Family Davis-Ross

share and share alike

Reading Lucy her book while she does tummy time

Today, after dropping Kevin at the airport, we went for some errands.

One of the errands involved going to get lunch at our favorite bagel store. We'd not visited in a while, and as soon as we stepped in the doors, Peter cried "Bagels!" a la Stanley Kowalsky and then ran to the glass case of bagels and pounded on it, a la Ben Braddock. For his enthusiasm, he was rewarded with a free bagel.

We also stopped in the video store to pick up some movies to tide me over while Kevin's gone. As we were checking out, Peter became transfixed by the row of candy, handing me bag and box of candy, hoping that I'd say "yes" to one of them.

(I might have, if he hadn't been picking out the most random candy, like a box of Good & Plenty, or a bag of Peanut M & Ms.)

Finally, he decided to take matters into his own hands, grabbed two bags of some kind of complicated lollipop/Fun Dip combination, put one in Lucy's lap, and put the other on the counter. He looked at me expectantly, then gave the cashier a very dubious look when he told Peter that the candy was "yucky," and "gross," a strategy that the cashier assured me worked with his own small children. Peter didn't buy it for a minute, but I was able to distract him with a passing motorcycle after which I sent him running.

My favorite part of the incident is that Peter gave Lucy a bag of candy. Because, really, he's a great sharer with Lucy. If I tell him something belongs to Lucy, he almost always runs to give it to her immediately. We've been emphasizing turn-taking, and he tries to give Lucy a turn with whatever it is he's playing. ("Oh, thanks Peter, Lucy would LOVE to let this ant crawl all over her!")  I have to watch him carefully if he has food, because he will try to shove bits and pieces in her mouth.

I'm trying to make a big deal about sharing with Peter, because his best friend's favorite word is "mine!" When they play together, Lea starts a chorus of "mine! mine!" whenever they settle down to a shared activity, such as coloring. Of course, Peter mimics her, not really understanding how impolite it is to grab things from others and say "mine!"*

It reminds me of this line from What to Expect The Toddler Years: To most toddlers, the only person who matters is "me." The only part of give-and-take they can relate to is "take." They only agenda that counts - theirs. On top of all of that, toddlers are still shaky on matters of right and wrong, almost totally devoid of social graces, and basically unable to control an impulse.

One of my approaches to this problem is to ban the word "mine" in the house. Is that crazy? I try to model good sharing behavior with Peter by trying to eat and drink and use things that I'd let him eat and drink and use if he asks. (The obvious exception to that is coffee, which Peter knows by name and knows is for Mommy only. He will point to the cup, say "coffee" and then start waving his finger back and forth, saying "no, no, no, no."

*And, I know this is a small point, and it's perfectly fine developmentally for kids to do this kind of stuff, but it does get under my skin that Lea rips all of these toys away from Peter while he's playing with them, simply because he's playing with them. These two happen to be about 15 months apart, too, so I guess it's good training for when Peter and Lucy enter co-toddlerhood.

the neighbor problem

proud of his bounty, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

We love our neighbors. We are really happy and lucky to have playmates for Peter so close to where we live. It makes spontaneous playdates so easy, and it also makes it really easy to send kids home when things have gotten too crazy.

Peter's showing increasing willingness to go to our neighbors' houses and play. He'll leave for 15 minutes at a time before checking in with me. I am flattered that he seems to prefer to play with me more than anyone else (probably because I spend a ridiculous amount of attention on him), but I certainly don't mind the 15 minute breaks, either.

Anyway. The purpose of the post:

Peter went to Jeyser and Lea's grandmother's house to play. (This is Mama Soila, for those keeping track of such things.)

A few minutes later, he burst through my open front door,* giant tears running down his face, loud and sincere sobs joining the tears, an empty Popsicle stick in his hand, and unidentified red goo coming from his mouth.

My first thought was "oh my GOD he fell and the Popsicle stick went through the roof of his mouth and into his brain and he's going to DIE."

A closer look at the red goo revealed is was more of a cherry Popsicle goo than a blood-and-brain-matter goo.

Clever investigation by yours truly (and some helpful tips from Mama Soila) led me to discover that all of this emotion came from a Popsicle melting too quickly and falling from the stick.

The solution? Another Popsicle.

And to the heart of why I am reluctant to send Peter out into the world: the world seems so bent on filling him up with sugar and cracky. And he's so willing to take it.

I could discern at least two colors of Popsicle residue on his chin, leading me to believe he'd had no fewer than three Popsicles that afternoon. No wonder he didn't eat his dinner.

*Since he can't open the door yet, I always leave it a little open. It makes me feel like I might have been raised in a barn.

Arata Pumpkin Patch

I woke up Tuesday morning with a brainfull of crazy and thought: "hey, let's go to a pumpkin patch!" We'd been sunned out of going to a patch over the weekend, but the weather promised to be more mild this week. I was set to return to the patch we'd visited earlier when I had the good sense to check its hours and realized it didn't open until 2 p.m.

On to Plan B.

We went to Half Moon Bay, which actually is a huge pumpkin-growing center. It's also (unsurprisingly, given its name) on the ocean, which always makes the weather more baby-friendly (read: less sun, more fog).

Fog is my SPF

Specifically, we visited Arata Farms. We arrived with the throngs of visiting grammar school children, which might have been all of the entertainment Peter needed. This is good, as each "event" at this patch required that you pay some small admissions fee. I decided to pony up for the hay ride, since Peter was obsessed with the tractor, the electric train, and the "Toddler World" playground.

Notice anything in this picture, Dad?

This was the first major outing Peter and Lucy and I have taken, and I had to think ahead to make sure I had all of my bases covered. I brought our umbrella stroller mostly to carry the diaper bag (since backpack + front carrier = chiropractor visits), but also to serve as a restraining device for Peter in case I needed to attend to Lucy and he decided to run amok. Luckily, I didn't need to use it.

