I Miss Blogging

I miss blogging, so I'm going to give it another shot, now that life has settled into a pattern of near normalcy.

The Beast, so adorably featured in my last post so, so, so long ago, is now a Beastly 3 year old.  He's not large for his age, but still freakishly strong.  Wiggle Man is in 2nd grade, which seems terribly old to me, and much to close to an age where he will no longer tolerate being called Wiggle Man.  I suspect, at times, he's already there.

Since I last blogged, our family has experienced joys and pain, love and loss.  I've been to Africa and back again.  I started a Master's in Ethnomusicology, a field which will let me combine my love of music with my love for Kenya, travel, research, writing, and languages.  I'm kicking myself for not realizing it sooner, but God's timing has always been best thus far in my life.

And now, since my last post featured some Beast-isms, I hereby present: a conversation with Wiggle Man.  The following was likely intended to drive me insane before 8 am.

Me:  Honey, don't forget to turn in your lunch money.

Wiggle Man: Mom, did you pack a snack for morning recess?

Me:  Nope, we're just about out of snacks.  (Really need to get to the grocery store today.)

WM: Can I have a Little Debbie?

Me:  Um, NO.  That's not really a fabulous morning snack.  Grab a Go-gurt.

WM:  We're out of Go-gurts.  (Of course we are.)  I want a Little Debbie.

Me: Well, how about some fruit snacks?  (At this point, Wiggle Man is walking down the driveway, apparently deaf to my voice, as he makes no indication he has heard this question, even after several repetitions.  I follow him out to the car, still wearing my jammies, like the crazy Mom I am.)

WM:  I know what snack I want!  (Starts to head back inside.)  How about a Little Debbie Bat Brownie?

At this point, it was all I could do to kiss his head and tell him to get in the car.

Kisses,

I Know, I Know...

I'm posting.  I know.  Whoa.  It's been so long, probably no one will see it, because who checks here anymore?  But, I wanted to keep record of some of the cute things the baby says.  He hasn't developed a nickname yet quite like Wiggle Man did, so here I shall call him The Beast.  I toyed with Bam Bam while I was pregnant with him, because I sensed his super strength, and let me tell you--he's a beast.

Anywhoo....I present you with some Beast-isms.

"Weawwy?"  Really?  Apparently, I say this a lot.

"AwwwRIGHT!"  Again, didn't realise how often I said that until The Beast started copying me.

"Sheeewww?"  Shoe is always a question.  Unlike most babies, The Beast hasn't learned many body/face parts yet, (except eyes, and "Um!" for mouth), but he's all about pants, socks, shoes and shirts.  The problem with "shirt" is that he leaves out the 'r.'

"Ewww."  The other body part The Beast knows.  As near as I can figure, he calls it "ewww" because I'm usually saying "ewwww" to all the food he puts in his hair.

"Off.  Off.  Off.  Off."  The Beast likes to turn things off.  Especially if he gets to press a...

"Bunn!"  Button.  Beast loves him some buttons.

Combine a cup (another favourite) with a lid that has those little buttons to push down (like from fast food places) and The Beast is in heaven.

But, c'mon.  How can you resist that cheesy grin?

I can't.

Kisses,

My Pinteresting Addiction

I love Pinterest.

I love seeing what other people are making, and getting ideas.

I love it even more when Pinterest shows me something so shockingly simple, but darling.


Like......

Seriously; how cute ARE these?  Teeny tiny cupcake toppers.  Made of Reese's minis, then decorated to match the cupcakes.

Then you just plop these little gems on top of your frosted cupcakes, and, voila!  (Or, "wahla" as Wiggle Man says, no matter how many times I explain the French to him.)

These are Wiggle Man's birthday cupcakes for school.  Yes, he is sampling one before his birthday.  Shhh....don't tell.

I let him eat the one that didn't get frosted properly.  :)

I'm Wiggle Man, and I approve this cupcake.

Kisses,

Ahh....Fall

I love fall.  Fall has been good to The Rev and His Missus.  Our family acquired this:

We tried it out locally this weekend for the first time.  There were some ups and downs.  Campfires are definitely ups.  Taking the baby home in the middle of the night because he woke up and screamed for an hour was definitely a down. 

