moving all the buttons and levers and making the lights and sounds come on.


Your days of activity, combined with a little boost of Cry It Out, have resulted in much longer stretches of sleep at night. We've gotten eight straight hours from you several nights in the last week and you've definitely dropped the 11 p.m. feeding. Finally. It only took 7.5 months, but who's counting? The awesome part is that we can now put you down awake in your crib, turn on the sleep machine and the crib soother, and leave the room. Sometimes you fuss for a few minutes, but generally you are content to put yourself to sleep. You wake up once or twice during the night to eat, and I am fine with that for now. You're still breastfed on demand and you've settled in to a schedule where you clamor for the boob about four or five times during the day and a couple times during the night. We put you down for the night at 7 and you wake up for the day around 7:30 a.m. with naps at 9:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. At night, you wake around 1 a.m. and then come into bed with us for the rest of the night where you usually eat about three times. It's a good little schedule that is starting to work for everyone.


Your brother started school this month, just two times a week for two hours, and you seem to notice he is gone. You look around for him, but then are happy to go on about your busines, so you must not miss him too much. But you still adore him as much as ever. He must feel the same way because a few weeks ago, he said, "Love you Emmie" without any prompting from anyone. Just the other night you were sitting on the floor in the bathroom while he was in there and you were laughing these gut-busting giggles at him. Then he started laughing at you laughing, which made you laugh even harder. It brought tears to my eyes because I was so glad to see how happy you make each other. I know someday when you are annoyed with him as a teenager it will be hard to believe, but he will be there for you and you for him all of your lives. I hope you have the kind of relationship your daddy and I have with our siblings, because it's so awesome to have a built-in friend who has to put up with your crap even when no one else will.


This past month also saw your first foray into formal attire when you were the flower girl in Aunt Marnie's wedding. Jack was the ring bearer and he pushed you down the aisle in a little wagon and you two were quite possibly the cutest kids ever. You hung on and smiled and Jack stopped to ham it up for the crowd and everyone oohed and aahed over the two of you. You were so well-behaved and did a great job. But don't get any ideas that it means you get to attend any more weddings. No weddings for you until you are old enough to sit quietly and stay up late. So I guess that would be in about 11 more years. Maybe.


I have a feeling we are the cusp of several developmental changes this coming month and I hope separation anxiety is not one of them. You are still a pretty social baby, once you warm up to people. When you first encounter anyone other than me, Daddy or Jack, you turn your head into my shoulder and play coy. But then you peek out to see them again, and after a few seconds, you start smiling and interacting. The weekend of the wedding we left you with a non-family babysitter for the first time and you did great. You played and ate and slept fine, which was great because know we know if we needed to leave you with a sitter, we could. As always, the best part of leaving you is seeing you again for the first time. It's like you haven't seen me for months and you get your legs pumping and your arms atretching out for me and you make this excited noise that you only make when you see me. And it's the best part of any night out or any trip away. I hope you are always this excited to see me (although I know you won't be) because it's how I feel every time I look at you. I want to pump my legs and stretch out my arms to you and let you know how much I love you.

Love,
Mommy

Something smells

For the last week, Josh and I were under the impression that the recently-remodeled bathroom downstairs had a funk to it because they didn't properly seal some sort of pipe. Or the toilet. Or something (waving my hands in the air, encompassing anything that may or may not be smelly down there).

Today, one of the guys working on our house informed us that no, the pipes were fine. It was the ceiling that was rank. You see, a small bubble in the drywall on the ceiling that we thought was old and innocent and nothing to worry about was -- wait for it -- a leak from the toilet upstairs.

Seriously. Is this a joke? Are we on some sort of weird candid camera house rehab show? Is someone going to jump out of the crack between the baseboard and the floor (that would be the result of the half-inch drop we've experienced in the living room since the sill beam was replaced) and yell "surprise" and give us a whole new house?

No? Well, that sucks.

So we had to shut off the toilet on the main floor for the next week until they can replace the seal and let it dry. Yes that would be the bathroom Jack uses to pee several times a day and now he is all in a tizzy about it not working and crying "Pa fick it! Pa fick it!" Translation: Grandpa fix it. Because my father-in-law is a super genius and can fix anything (seriously) and Jack knows where it's at when it comes to getting his potty repaired.