I love that when Peter first arrives somewhere new, he spends the first fifteen or so minutes staring in dumbfounded amazement at his surroundings. It's the easiest time to take his picture, since he's not running around, so if you ever wonder why there are so many pictures of a gape-mouthed Peter staring confusedly at his world, that's why. After he settles in, however, he moves to his "running for mayor" shtick, waving hello to everyone he sees and generally running around as if he owns the place.

 

Our little "duh" boy

Lucy enjoyed our trip as well. We found activities in which Peter was contained and occupied so that Lucy could have quality time out of the carrier. Of course, everyone called her a "he," despite the abundance of pink and purple flowers on her aqua jacket. Please, world, would a little boy wear this jacket? I know it's blue, but come on!

Hay, it's a baby!

I hit up a drive-through coffee bar on our way home, which might be the best idea, ever. I have a serious appreciation for all things drive-through now, especially if it's something as quick as popping in for a coffee or getting cash from the ATM.

"hello???"

"yod-a-lee-hee-hoo!", originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Hi guys.

Still alive.

Kevin's been supercrazybusy preparing for his talk in Texas, for which he's now on an airplane. (Which means I've given control of the computer over to him these past few days.)

I think, for Peter's sake, Kevin will be on an airplane all weekend. That's much easier to understand than "in Texas."

Once the kids are asleep, I'll post more.

PS: We love you, Kevin. You're absolutely awesome, and we'll miss you so, so, so much.

monday, monday

No photos from today - a busy Monday full of nonphotoworthy fun. But, we did

- have a successful, leisurely grocery trip. While I like to shop with Kevin because of the security of having an extra set of adult hands on deck in case of dual freak-outs, it is really nice to shop with the 10 other customers on Monday mornings. (For this, Jenna, you may feel jealous. I allow it.)

- squeeze in a quick trip to the park, which included much water-and-sand play. This met with some serious disapproval from some of the more...uppity...mothers in the park, and with conspiratorial smiles from the half-naked toddlers and their more carefree mothers and apathetic nannies. There's a rich anthropology to the parklife here that I could explore another time.

- walk home with a neighbor, whom I've seen possibly once, but whom Peter instantly knew. I am not joking when I say that Peter knows more people in this complex than Kevin and I put together.

- a successful triple nap! I generally avoid napping when the kids do. There's always so much to do during the short time they're both asleep, but, honestly, I hate waking up before the natural conclusion of my nap. There's nothing crappier than waking too early from a nap to a fussy toddler. Today, though, it worked out.

- a quick meeting at the school, where Peter walks around like the most popular kid at school. I suspect Peter thinks he owns the place. (Lucy, for her part, finds the office a calming place, and between the two of them I'm able to get much work done.)

- Mexican dinner - beans and rice and guacamole for Peter, tacos for me. Peter really loves beans and guacamole (and likes rice, but prefers tortilla chips, and who doesn't really?). Today, he managed to smear them all over himself, the table, the booth seat, and the floor. Successful dinner? Yes.

- crazyhappy bedtime, in which Kevin came home just as Peter was getting out of the bath. Peter was beside himself to see Kevin, and Lucy managed to giggle the entire time and poop twice. The good with the bad, I guess.

It's really a typical day. A bit busier than most, but, really, this is the nice routine our lives have settled into. It's the most routinized my life ever has been, and I'm enjoying that, too.

through other's eyes

decent family photo, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

I'm not one who has a good mental image of herself.

I sometimes catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and think, "who IS that stranger in my house? Oh...."

So I'm always interested when I see pictures of myself and my family taken by others. Like the one above: check us out! A pretty decent looking photo!

But then again, we quickly become this family:

Lucy's pout is the most adorable thing, ever.

Kevin looks pretty normal; I look stressed out. Peter's all "who's this dork?" to Chris, standing behind us. And I should note that Chris is at least 10 inches taller than Kevin, and is sure to grow another 10 more.

pumpkin patching

Just a few of the pumpkins Peter picked

So, it was like 90 degrees today.

I know! Seriously! Squelch those images of fall being a time of hot apple cider and crisp mornings. Try ice-cold lemonade and liberally-applied sunscreen.

Rather than drive 45 minutes to swelter in the sun, we decided to drive 5 minutes. Thus, we ended up at the "pumpkin patch" in the Sears parking lot.

Kevin: So, do you know where we're going?
Amy: Yeah, it's just in the Sears parking lot.
Kevin: Really? Isn't there a place with grass we can go?
Amy: They're supposed to have a hay maze. And animals. And a bounce house. And hayrides.
Kevin: O-K.

True enough, the pumpkin patch had all of the above. Plus a haunted house! True, also: all of the above were the saddest versions of said attractions you could imagine. The "hay maze" was a pathway constructed between two hay bales. The "hayride" consisted of a tractor pulling kids around the parking lot, no real hay in sight. The "animals" were a sad pair of ducks, some very manhandled baby chickens, a couple of heat-exhausted rabbits, and a mother goat and her kid.

But, we got some pumpkins - the main goal. Peter also enjoyed looking at the animals.

"Chick-en!" (Peter says it with a Russian accent. You try it.)

Peter wasn't such a big fan of the bounce house. He lasted for about 3 minutes, 2 of which were spent getting in and out. He got a few good jumps in, said "all done," and exited. He didn't even try to fall down. Yet, he'll go out of his way to trip all over his own feet and fall splat on cement. Go figure.


Consulting with Kevin

I think the trick to outings of any kind is to understand just what your kids like and don't like. Or, to put it more clearly: what is the easiest and cheapest way to entertain your child?