Here the boys are exploring  Chicken Nugget's "crib."  We had to get a little creative, but it worked.  Well, it worked in that he fell asleep ok, but kept waking up at around 3 am in a rage that would not be calmed.  Hence me driving him home.  

Interestingly enough, our sleepy town is not as sleepy as you'd imagine at 4 am.

Anyway, it was a lot of work, we learned some things to do differently, and now we are "campers."  Woot.


We also celebrated The Rev's birthday, and I officially have a new favourite cake.  This is a pumpkin spice cake with a....wait for it.....wait for it.....salted caramel cream cheese frosting.  I know.  My blood sugar spiked just typing that.

 In other news, Wiggle Man started Kindergarten this year.  I can't believe he's big enough for "big boy" school.  Also, note the little brother photo bombing big bro's photo shoot.  Classic.

Finally, both my boys have birthdays coming up.  We're throwing one big party this weekend, so I made myself a schedule.  I won't tell you exactly how I'll be using these fondant colours on their birthday cakes, but there they are.

Kisses,

Ten

Ten.  Chicken Nugget is now ten months old.  Among other things, I'm starting to feel the need to plan a birthday party.  A birthday party that will be for TWO boys, this year.  (Wiggle Man and Nugget's birthdays are nine days apart, so I'm totally planning the double birthday party for as many years as the boys will let me get away with it.)

But, before I get ahead of myself, here's a message to my little man:

Chicken Nugget,

You are ten months old.

You've brought joy, sleeplessness, love, amazement, poop, frustration, and more love to our family.

You eat blueberries as fast as your tiny hands can shove them into your mouth.

You eat Cheerios as fast as your tiny hands can shove them into your mouth.

You eat bananas as fast as your tiny hands can shove them into your mouth.

If it's food (or even if it's not) you eat it as fast as your tiny hands can shove it into your mouth.  Once, I caught you trying to eat a stinkbug.

You love your big brother so much it squeezes my heart.

You're a Daddy's boy, and I love that, too.  (Cuz sometimes I get to pee alone that way.)

You totally have the old man look going with your hair.

You cock one eyebrow at me sometimes as if you know something I don't.

You dance like me.  Not very suave, but a lot of head bobbing.

You are super strong for a baby.  Perhaps we should be calling you Clark Kent.

You blow raspberries, and it makes you laugh as much as it does us.

You do not like me cheering loudly at the television.  Or being told, "No."  But I can tell when you're fake crying.

I love you more than I could have imagined.

Kisses,

Immunity

Today I changed a diaper that if life were fair would automatically grant me immunity from ever changing a diaper again.  I think I used half a tub of wipes.  Chicken Nugget managed to stick his foot in it, and insisted on arching his back the entire diaper change.

I don't think the Rev will sign on for that, though.

Kisses,

Growing Boys

Look at this guy.  He's all done pre-school.  (Sniff, sniff).  He'll start KINDERGARTEN, people.  Kindergarten.  I can't get my brain around that.  I expect I'll come to terms with his being in kindergarten around the time he graduates high school.

That picture, as you can clearly read in the background (I'd be an awful spy, or member of the witness relocation program) was taken at Dutch Wonderland, which we hit up while on a visit to New Jersey.  Wiggles got to decorate his own cookie.  (And he only licked one of the communal icing spreaders.)

Then there's this big man:

Yes, he's pulling himself up!  He crawls, ladies and gentlemen, but apparently that's not enough for him.  No, in order to keep up with Big Brother, he must walk, or preferably, run.

Oh, and did I mention he's talking?  Granted, most of it's babbling, but we've got one word that has a definite meaning:  "Bwa."  Sometimes, "Bwa-bwa."  It's brother, my friends.  Chicken nugget will ask for Big Brother by name.  This morning, he looked at Wiggles, said, "Bwa,", and then proceeded to make raspberries (one of his favourite things to have Wiggle Man do).

We've had a crazy couple of weeks around here, with trips and sick babies and sick kids, but maybe, just maybe, we can settle into normal for a while.  I've gone back to running, which I missed, but running brings with it the scheduling I have not missed.  Trying to find time for the Rev to be home when it's not dark out, or the heat of the day is hard.  I think I'm going to get some reflectors, or some blinkie lights so I'll be able to run in the dark.  The more I think about it, the  more I like that.  It's cooler out, and no one has to get a good visual of me huffing and puffing out there.

So, that's life around here lately.

Kisses,