In the meantime, I am just putting my fingers in my ears and singing "lalalalala" and ignoring the whole affair.

So in the spirit of ignorance, here's some pictures of my kids! Together! Which never happens anymore because Jack acts like I am the papparazzi and he is Lindsay Lohan.


Raw sewage in the ceiling? We love it!

Emmie: Seven months

Dear Emmie,

Today you are seven months old and I am pretty sure someone somewhere is skipping days on my calendar and not telling me because there is no way that much time could possibly have gone by.



We spent much of the last month on vacation, which coincided nicely with a major remodeling of the house. But as always, you were so laid-back and easy -- no matter where we dragged you. You spent time splashing in the lake, taking boat rides, playing with toys and hanging out with both sides of the family. You went on your first road trip, driving six hours to the North Woods of Wisconsin, and you braved it like a champ. You slept a lot and amused yourself in the carseat and were generally chill.



You started giving us a little baby wave this month, opening and closing your tiny hand, while staring at it in amazement. For a few days it was all you wanted to do, but then you kind of moved on and we get little waves every once in a while now. Just this past week you also started clapping. I wasn't sure you knew what you were doing, but we would clap and say, "Yay Emmie!" and you would stretch your arms out in front of you and start flapping your arms until your hands were clapping. You looked so proud of yourself, which made us laugh and clap even more, which made you laugh and clap more. Hours of entertainment, I tell you.

Your hands are still a source of great amusement to you. Every once in a while, you will be waving your little arms around and catch site of your hand and it stops you in your tracks. You will stare and turn your hand to examine it from every angle and start talking to it. I remember your brother doing the same thing, and it's no less cute the second time around with you.

You are starting to talk quite a bit now. We hear screeching and a lot of "ahhh" and "baaa" and of course, your first real-sounding word was "da." Come on! I am the one who feeds you, gets up with you multiple times a night and doesn't make you cry it out. What about some love for mama? Your daddy was quite proud of himself and said it was clearly because he is your favorite.

I can't dispute that as the evidence is mounting. Whenever you look at him, you smile and wiggle and talk and generally act like a smitten girl. I might be the food source and the one you want in the middle of the night, but if he's in the room while you are awake, I am chopped liver. I think you might be turning into a Daddy's Girl, but we'll see how that works out for you when you're 16 and late for curfew and a boy drops you off outside the house.



The last month was also kind of worrisome. We took you in for your six-month pediatrician visit and they were concerned you weren't gaining enough weight. Apparently, the tall-skinny genes from your father are kicking into full effect. We suspected a little silent reflux, so we gave you Zantac for a few weeks, with no improvement. They wanted to make sure there weren't any underlying issues, so they sent you to see a pedicatric GI specialist. His advice was to start feeding you three or four solid meals per day in addition to breastfeeding on demand. So you went from a little oatmeal with fruit once a day to eating three meals with either banana and avocado mixed in to pump up the fat content. They asked me how committed I was to breastfeeding on a scale of 1 to 10 and I said definitely a 10. I don't want to give you formula if I don't have to, so I am happy to not eat dairy to keep your tummy happy. I am convinced you're just skinny, and they noted you are meeting all your milestones and are such a happy baby, so I am not worrying about it. You'll gain weight on your own pace.



Now that you have mastered sitting up and you can roll to the location of your choice in the room, things are getting interesting with your brother. You are a lot more into toys and inevitably, you both want the same one. I hear a lot of "No, Emmie, no!" coming out his mouth these days. It's mostly him ripping interesting toys out of your hands, which he then substitues with some discarded toy he doesn't want to play with, but every time it happens I feel bad for you because you always look so surprised as if to say, "Wait! What happened?" But you're also starting to become a little more grabby, and he's not so fond of it. Now when you get close enough to him, you usually end up grabbing his shirt or his hair and trying to bring yourself as close to him as possible. I hear a lot of "No touch! No touch, Emmie!" coming from Jack these days -- what I can only imagine is the beginning of years of me saying, "Nobody is touching anybody else, at all, ever again."