We certainly could have driven to a farm. The surroundings would have been much more bucolic, the animals a bit healthier, the pumpkins more plentiful. But the fact is, Peter's favorite part of the pumpkin patch was sitting on a tractor and pushing around a wheelbarrow, not exactly "needing nature" attractions.

My job was to make sure #2 didn't die of heat stroke. Mission success!

Hey hot stuff!

We made a quick stop at Target to eat and to pick up some supplies. I think I filled up the cart in 5 minutes with two boxes of diapers, a giant box of laundry detergent, and a 6-pack of wipes. As I said to Kevin, "we might be a two-cart family now."

Then, ice cream. I think it's safe to say this was all of our favorite parts of the day.

Yummy!

matchy-matchy

sassy face 2, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

We aren't matchy-matchy people, Kevin and I.

I think I was on a bad caffeine trip when I purchased these two matching outfits for Peter and Lucy. Seriously, what was I thinking? (That's what Peter's saying, too - just look at his defiant little face.)

Anyway, here it is, for posterity: the first (and only?) time I dressed the kids up in the same outfit.

P.S. They didn't even wear these outfits outside together because the silly fall weather is late in coming. So, there.

"uh, mom? maybe not your best idea"

"uh, mom? maybe not your best idea", originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Actually, she quite liked it.

most annoying toy ever

most annoying toy ever
Originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin

A Cars car, belonging to our neighbor but living just outside our doorway.

Leading to a conversation in which Peter didn't understand the difference between Cars and cars. Minutes after, Peter has no clue who Dora the Explorer is.

For this, now, I'm thankful.

He watches about 15 minutes of TV a day. Specifically, he watches one "episode" of Elmo's World that we've DVR'ed. I put it on after he wakes up from his nap in order to give him a little time to wake up gradually.

He's particularly fond of the "weather" episode. There's a lot to keep him happy: Mr. Noodle dances in the rain, Elmo wears a silly hat, the little boy Elmo talks with has a dog, and Elmo goes windsurfing.

He certainly would watch more TV if we'd let him. Luckily, he doesn't ask to watch it very often. Some days, it would be so easy to say, "sure, kick back with some Nick Jr - I'll start on that pile of thank you notes that I have yet to tackle."

close by

close by, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

It makes me so happy that, even on my worst days, my children prefer my company to that of anyone else.

falling

fall tree, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

I generally love our weather, even if I did make Summer of 2008 an entry on my Enemies List. It's usually sunny, warm enough to wear flip-flops, and not at all humid. How can I complain?

Well, I'll find a way...

Seasons. I miss them. I miss the coolness of fall, the coldness of winter, the colorful bloom of spring, and the dog days of summer. (Lie: I hate the dog days of summer.)

I was surprised to see the tree outside our window explode in color. I'd gotten used to seeing everything in green all year long. (Evidence: see the green tree in the lower right-hand corner.)

It's fall. We're going to another corn maze/pumpkin patch this weekend. I might make some apple-based desserts. We've all been eating and craving pears like they're going out of season. I have yet to purchase Halloween candy, but that's more because of my diet than anything else. We might even carve a pumpkin. Stay tuned!

snuggle bear

with pacifier and snuggle, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

For the most part Peter's good about sharing things with Lucy. He's gotten over stealing her pacifier, for example, and has transitioned to "helping" me by jamming one in her mouth.

I mean, Lucy has a pacifier at most 30 minutes a day, and I think 20 of them are as a result of her brother's task persistence.

Snuggle Bear is another Lucy-only item that Peter has agreed to. Snuggle is Lucy's equivalent to Peter's Cuddle Bear. They're both attachment blankets with a silly bear's head attached, but it's fair to say that Peter loves Cuddle Bear like he's a member of the family.*

I've started to give Snuggle to Lucy while she's eating and other times in the day, in the hopes of fostering a love of the little green guy. Who knows if it will work? She certainly likes how soft Snuggle is.

knife edge

the endless battle begins, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Several years ago Kevin and I went hiking and camping in New England. One of the best hikes from that trip - or ever, really - was Franconia Ridge.

It was a hike we almost didn't do, because our guidebook described it as being fraught with danger. It emphasized the "knife-edge" trail along the mountain ridge, and suggested that one false step or a lightning storm would kill you.*

For me, that's what being a parent is like. (That and LAUNDRY. Oh, man, if I never fold another load of laundry again...)

My standard answer to the question "how is it having two so close together?" is this: it's not hard, but it requires a lot of preparation. And you always have to be on your A game.

One false step or a lighting storm could kill you.

It's actually really easy to keep both entertained and happy, as long as I'm thinking three or four steps ahead, always bringing extra diapers, and not forgetting the snacks. Luckily, Peter and Lucy are content to do similar activities - walks and hanging out at the park and reading books at home are big hits with both kids.

But lately, I've been on my B game. I think Peter and Lucy have, too. The result is a lot less...cheerfulness...up in these parts. We've all been fighting a mystery cold/allergy thing, Peter's probably getting in four new teeth, Lucy's staying awake for longer and longer periods, and, as you can tell from the timestamp on this post, I've been getting way too little sleep.

Meanwhile Kevin's preoccupied with a heavy workload, plus an upcoming conference, plus a job hunt. I don't mean to leave him out. He's working a ton, and we prefer to not think about it and what it means.**

Today was a particularly rough day, which found me shooing Peter off the desk several times, only to put him in his crib while we both cooled off from the frustration of thwarted intentions. (Mine: keeping his 10 fingers intact. His: sticking his fingers in the electric pencil sharpener.)

I can't emphasize how traumatic this experience was for either of us. Peter only goes in his crib to sleep. Naturally, he flipped out, I was flooded with guilt, and we quickly made up (much cuddling and silly singing) and ran out the door to get coffee and see some turtles.

