Tag: Pictures

Categories
Kids/Parenting

New Shoes!

I’m totally in love with Haydie’s new shoes. I paid more for them than I would normally pay for my own shoes. (They’re not extravagant or anything; I’m too cheap to buy myself shoes.)

We tried on another pair of shoes that were just thick, solid rubber soles. They seemed uncomfortable and harder to walk in than these. Plus, these are way cuter and easier to get on/off.



In other news, Ryan is simply amazed that Hayden wears some of his old baby clothes, like this shirt:


(I think that’s his “Silly Mommy!” look.)

Categories
Kids/Parenting

We’re in a good place

The way I feel about parenting seems to ebb and flow. Some days I can barely go on; some days I can hardly wait for more kids.

We’re in the latter period. Call it our ‘rose’ period. We’re all happy and lovey—like a clan of newlyweds. Plus, with today’s spring-like weather, you can’t help but feel happy.

This is why you should have more kids.

And I guess these don’t hurt either:

I can’t believe it:

Cleaning is fun!
Categories
Kids/Parenting

This is the night, it’s a beautiful night…

Hayden is really falling in love with eating—and eating constantly. (We’re getting out of the seventh percentile!) On the plus side, he is really good about sharing. (Minus side: I don’t want any goldfish crackers, kiddo.)

A few weeks ago, we had a “lady & the tramp” moment. He stuck a little piece of graham cracker in my mouth. I held onto it with my lips and sat there for a moment (probably watching TV). Next thing I know, Hayden has leaned in to get the graham cracker out of my mouth—with his lips.

We didn’t teach him to do this, but he does. We also use things like pens, his medicine bottles and the lid to his snickysnack container (our lips don’t meet on those).


He loves him some food!

Categories
Kids/Parenting Random

The Mothers-of-Boys Manifesto

It’s time I said something. I have to stand up for all the mothers of little boys out there.

We want adorably outfitted children, too! Yes, there are cute clothes for baby boys, but compared to the selection and cute-itude of baby girl clothes, them’s slim pickins. How many department stores have you been to where the infant/toddlers section has maybe three racks of boys’ clothes and 400 square feet of girls’ clothes?

Easter is the worst. Not only are we innundated with frilly pastel dresses, but even the boys’ selection seems to be all pink and purple—perfectly camouflaged with the girls’ clothes. (I think Hayden could pull it off, but I don’t think Ryan really wants him to!)

And then there’s the hair. Don’t even get me started on the hair.

So today, after Hayden fed himself breakfast:




I fixed his hair:


THERE, mothers of girls with adorable curls, precious pigtails, and beatiful bows and braids. Boys can have their mommies do their hair, too. And it can be perfectly manly.

The best part? His hair stayed like that the rest of the day. I’m telling you: applesauce+yogurt is the next big thing in hair products.

Categories
Kids/Parenting

I’m a big boy!

Hayden was very whiny while Ryan and I ate dinner. We were even nice enough to feed him some of our dinner from our forks. But it soon became clear that the food wasn’t really what he was after. He continued to scream. We were both getting pretty frustrated.

Finally I realized he wanted to hold our forks. No way—I don’t want him to poke himself. Or us, come to think of it.

So I grabbed one of his spoons for him. Ryan realized that he just wanted to be like Mommy & Daddy:


We probably should have figured this out sooner. Tuesday he did the same thing—clamor for our flatware and then eat out of the bowl. I have a video of him feeding Daddy and himself pretend stew.

Just goes to show you: change your frame of reference. Here I was, getting frustrated with a whiny kid and all he wanted to do was emulate me. When will I ever learn?

Sleep update: Last night, Ryan and I went to bed at 9, since Haydie usually sleeps for a while at first. Of course, as we walked by his room, the door creaked and he stirred. He moaned for a little while, but finally fell asleep on his own. And slept until 4 AM—at which point, he screamed very loudly. He soon fell silent, though.

Ryan still went in to him since he has a horrific diaper rash and we didn’t want him sitting in a wet diaper. Ryan found Hayden sucking his fingers, which he continued to do contentedly throughout a quick diaper change. I could hear him talking to Ryan a little—almost as if he were giving him instructions. After that he went right to bed and slept until 8 AM. It was wonderful.

Categories
Kids/Parenting Ryan/Married Life Fulfillment

Where I belong

Yesterday I took my sister Brooke and a couple of her friends to look for apartments for next fall. We looked at three places, including the complex where I lived my first year off campus. It was my idea to go there—I was arguing that it’s really nice to have enclosed hallways, instead of your apartment opening up right into the cold. (Also, with the strict curfew rules the university imposes on approved housing, it’s a warm place to hang out with friends after curfew.)

It was kind of weird to be back there. It even smelled the same. Brought back a lot of memories. We sat in the office and ate the freshly (under)baked cookies they had for us, and I imagined how much fun my sister and her friends will have, no matter where they live. I reminisced about how much fun I’d had, and my mind came back to something I think about probably all too often—what my single friends are doing now.

They’re following their dreams in law school, grad school or careers. They’re doing things for themselves. They’re dancing, partying, having fun. I’m getting up at 7 AM, changing diapers and watching television all day long, and going to bed early. I’m not even twenty-four. While I love Ryan and Hayden and I know this is where I belong, I can’t help but feel jealous of my friends who can still live for themselves.

Yesterday as I was back in my single stomping grounds, I reminisced about how I spent my singlehood—in those conveniently enclosed hallways. There was one boy in particular. I wanted so badly for him to care about me—not in a romantic way, though. I wanted him to be my best (guy) friend, my greatest confidant. And while he wanted to be my friend, he never could give me the depth of friendship that I needed. After I moved out of those apartments (and into Ryan’s neighborhood), he and I spoke only twice.

Last night, after stoking the fires of nostalgia all afternoon, I came home to Ryan waiting for me on the couch. He invited me to curl up with him. As I settled into his arms, I realized that Ryan was the friend that I’d yearned for years earlier, my greatest confidant. And while my friends do get to pursue their dreams now, I know I’m where I belong.