Speaking of not doing things ever again, I think sleep falls into that category. As you have for the last seven months, you still refuse to sleep through the night. And you don't wake up to eat just once, or even twice, but four or five times a night. It's gotten to the point I have declared it the new normal. Your GI doctor said once you gain a little weight and start loading up on the calories, you should start to sleep better. I had a hearty laugh at that notion, because I am convinced you will never sleep through the night and someday your poor husband will be getting up multiple times per night to get you a drink of water or a snack.

Your daddy and I spent a few days away from you and Jack recently and by the time the weekend was over, I was really looking forward to seeing both of your little faces. When we arrived to pick you up from Grandma and Grandpa, you were sleeping on Grandma's lap. You stirred a little when you heard my voice and you opened your eyes slightly and when you saw me, your eyes opened wide and you stared at me as if to say, "Is it really you Mommy?" I grabbed you and hugged you and you were so glad to see me. In the coming years, there will probably be tons of moments like this, except you will be all "Mooooooommmmmmm, stop kissing me. My friends are watching." Complete with eye rolls and slumping shoulders. But I will always, always be happy to see you.

Love,
Mommy

Picture time

Jack is going to be in his aunt Marnie's wedding in a few weeks, so we needed to try his tuxedo on. I think he looks dashing. The fake smile here is a lot better than him crying, putting his hand in front of his face and yelling, "No picture! No picture!" like we're the paparazzi. We get that every time he sees us pull out the camera these days.


Emmie, on the other hand, is still our sweet little girl who obliges our daily incessant snapping of photos. The dimples will distract any pitchers who dare to pitch her inside. She's going yard.

Continued travels

We shook all the sand out of our swimsuits, rinsed off all the sunscreen, packed up the car and left the lake today.




But our tour of Wisconsin is not over yet! Because the drywall is being installed at home, it's too dusty to take the kids there. So we went to my parents this morning, where the wee children were scheduled to stay for the weekend anyway so Josh and I can celebrate our anniversary and attend Lollapalooza. I believe the traditional gift for four years is Radiohead tickets, no?

Emmie: Six months

Dear Emmie,

Today is your six-month birthday and you have officially been with us for an entire half year. I just can't believe how fast the time has gone. It feels like it was just days ago that we were bringing you home from the hospital and watching you sleep all the time.



The last month has been filled with new things for you. The biggest was when you learned to sit up by yourself. One day I sat you on the floor and balanced you and you sat for five then eight then 10 seconds. By the next day, you could sit for a minute and now we can give you a toy and set you in place and you can sit there content for a few minutes. You look so proud of yourself when you do it, too. Like "Look at me! I am a big girl!"

The sitting was followed shortly thereafter by the ability to grab your feet, which delighted you to no end. You've been doing crunches for the last two months and we finally figured out that you do them so you can see your feet. But then you figured out to bend your legs so you could access the feet and you were so pleased. And because you are a giant, you were also able to get your feet immediately into your mouth. Again, there was joy in Mudville.



When I say you are a giant, I am really not kidding. Your big doctor appointment is next week and I can't wait to see how long you are and how much you weigh. You are so long and skinny and your little face is just so petite. Your smile lights up the room and your dimples are so adorable I just want to eat your little face. Your biggest smiles are normally reserved for me and Daddy, but lately you have gotten a little shy around strangers and have been known to cry if an unknown person holds you, especially when you are in an unfamiliar environment.

Strangers can't help but say hello to you when we are out and about because of your hair. It is quite a conversation-starter with the three-inch blonde mane that stands straight up on the top. You look like a blonde baby Don King and it's so cute. Every night after your bath I comb it down and every morning when you wake up, there it is standing at attention once again. When it's wet and lying flat on your head you look like a totally different baby -- your face looks rounder and your cheeks look almost chubby.



You will get your first taste of solid food next week, after your doctor appointment. So far, you've been happy with the boob and everything is still going great with it. You eat every three hours and you really don't care if you get it from a bottle or straight from the source. As long as someone is feeding you, you are happy.