In retrospect, this situation could easily have been avoided if I'd just distracted him away from his pathological obsession with all things dangerous. Instead, overcome with fatigue and inured to the daily grind, I couldn't think of anything more attractive to occupy his mischievous fingers.***

So I'm going to sleep and hoping for a better day tomorrow. I can't do anything about Peter's teeth, or these stupid colds, or Kevin's insane work schedule, but I can make sure we're on the road to the park by 8:30, coffee in hand, ready to make sandcastles and swing. I can't imagine a better start to the day.****

(Meanwhile, Lucy cooed and giggled away. I'm beginning to suspect she was switched in the hospital nursery. No one that...calm...could be my child.)

*On a rainy day during this strip, Kevin and I saw a movie and ate 10 pounds of "buttered" popcorn. I have to believe the popcorn was more dangerous than the hike.

** Tonight I said, "perhaps this will redeem the fall semester for you: the Philies winning the Superbowl." Yep. Someone needs some sleep.

*** Oh, yes. This kid's going to be a serious troublemaker. Keep your eye on him: I see burned-down-buildings in his future.

**** Unless, of course, Peter and Lucy decide to sleep in until 11 a.m. and I join in on the fun.

"g" words (plus, is that baby cursing??)

A new host of favorite new words, all featuring some version of the "g" sound: eagle, bagel,* giggle, jingle, jungle, flamingo, snuggle, penguin. He's also been big on saying "cuddle" and "doggy," but they sound like "caca" and "daddy," respectively.

Also, it seems that many of Peter's most frequent words come out sounding like obscenities. I'll make a list, you guess the two words they sound like: sock, truck, fork, clock, soccer, duck.

And, he's taking to doing something wrong while saying "no, no!" and shaking his finger back and forth while doing it. My hope is that he's saying, "yes, I know this is action is a 'no-no." my fear is that he's saying, "I have no idea what 'no' means, except that you always say it when I'm sticking forks in the electrical outlet."

*Yesterday at the supermarket, one of the bakers so nicely gave Peter his own frosted donut. Peter said, "bagel!" and then later "my bagel!" as he licked the frosting off and proceeded to run around like a crazy baby hepped up on sugar and sprinkles. I'm certain it was the best "bagel" he's ever had.

things Peter has put in Lucy's mouth today (as of 8:52 a.m., PDT)

- his toothbrush, with toothpaste, many times*
- his finger, proclaiming "mouth!"
- several Cheerios and other floor food of unknown provenance and species
- one of his stuffed animals (I think in an effort for her to kiss it)
- his drooly mouth (see above)
- her bottle of vitamins**
- and, while not in her mouth, he has started piling pillows on her head while she's resting on the futon

* actually my old Crest spinning toothbrush, awaiting new batteries and head
** After getting over the fact that he couldn't have her vitamins, Peter is now obsessed with giving Lucy her vitamins - he retrieves the bottle for me every time I nurse her, even though she needs them only once a day. At least I won't forget to give them to her!

toilet learning

We've been talking a lot about poo-poo and pee-pee these days. Peter's not ready to toilet train, but, following Dr. Spock's lead, we are starting a little toilet learning with him. You know, the idea that we poop and pee in the toilet, and use toilet paper, and flush, and wash our hands, and then clap in excited and well-deserved celebration.

For the past few days, Peter will grab himself, say "pee-pee," and want to be put on the toilet to "make his pee-pees." The first time he did this, I believed him, took his diaper off, and waited for fifteen minutes for anything to happen, all the while realizing that if anything did happen, it would not land in the toilet but on my newly-washed jeans.

After this experience, I put Peter on the toilet, fully clothed, wait a few seconds, ask if he's "pee-peeing" (to which he always answers a very excited "yeah!"), wait a few more seconds and ask if he's done ("yeah!"), and then let him get toilet paper to flush down the toilet. Then we wash our hands. He seems very pleased with himself and enjoys the hand washing. For me, it's all about the hand washing.

I certainly have no idea if this is doing more harm than good, but I really don't think he's ready to do anything more. I'll let him pretend, was his hands, and then work on figuring out how to take off his shirt. That one's a little more doable right now.

you know what?

doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doooooo*

Sunday nights are awesome because Mad Men is on.

They're sad, too, because it means the respite of the weekend is coming to a close.

I'm learning to not mind the weekdays - the time when Kevin's gone - as much as I used to. I think I just had to suck up a bunch of myself and finally walk the talk I've been talking for weeks months years. You know, the "it's only for a few years" talk. The "I'll put my 'career' on hold while I stay home with the kids, because it's that important to us" talk. The, "well, we really can't afford decent day care, and that Montessori preschool I researched was almost the cost of our monthly rent in monthly tuition, and it was for three half-days a week" talk.

While loading up the kids to go grocery shopping, I misheard Kevin and thought he was asking me if I needed help. (He was really asking Peter something else.) I replied something somewhat snotty, something like, "I do this everysingleday without your help, thanks." Not in a vindictive, "I hate my life" way, but in a matter-of-fact way. I quickly added that having him there is a huge help, which it is. But, the fact is, there's a nice rhythm and pattern to our days without Kevin that gets a little out-of-sync when he's home.

I made this analogy: during the week, we're like classic rock. When Kevin's home, we're like punk rock. Both certainly are fine, but it takes me a bit of time to transition from Simon and Garfunkel to the Sex Pistols.

Certainly this arrangement is crappiest for Kevin, who enjoyed so much time with Peter last year and over the summer and who just can't spare the time this year, not when we have to move for real and he has to find a job that pays for our aforementioned rock-and-roll lifestyle. Luckily, both Peter and Lucy are young enough to not remember the semester Daddy cracked down, or the semester Daddy traveled the country in search of employment.

