I Heart Faces-Best of January 2011

I have taken almost no pictures this month.  Between being in Florida and our move, I haven't really picked up the camera, nor have I been motivated to do so.  I tended to take my camera here and there, but not use it.  Like, I would haul it over to Wendy's thinking I would take pictures of the kids playing, but it didn't happen.  Wendy and I would get to talking, the kids would be doing their thing outside, then they would start fussing...

Anyway, I did take a few pictures of a putt-putt outing.  We had never taken the cousins to play putt-putt before.  I think they had all played the game, but not with one another.  It was fun.  I didn't get many great pictures, but one of the better ones is of Eliana.

I'm sure the photo is not prize-worthy, but she has a pretty great face.  I like to take pictures of it.  And I need to take more pictures of it, and the other faces around here, next month! 

I'm entering this photo just for fun.  This week is a "People's Favorite" week, so folks can vote for their favorite pictures/portraits starting tomorrow.  It's always fun to see the faces that other people photograph...they're always lovely.  See for yourself at I Heart Faces!

Mini-Me

People are always commenting on how much Eliana looks like me.  And honestly, I see it more every day...

Do you see it?  The mustache?  It's uncanny how much she resembles her mama.

Happy Birthday, Christian!

Like a good mother, I am writing Christian's birthday post a day late.  (Two days, if you are counting actual 24-hour days)

It really does sound strange that he is eight years old.  Last year I thought that seven sounded so much older than six, but eight just sounds impossible.  It cannot have been eight years ago that I woke up with that feeling...that indescribable yet unmistakable feeling.  I knew.  I took Michaela to her music class and told the other moms there,"I'm in labor."  They looked at me like I was crazy.  But I knew.  I went home and Michaela and I did our normal at-home thing, whatever that was.  I told Mike I was in labor.  He got busy putting the crib together.  I was talking to my mom on the phone and walking through our apartment while I had contractions.  She said,"How far apart are they?"  I timed the following one and said,"Oh!  They're like five minutes apart!"  She cried out,"Get off the phone and go tell Mike!" 

By the time we had someone watching Michaela temporarily, and someone else on the way for the duration, I really knew.  We got in the car and Mike headed for the hospital.  I walked and walked in my room, until they made me get all hooked up so they could monitor things.  I felt good.  I was very alert.  It was completely different from my labor with Michaela.  Pretty soon my midwife said my body was ready and I could push.  I pushed when they told me to, for about twenty minutes, and out popped the prettiest baby I had ever seen.  A short trip down the birth canal will do wonders not only for your complexion but for the shape of your head!

He was so sweet.

Now he's eight.

Not that there is a juxtaposition there.  Ha!  He is still sweet (some of the time).  He is a passionate and complex person.  And he was much easier to photograph when he was a newborn.

I took cupcakes to his class to celebrate, and they sang to him.  I think he likes the limelight.

After school I took him along with his sisters to get ice cream.  I wanted to get a good birthday shot.

I'm pretty certain I didn't exactly accomplish my goal as far as the picture taking goes, but he enjoyed the ice cream.  He went on to earn his next belt in karate that evening, but unfortunately by the time Mike returned with him from the test my brain was all out of working power and I didn't take a picture.  He was excited about it, though.  It was a cool ending to a special day.

Eight years.  What a ride!  Just think, in eight more years he'll be driving.

Help.

Time Keeps on Slippin', Slippin', Slippin'...

There is so much I want to write about!

Christian's birthday is today.  He is eight!  What?!  Yes...eight!  That sounds weird.

There are pictures of the old house.

The gas...it's killing us!  We are going to have to get some things about our schedule really straightened out!  I think I've filled our tank up three times in the last two weeks, and it's already down to around 1/4 tank.  Oh dear.

Why am I so silly and miss a house that I said I hated when I lived there?!  What is wrong with me?!