You're also a little rolling log these last few weeks. I put you down on your tummy and you roll immediately to your back, and then again to your front and before I know it, you're several feet from where I left you. But I never need to worry about losing you because your brother gives me a running commentary on everything you do now. "Emmie roll over! Emmie sit!"



Now that you can sit up and hold toys and interact more, Jack is much more interested in playing with you. He loves to bring you a toy and shove it into your hand for you to hold and he always tries to share his food with you. I have to remind him at every meal that you can't have any, but it is so nice of him to share. He is still hitting you here and there, but he spends more of his time loving you. Every morning when he wakes up, he asks "Emmie wake?" and if you happen to be awake and sitting in your bouncy seat in the bathroom when he comes in, he lays a huge unsolicited kiss on you. And every night before you go to bed he gives you a hug and a kiss and says, "Night night Emmie."

Most mornings, you wake up after him because you need to sleep in a little after being awake so many times during the night. We put you to bed between 6:30 and 7:30 every night and you usually give us a whopping three hours before you need to get up and eat again. Then you sleep for another three hours, when you want to eat. Again. Then you wake up about two hours later, which at this point is usually around 1-2 a.m. and I bring you into bed with me because I am too tired to keep getting up and feeding you. You eat a few more times while you are in bed with me before I finally put you in the swing around 6 a.m. for two hours. In total, I would say you are still waking about four times per night. It's killing me. But you're skinny so I haven't made you cry it out yet because I think you need the calories. Our big sleep breakthrough this month was transitioning you from your swing to the crib for all your naps, which you did quite well. One night you flipped onto your tummy and slept a little better and from then on, you became a tummy-sleeper. After you started that, you had no problem with the crib. I just give you a pacifier, rock you for about 10 seconds in my arms and put you down. You flip onto your stomach, sometimes fuss for a minute or two, and you're out like a light.

But even when you're not sleeping, which by extension means I'm not sleeping, I can't be upset with you because you are just so damn cute. You have started reaching out for me recently, which is such a great feeling. When I am holding you on my lap, you love to grab my face and pull it toward you and laugh. You are such a happy baby -- always up for anything we are doing, be it the park or a playgroup or just hanging out at home. When I get you up in the morning, you have a huge smile on your face and you kick your legs and make this hilarious gurgling noise deep in your throat. Then you bury your face in my neck as I smother you with kisses. I call you my Sweetie Emmie because you are just such a sweet, likeable little girl. I know you won't always be easy to like (hello, teenage hormones) but always remember that your Daddy and I love you very much.



My love for you has taken my breath away at times in the last six months. There are nights where I check on you at night and watch you sleep and I see your whole life spread out before you. I want such great things for you -- friendship, love, happiness -- and I know you will achieve big things. I can't wait to watch you grow into a strong, independent, educated woman. You have some great female role models in your life in your grandmothers and aunts, and of course me, so I hope you can learn from us. I certainly learn from you every day and just when I think I couldn't love you more, I do.

Love,
Mommy

My kid is Don King

Seriously, her hair is taking on a life of its own. It's about three inches long and stands STRAIGHT up on the top. People stop me on the street to comment how cute it is.


I did not stick my finger in a socket.

Emmie: Five months

Dear Emmie,

Can it really be five months already? Didn't I just write your four-month letter, like last week? Are you trying to grow up in fast-forward or is it just me?



Perhaps I just can't remember the last month because I am so tired that it all blended into one long sleepless night. You see, my little wide-eyed wonder, you came home from the hospital loving your sleep and you have slowly evolved into a non-sleeper. You go down for the night somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 p.m., after taking close to an hour to really fall asleep, and you wake up approximately five times between then and 7 a.m. If I didn't let you sleep next to me in my bed, I would truly be a walking zombie. We've taken to letting you sleep in your swing for naps and sometimes even at night; it does the trick and we can get a chart-breaking three uninterrupted hours out of you. But hey, looking on the bright side, all this night-waking is great for the milk supply!