Kevin's headed for a conference for a few days at the end of the month, and I'm sure you'll hear quite a different tune - something about exhaustion and frustration and being ready for Kevin to come home, and possibly lots and lots about falling off the horse and eating my way through a bag of Oreos and three pints of Ben and Jerry's. But until then, I'll happily wake up Monday morning for our week of coloring-walks-coffees-parks-turtles-lunches-blocks-books-naps-Elmo-motorcycles-playing outside.

*Title and first line, direct quotes from Kevin, who then went on to celebrate the victory of the Devil Rays.

"they're balls"

"they're balls", originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Today Peter went to his first "real" birthday party for a boy who lives in our complex. It was hosted at The Jungle, one of a few locally-owned party places in the vein of a slightly run-down Chuck-E-Cheese.*

It was fun for several reasons: our neighbors were there, so we new a few of the families. This includes Peter's girlfriend Lea, her sister Andy, and their cousin Jeyser.

Also, Peter has yet to realize just what the arcade games are for, which means that he can't really ask us to pony up cash money. Sure, we snuck in a few rides when friends were willing to share, but he certainly didn't need to play skee-ball. Not that he didn't try.

Jeyser and Peter hit the road.

And they had good pizza, which I suspect is unusual in these types of venues. Weird birthday cake (angel food and coffee frosting...for an 8-year-old's birthday cake?), but good and plentiful pizza.

Peter seemed to really enjoy the small ball pool, but he especially enjoyed running around after Lea. And eating pizza. And eating cake. And eating at a table with big kids, without using a bib or a booster seat.

Don't tell Lea, but Peter's having lunch with someone else...

Lucy seemed to enjoy being passed around a few different sets of arms, fell asleep peacefully midway through our birthday party, and then screamed all the way home. What is it with our kids hating their carseat?

* A few times their costumed monkey mascot came through the party zone, and, it has to be said, he looked a little threadbare and mangy, like perhaps you could catch fleas or herpes from him. Also, the tokens said "Chuck-E-Cheese."

wedding weekend day 5: home again, home again

At some point on our first flight, I gave up caring about a lot of things, and let Peter do this. Why not? Kevin was taking a nap at the time.

This day mostly was spent packing our suitcases. I really am not exaggerating - it took forever to get all of our things crammed into our suitcases, only to rearrange them we decided we were pushing the weight limit.

It also was spent saying goodbye, getting in pre-flight naps, and making sure we had all the cracky we needed to get home without incident.

You may recall I had some bitter words toward the Milwaukee TSA, and it's true: they were incredibly unhelpful. So too were the check-in people, who snottily informed us that we were supposed to bring our own bag for Lucy's carseat. Uh, really? I mean, I'm OK with that if you tell me before I'm signing away liability for damage. I spent a greater portion of our first flight thinking of how we'd get home if Lucy's carseat was damaged, and I have yet to come up with a solution.

Also, the flight attendants on our first flight were really snotty and rude, commenting that our son should be buckled in his carseat, but failing to bring us the seatbelt extender we requested upon entering the plane that allowed us to buckle the carseat in to begin with.

We were delayed in Denver due to weather. Peter was handed a box of McDonald's french fries by someone sitting next to us in the terminal. That wasn't a fight we were fighting, and we let him eat them.

But, on our second flight, the babies napped and we watched free DirecTV, so that was awesome.

We arrived home in one piece, with all of our luggage, exhausted but happy to have clean sheets on the bed and a refrigerator full of milk to wake up to.

The end.

wedding weekend day 4: gettin' hitched

The Ross Family as of October 4, 2008

oh my word this day was so stressful for me maybe even more than my own wedding day because think about it: a newborn who needs her mother and a toddler who's going through an attachment thing and a wedding smack in the middle of naptime and a dress that allows breastfeeding but in an indecent way and a husband who proudly and literally stood by his brother as he was getting married

men in black

That said, let's get on with the big show:

First, a great wedding service! Jason and Jen found ways to make it their own - choosing different and interesting readings, giving each other a congratulatory high five after being proclaimed man and wife, and - most importantly - including a prayer that the Phillies will "smite the champions of the American League, whomever they might be." And, since I read the prayers, I actually got to ask that we pray for smiting. Sweet. I might add a smiting prayer to our regular nighttime rotation.

"and may God smite..."

I hope that the assembled friends and family were amused that Lucy and Peter decided to start crying just as the pastor began his opening remarks. I, for one, felt my blood pressure spike to levels even the most sophisticated sphygmomonometer could measure.*

I hope also that everyone was amused that Peter's refrain of "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" changed quickly to "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" when I left him in Kevin's arms before doing the reading, only to switch back to "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" when I reclaimed him and returned to our pew.

And, I hope that Jen's family isn't too upset that Peter probably ruined a photo or two, or that he walked down the aisle with his dress shirt hanging out, pointing to everyone he knew like some kind of pimp or lounge act. Seriously, it might have been my favorite moment from the ceremony.

Peter's apparently too cool to stand with the rest of his crew

No, really, my favorite part (and part where I always cry) is when people start walking down the aisle during weddings. It's the dresses and their happy/nervous/excited smiles and that stupid Pachelbel's Canon.** This wedding was no exception. I'll always remember the different looks on people's faces - watching Jason and Jen, Kevin, his parents and sister, as the event unfolded. (I'll also remember Connor Fell telling Peter to "be quiet!" in his successful quest to become the Most Helpful Person, Ever! at the wedding. This is in all seriousness: I owe this kid a thank you card and a bag of candy.)

After the wedding, several dozen photos were taken, all arranged without much pressure, but requiring nonetheless some tired toddler wrangling that proved difficult.

O'Connor family photo, minus 9 members - note Cuddle Bear by Peter's feet and the cracky in his hands

Then, to the reception!