We have a LOT of small rugs.  They were all bought to go in other houses...it is hard to make things that you bought for other spaces to fit into new spaces.  I can say the same thing about shower caddies.  Who knew that shower caddies were so...fickle?

I have to make Christian a birthday cake before he gets home (not gonna happen, but I'll try) even though he already had cupcakes with his class and then ice cream after school.  Mike said,"It's just one day of the year.  It doesn't matter if he already had a cupcake and ice cream."  I like the way he thinks.  (I'm more likely to say something like,"It's just every other day...")

And now...off to make a cake.  I'm not complaining about that!  I'll be back with real posts soon.

I think.

Edited to add:  Ha!  I got the cake in the oven before Mike got home with Christian...does that count?

I Like to Leave the Planning to Someone Else

So, we have been back in Dallas for two weeks, and in our new home for that long.  Before I left Florida I spent a couple of nights (with the two kids who were not in New York) at Wendy's house.  (That's my sister-in-law.)  I had spent a lot of time there over the previous three weeks, with the kids playing.  We had talked a lot about cleaning up the post-Christmas mess, and we actually did a little bit of that (I broke down a ton of boxes...it was good practice for the ocean of boxes that was going to be headed my way) and I helped clean up packaging and stocking stuffers that had been strewn all about as though a tropical storm had surged through the lower level of her house.  During those final days, though, she made a proposal.  A challenge, of sorts.  She had a plan.

Her proposition?  That we pretend like we're grown-ups for one month.  (A whole month, not just the rest of January.)

We never spent a solid amount of time hammering out the details.  What exactly would that look like?  Getting up when our kids got up (or, goodness gracious, before?!)...being prepared for and actually cooking meals (I don't think either one of us cooked a single meal the entire time we were in Florida; Mike's mom cooked.  She actually likes it.)...going to bed at a decent hour?  All of these things were probably floating around in both of our heads, but we were also busy drinking sweet tea and cleaning up her daughter's bedroom.  The decisions we had to make regarding so much doll and horse paraphernalia, so many ribbons and bags, you will never know. 

When we parted ways at the airport it was with an unspoken understanding that we would, indeed, give this grown-up thing a shot.  Since I've been home we've talked a few times and

FAIL. 

Hopefully she will not think that is a totally unjust assessment.  It is mostly of my end of the deal.  We have shared some laughs regarding our efforts, or lack thereof.  Or at least regarding the unsuccessfulness of our efforts.  The pinnacle of achievement here was the day we all slept through alarms, Christian woke me up at 8:37 (his school starts at 8:30), and by the time Mike got him, along with Michaela, out the door and to school (Michaela was going to do some work in Mike's office), Christian's school day was over.  It was an early-release Wednesday. 

So, I took the kids bowling.  We went looking for a strike that was not only acceptable but desirable, unlike the giant one that we had managed to acquire that morning.

Speaking of strikes...can I go on one from this grown-up gig?  Oh, I have to actually be a grown-up before I can go on strike?  Ah.  I guess that does make sense.

I've never been one for logic and rational thinking, though.

Today I feel like I took a small step towards being a grown-up.  I got up and got Christian to school.  (Mike actually woke Christian up.  He is much better at that than I am.  With me, it's all Armageddon-like, so I'll leave that job to the dad.) (I was not in a good mood anyway, since I had to put my contacts in as soon as my feet hit the floor.  Both pairs of glasses that I have are broken.) (Ridiculous, I know.)  Getting out the door and driving did not make me feel GREAT!, but I have to admit that by the time I was headed back home (I also had to get gas), it was closing in on 9am and it's just hard to feel sorry for someone that they are up by that hour.  Even when it's myself.  (Sort of.)

I can't say that the rest of the day went perfectly splendidly wonderfully, and was amazingly fulfilling.  (That would be something, wouldn't it?!) 

But it was a start.  Alas, the secret is out...the key to getting me going in the morning is for me to take Christian to school.  Don't tell!  I'll never get out of doing it now.