I keep thinking maybe there is some magic bullet for sleep, but I know there's not. You'll do it when you're ready. And when you wake up (at 11, 1, 3, 5 and 7 -- not that I'm keeping track or anything) you truly do want to eat every time. The pacifier doesn't pacify you and you want the boob. So clearly, the breastfeeding is still going well. You are satisfied with it and I decided to hold off with the solids until next month. You've hit a cute stage where you pat me and pull on my shirt and play with my bra strap while you are eating, that is, when you're not pulling off and laying a huge grin on me. Although in the middle of the night, you're all business. You peck at me like a bird until I offer it up and then you just lunge for me and latch yourself on with reckless abandon.

Your new favorite thing to do the last few weeks is crunches. You refuse to lie quietly on the floor now, instead you raise your head and shoulders clear off the rug and also lift your little legs so you're in a V-shape. Then you throw yourself on your side for a minute, then roll back and and start it all again. Sometimes you like to roll over onto your tummy, just for kicks. You've mastered the rolling from tummy to back and you've just starting to go the other way a few times here and there.



I think you and your brother have hit a new level in your relationship this month. Now that you are more interactive, he gets so excited to give you toys and have you hold them or shake them. He wakes up in the morning and always asks, "Emmie? Awake?" and now when he sees you, he says, "Hi Ahhhh-mee!" You of course, adore him. Probably even more now that he's stopped smacking you every chance he gets. Your eyes never leave him when he's in the room and now you smile and coo at him, too.



Your smiles aren't just reserved for your brother though. You literally kick your legs and pump your little arms and actually laugh when you wake up and I come in to get you. But as awesome as your reaction is to me, it's nothing compared to the show you put on for Daddy. Your smiles are the biggest for him and you just adore him. You truly are a daddy's girl these days. Your smile is a whole-body affair, complete with a little shoulder raise that makes it almost look like you're trying to be coy. But you really do light up the room when you are in it.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention your current hairstyle. All the "celebabies" are going to be sporting it in US Weekly this fall. Your blonde fuzz is about three inches long and it sticks straight up from the entire top of your head. No matter how much I try to comb it down, it just pops right back up, so we go with it and it's your signature look now. I know in a few weeks it will probably be too long to stick up and I really will miss it when it's gone.



Your hair is like everything else at this age -- we think it's how it will be forever, and then in the blink of an eye, it changes. Today I was pushing you in a swing at the park and I realized in no time at all, you won't want me to push and you'll be telling me "Emmie do! Emmie do!" But for now, you're content to have me be the center of your world and I am happy to oblige you. You bring such joy to my days -- how can I possibly be upset about something when I see you laugh at your little pink baby, grab her and try to eat her face? Or when you try to shove your entire fist into your mouth and pretty much succeed in doing it? Or when you're sleeping on my lap during your afternoon nap with your little hand pressed against your face, sighing?



There are moments in my day where my love for you just spills over. Not in the overprotective stage-mother kind of way, but I just look down at you and kiss your cute little face and tell you I love you. I can't get enough of you and I am always so excited to see you after I have been gone. Your Daddy and I went to New York for the weekend a few weeks ago and when our plane landed, I could not have been more excited to see you and your brother because I knew your little smile would greet me and make me feel like the luckiest woman on earth. I hope someday you get to experience this kind of love with children of your own, because there is nothing like it in the world.

Love,
Mommy

That's me in the spotlight

The smile and the smirk

I haven't posted a picture of the kids in awhile, so there ya go. I got nothing else of note.

Wait yes I do! My husband surprised me with tickets to the REM concert on Friday night, and it was so much fun. We drank beer and had fun and then we went out to some bars. It was like we didn't even have kids! But then we came home and Emily was squawking for the boob and I remembered we definitely did have kids.

Emmie: Four Months

Dear Emmie,

Today you turn four months old and you celebrated by going on your first roadtrip. Considering you hate your carseat with a white-hot passion most people reserve for things like 90s hair bands, it was a grand time. But you managed to somehow survive the five-hour drive to Michigan with a few stops for breastmilk, a jaunt in a state park and a visit with our friends in Indiana.