I would not be so bold as to suggest that Peter was the star of the show (since a beautiful woman in a gorgeous whiteish gown*** was the queen of the day), but I do hope many people will remember Peter's mad dance moves, his quest to stuff his face full of red M&Ms from the candy bar, and the time the DJ called for everyone to "form a circle around Peter," who had been practicing for his moment in the spotlight for months: the chicken dance.

his face says "rescue me!" but his hands say "jazz!"

Peter reacted just as I suspected he would: staring dumbfoundedly at all of these adults staring at him and dancing in a ridiculous but choreographed manner, then busting out his best tail-feather-shakes. I found myself unable to handle the intricate moves of the chicken dance as I'd had a glass of wine with dinner and it put me over the edge. A year without drinking really sets your tolerance back.

The reception was a great party, made better by the photobooth and the candy bar. Both Kevin and I regret that we did not take better advantage of the candy bar, and suspect that Jason and Jen were left with many pounds of candy that could have been in our suitcase. The photobooth provided great fun for everyone, but especially for the O'Connor family. They're Kevin's cousins, and I think it's my (not so) secret wish to be a member of their family. A clan without being clannish, they have more fun than siblings ought to. We can't wait for Peter to grow up with cousins Jack and Charlotte just as Kevin grew up with these clowns.

Peter and Jack brainstorm ideas for the Pissly Report 2015; my favorite series of photos, ever.

Our night ended early because of sleepy babies (and we'd somehow managed to run out of diapers!), but I don't think we could have lasted much longer than we did. We certainly couldn't have kept up with Kevin's family - as in, his mother and father and aunts and uncles - who were reportedly up until 3 a.m. partying. Seriously. I'm impressed they made it up for breakfast the next morning.

it's not clear who's the sleepiest in this photo

* If you've spent as much time waiting in doctors' offices as I have, you would have plenty of time to memorize the pronunciation and spelling of this device. Because, if not for this distraction, I would have started going through the examination room drawers on several occasions.

** Which, on an odd but related note, is a song Peter can sing, and he knows it by name. It has everything to do with this diaper change toy he has, but still...impressive. Most impressive.

*** Anything you'd like to confess, Jen?

huh...huh...huh

, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Today, while Peter went splashing in the sand and water, Lucy started chuckling like Beavis and Butthead.

It's kind of how Peter laughs now, when he's in a silly mood, and it's pretty adorable. Of course, when I tried to get the camera out to video it, Peter decided to start pouring sand over his head, and his eyes begged me to intervene.

I thought, as a change of pace, to tell the ways in which Lucy is not an easy baby - or, at least, things that she doesn't tolerate that didn't seem to mind Peter. Remember that on almost every measure Lucy's much easier than her brother was (not that he was difficult!). So, here goes:

- She seems to be much more sensitive, in general. I hope this isn't the first step down a path of gender identification, but I do believe things just bother her more. She's certainly more distracted by noise than Peter was. I'm pretty sure that at 2 months Peter would sleep through the bombing of London if I was holding him. Also, she has no tolerance for poopy diapers and wails until she's changed into a fresh Pamper. (And can I just give a plug to Pampers? Expensive, yes. Worth every penny, certainly. We've tried a few diaper brands, and they are the ones I'd like up against my bare bottom.) She has an almost vampiric reaction to sunlight.

- She's very particular about how she's being held. By that I mean: there are only certain times of the day in which she'll allow you to Bjorn her. She is not a fan of the stroller - but, then again, given the state it's in (covered in cracky crumbs and sand), I don't blame her. By this time, Peter was strolling all over Mountain View. Lucy's been in the stroller exactly once, and all other efforts to put her in have been failures.

- Neither Kevin nor I really know how to dress her on any given day. With Peter it was so easy, but with Lucy...the options seem more difficult. (Again with the gender identification!) I certainly don't want to put her in a dress to strap her in the carrier and tote her to the park. Not only is it uncomfortable to have your dress all jammed up in your who-ha, but it's not the warmest costume either. She has a dresser full of pink clothes, but (unsurprisingly) Kevin and I shy away from them while getting her dressed in the morning. No wonder everyone thinks she's a boy!

I think that might be it, though. I mean, last night might have been the toughest since she's been 4 weeks old - she woke a few times, once I think because I woke her up by accident - and then spit up all over herself this morning. A lame way to wake up, sure, but it definitely could be worse.

oh, the cracky don't stop

overheard from the bathroom:

Kevin: No, Peter, you can't take the cracky in the bath. Only really fat people eat in the bath.

Peter: (furious protesting, then a very forlorn) cracky!

worst October ever

"If the Phillies win the world series it will be the most satisfying sports experience of my life, do you know what I mean? I mean, Carolina winning the national championship was cool and all, but it was expected, do you know what I mean? Don't type that, you'll jinx it. I'm gonna stop talkin'."

Said by Kevin Ross, PhD, who then went to the kitchen to whip up some of his wok-olive oil-popcorn madness.

(I think I might have actually typed this verbatim, too.)

lip-smacking good

Rocking a David Lynch look.

While keeping these two in line today, I heard a curious noise, like water dripping from a faucet into a bowl of water.

It was Lucy, smacking her lips. Making kisses. Her mouth remained pursed for the greater part of the night.

Peter never went through a kissing-mouth phase, but he never went through the raspberry phase either. He still won't give you a proper kiss; his technique is more like horny nerdy middle school boy than anything. (Speaking from experience, Amy?*)

I don't think enough can be said for just how good Lucy is. It's so fun to spend so much happy, quiet, peaceful time with her.

*No.

artiste at work

artiste at work, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Peter's lately been big into coloring and drawing things. Before we moved them to a new residence at his table, Peter asked for his crayons before his morning diaper change. Now, he's asking for his sidewalk chalk.