It was the first time our friends had seen you and they were exclaiming how tiny you are. Which is so funny to me because you are gigantic compared to how you started out. You are wearing 3-6 month clothes now and I can't wait to see how much you weigh at your appointment next week. I am really looking forward to those four-month shots, let me tell you. I am sure you are too.

One great side effect of the shots will be some much-needed sleep. You see, dear sweet Miss Emily, you are in the midst of the fabled four-month sleep regression and it is roundly kicking my ass. Your sleep has deteriorated from the blissful nights of the first six weeks to the point where your longest stretch is from 8-10:30 p.m. Then you're up looking for something to eat and sleeping next to us in bed. Then you decide that's not an option either, so we stick you in the swing next to the bed, where we can get a good four or five-hour stretch out of you. Of course, that comes from 6-10 a.m. and your brother wakes up at 7, so you can see why Mommy needs to invest in a better eye cream.



But all that nightwaking makes for a good milk supply. You're still digging the breastfeeding, although we have battled some thrush this last month. In order to treat it, we had to use a nifty little neon purple antispetic called gentian violet. It stains everything purple -- including your wee little mouth and tongue -- but I am hoping this second round of treatment has crushed the thrush. Because there's nothing like the feeling of glass being sucked through your nipple to make you want to continue with breastfeeding for another eight months.



Your relationship with your brother has pretty much remained the same this month. You adore him and can't keep your eyes off him. He likes to hit you and play with your toys. Although he is starting to enjoy giving you toys to hold and insists that you put them in your hand, even though you're not so hot with the grasping and holding part yet. He also really likes making you smile and has now started serenading you with various melodies he composes with the word "Emmie" in different keys. I think it's his way of showing you how much he loves you.



This month has resulted in the discovery of your hands. You have mastered the act of bringing them to your mouth and we can hear you sucking them three rooms away. You're just starting to realize you can use them for other things as well, like grabbing your legs in the hopes of corralling those elusive feet. Oh how those feet tempt you -- you can see them wiggling around but you have no idea how to get them into your possession yet.

You had your first weekend away from Mommy this month, when I went away to San Francisco for your aunt Marnie's bachelorette party. I went to drink from wine bottles and you stayed home to drink breastmilk bottles with Daddy. You and Daddy and Jack had a great weekend together, doing fun stuff like going to the zoo and the park and he even took your to your first baseball game. Perhaps I should do that more often.



But I was so happy to come home and see your little chicken-fuzz hair and your big, big smiles. Coming to get you after you have woken up in the morning is one the best parts of my day. You look around when you hear the door open and the moment you see my face, I see the recognition in your eyes and you give me a huge smile and you start kicking your legs and arching your back because you are so excited for me to pick you up. And when I do pick you up and smother you with kisses, you bury your face in my neck and start grabbing my shirt like you can't get yourself close enough to me.



Someday Emmie, you are going to want to get as far away from me as possible. Not only will you not want me smothering you in kisses, but you won't want me within 50 feet of you. You'll be embarassed by me and how I dress and the way I breathe will even annoy you. I want to tell you now that I understand. I don't take it personally. And yes, I am going to wear that when I drop you off at the dance and no, I won't drop you off three blocks away. But I will love you then like I love you now. Fiercely, completely and without reservation.



Before you know it, you will be crawling and then walking and running. All of those things will take you away from me and out on your own, but please know that I will always be here for you. I will always be watching and waiting for you, so look back when you need reassuring. Even from three blocks away on your way to your first dance -- don't worry, your friends won't have to know. It'll be our little secret.

Love,
Mommy

Just kickin' it at Whole Foods

Jack likes to keep it real at Whole Foods. He says kicking his hat to the left is the way to show his allegiance to his toddler gang. You know, in case he comes across any rival factions in the organic produce section.

Emmie, non-plussed at Jack's gangster ways, decided to wear her sun hat in the correct fashion. She was so confident Jack would have her back if anything went down, she took a nap.

Mommy was serving as the lookout. Good thing I practiced my get-away stroller-driving techniques on the mean streets of South Central.

Alas, there was no turf war involving tofu or goji berries today. But we were ready.