Sure, they're only scribbles, but he loves it.

His expertise is "rainbows." I think if he uses more than one color, it's a "rainbow" and results in much dancing around and excitement. 

Peter's own rainbow connection

(Also: he's taken to playing a few notes of music on whatever he can find, jumping up, clapping his hands, shouting "bravo!" and then bowing. I have no idea where he learned this ridiculous amount of self-congratulation. Of course, all efforts to video his performances result in a sudden interest in dump trucks.)

wedding weekend day 3: Friday

Friday's main activity was the awesome skating party at Jen's family's rink in the suburbs of Milwaukee. And what a great party it was! Thank you, Perry Family, for some awesome hospitality.

But first:

Kevin and I took a walk in search of coffee, naps, and a lake. We succeeded in finding all three. We also succeeded in meeting up with Kevin's family at a pseudo-Irish pub near our hotel. Did you know that you can still smoke in restaurants in Wisconsin? Despite our cries of "smokers are jokers!" we inhaled a few fumes and didn't linger.

After lunch, Kevin took Peter on a brewery tour with the rest of his family, while Lucy and I hung out in the hotel room and watched our fill of daytime TV - a rare and guilty pleasure. Peter and Kevin bowed out of the tour early and instead played with Charlotte. Reports were they had a great time. (Although it might be perverse: every time they were together there was a chorus of "give him/her hugs and kisses!")

Then, to the skating party! Some highlights:
Peter enjoyed the popcorn (so did Kevin)


as always, I made a bad footwear decision


our family, sans Lucy


going for a sled


going for a walk

New best friends

rocking some sweet bangs

rocking some sweet bangs, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Last night, I chopped Peter some awesome bangs since his hair was getting in his eyes. Literally. He would stop and blink and become very confused about the little things poking him.

So, he's looking even MORE like a girl these days, while Lucy's plumping out and wearing her brother's warm hand-me-downs and looking so much like a boy.

I'm sure Peter will resent this ridiculous haircut when he's 16, then come to appreciate it when he's 30, much as we all do with our parents' parenting efforts.

bread!

bread!, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Kevin said that the more I talk about how good it is, the less good it becomes.

So I will just say that I made loaf #2 today and certainly can get used to the idea of fresh-baked bread for dinner every night.

When we finish the batch in the refrigerator now, I'll make some challah...French toast...bacon...chocolate. Oh, see, we've come full circle.

FYI: Kevin said that the b/c bar was "nasty" and made some rude comments about needing to brush his teeth.

checking out the world

checking out the world, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Lucy's gradually making the transition to outward-facing-baby in the Bjorn. Today's walk was the longest she'd stayed facing out - about 15 minutes from the coffee shop to the park and then while her brother swung, and then about 20 minutes during the walk from the park to the fish store.

Her hat garnered a lot of attention, and I'm glad to say I paid exactly $1 for it at Target last year. 

Peter rocked a similar look a year ago.

I'm getting paranoid that she's developing a flat spot on the back of her head from all of this great nighttime sleeping she does, plus I have a lingering worry in the back of my head about her head size in general (reported to be smaller than average, somewhat flat lining in growth, with small soft spots).

I think it's that she's just otherwise so healthy and easy that I have to look for something to be wrong with her. Because, you know, two months is a LONG time to not go to the doctor.

yum!

We've taught Peter to say "yum!" when he eats food he likes, and I can think of no better word to describe today's culinary adventures.

Bacon and chocolate bar still remains the best thing ever. You can hate all you want, but that just leaves more for me.

Freezer soup? Yum, yum, yum. I'm a little skeeved out by the freezing-in-a-Ziploc bag (being somewhat anti-plastic), but Martha Stewart gave me the idea and it's just too convenient to pass up. Freezer space is at a premium, and this saves a ton of room.

Refrigerator rice? An awesome addition to said freezer soup. The best cooking tip I've gotten in the past year is to just boil brown rice like pasta. (Actually, you can boil all grains this way, but brown rice is my Achilles' heel.) I think you're supposed to rinse the rice first and then throw it back in the pot to steam up a bit more, but I have taken a completely lazy route and just boil and strain. Easy peasy.

Five-minute-a-day bread? Simply awesome. Kevin and I finished off the small loaf I made tonight before I had the sense to take a picture. Seriously, for the effort (very, very little), such great reward. So much so that I stocked up on some essential supplies to make this a long-term habit.

I mean, the idea of having fresh baked bread every single day of the week is crazy. I don't know if there's enough Nutella/butter/jam to handle it. (Note to self: can I make Nutella myself? Homemade butter? Danger, Will Robinson: cholesterol ahead.)

fighting back

fighting back, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

It was only a matter of time before Lucy got her first eye gouge/punch in.

Peter, shocked at her aggression, said "ouch!" and then ran away.

To be fair, one of Peter's new favorite words is "ouch," said much as I say it, as an exclamation whenever I slightly hurt myself.*

When he says "ouch," I always ask him where it hurts. Sometimes, he has no idea. Today, he said, "ouch," and then replied "wiener!" to my question. And, in case I didn't know what he meant, he grabbed himself.

But you know what? He had a diaper rash coming on, so it did hurt. His communication skills are becoming more and more helpful. If only we can get him to stop answering "yes" for every question.

Lucy puts up with so much stuff from her brother - none of it intentionally mean or hurtful, but still annoying. Like the fact that he won't let us put Lucy down for a nap without flipping out. Or the fact that she has a nose! And a head! And eyes! Or, that she might actually want to play with toys that Peter has his eyes on.

She'll be a fighter, though. She's already hard at work on her crawling skills - something that demands a video to be believed. It's a sight. But as I've mentioned: it's a total escape plan.

* Because, if he were really hurt, he wouldn't say "ouch" but let out a sad, sad cry.

Lucy and Peter at play

Lucy and Peter at play, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Lest you think sibling rivalry has arrived, I assure you that Peter and Lucy "play" quite well together.

bedtime

pajamas, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

(1) Whenever Peter's wet hair is combed, he looks like Richie Rich, and reaffirms our belief that he will never (not ever!) have a haircut.

(2) Lucy looks mighty weary about this entire situation.

(3) So similar looking at birth, Peter and Lucy are on two different genetic trajectories. Recent opinion is that Peter's swinging back to looking like Kevin while Lucy's looking more like me. Kevin thinks they look similar, but, when going back to look at two-month-old Peter pictures, I see little similarity.

bacon + chocolate = ohmygoodness

I was going to post about our stressful/sad/fun day; mention that Peter's old babysitter dropped off a bounty of St. Mary's gear; talk briefly of the quattro nap our family took while the Eagles eeked out a victory; gloat that I'd made THREE DOUBLE BATCHES of soup that are freezing up, plus rice for the week, plus a whole batch of this bread (another post in itself); wax poetic about the cuteness of Lucy; maybe finish up the tale of last weekend; and discuss the virtues of deep-cleaning your kitchen at 1 a.m. (bizarre NPR shows! no kids to entertain!).

But instead, friends, I'm going to talk about the bacon chocolate bar I'm trying to devour in one sitting. I think it's fair to say that I was obsessed with it for over a month after trying to convince Kevin it would be the best thing ever. (He remained unconvinced.) I became briefly discouraged after being unable to find it and thinking I'd dreamed the whole thing up.

But today, doing my after-the-kids-are-asleep grocery shopping, I found it.

I made it mine.

It will take up permanent residence on my hips and butt, but for that, I'm OK.

five random things

- escalators are not toys, no matter how fun they are to go up and down (or, the story of Peter's first band aid)

- everyone thinks Lucy is a boy and Peter is a girl, even when she's in pink and Peter's in tractor-driving dinosaurs

- I'm down THREE pant sizes since mid-August! Since our scale was borrowed and then broken by our neighbors, I can only gauge my weight loss by the number of clothes from my closet I can or cannot wear.

- Lucy, we think, is looking more like me, and Kevin was amazed to discover a tiny drop of drool coming from her mouth. She's a dainty one.

-Kevin's on his way out the door for some Indian take-out and to pick up a video. He's a great husband.

still doing this

still doing this, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Our first activity when we get to the park is to swing.

He likes to start on these swings, then move over to the baby swings where I push him REALLY high.

early fall watermelon

early fall watermelon, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

This is what they do: sit on the step and eat their watermelon. It's kind of a romantic date, actually. All they need is a bottle of wine and a couple candles.

P.S. Hey, Jenna, you can stop feeling jealous - check out the pants AND long-sleeved shirts on the kids. Although, Lea isn't wearing any shoes, and I'm still in a t-shirt and flip-flops.

wedding weekend post #2: Thursday

rehearsing, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

We woke Thursday morning to the promise of a free buffet breakfast. Peter grossed out Kevin by going to town on a plate of scrambled eggs, then cried "bagel!" and polished off my breakfast, too.

(Actually, Kevin woke Thursday morning to a fussy, milk-less toddler. Do not stand in the way of this kid and his "moo," a newish word for milk, possibly because he noticed the cool cows hanging out on the milk cartons in our fridge. They headed to the nearest milk-and-diapers-providing store, allowing Lucy and me to sleep in a bit.)

We headed back upstairs only to find that the party posse had started arrive: Gram and Pop! They wasted no time getting their hands on Lucy, and Peter remembered just how much he loves his Poppy.

On the lunch menu: two cute ones!

The main tasks of Thursday were to: get KJ's tux; rehearse the wedding; eat our fill at the rehearsal dinner. A snag with the first task - specifically, but not limited to, Uncle J's Hammer Pants Incident - meant that we were set back on all events. The kids crashed HARD, my stress levels went through the roof, Peter's fever returned, and Kevin put on a brave face. We put the kids to bed (after running into Erin, Tim, and Charlotte in the hotel lobby), Kevin went to party with his family, and I ate the previously-mentioned dinner of goldfish crackers and Andes mints.* And watched the VP debates, which did NOTHING for my stress levels.**

Later that night, Peter began the "mommy! daddy!" wailing that characterized much of his nighttime sleep. Note: my attempts to calm him involved bringing him into our bed, which only resulted in bruised ribs for both K and me and a flailing toddler taking up far more than his fair share of the bed.

* To be fair, Kevin brought some food back for me from the rehearsal dinner. But, since I'd told him to take his time, it arrived around 11:30 p.m.

** Sarah Palin scares the poop out of my pants.

homers

, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

While walking home:

Amy: the Eagles score...
Peter: Touchdowns!
Amy: Yes, and the Phillies score homers.
Peter: Nonononononono! Eagles!

(Then he saw a motorcycle and all talk of scoring, football-style or otherwise, was dropped.)

adventures of superhappyfunbaby

adventures of superhappyfunbaby, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Photos from the park today. Probably while Peter was trying to jump off the monkey bars.

Made during a dual nap of 2+ hours.

Hello, new answer to avoiding my job.

Lucy Lou is two (months old)!

long and short, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Today's two month checkup revealed that Lucy is 12 pounds, 4 ounces and 24 inches long. That's a two pound gain over the course of a month. She's still in the 90th percentile for girls, but her height-for-weight has ridden the 50th percentile curve since day one. Big, yes. Obese, no.

She's mighty strong though, at least according to our doctor, who noted that few babies can "overpower" her while she manipulates their legs to check for hip dislocation.

While I'm sure Lucy did not overpower Dr. Soriano, I do believe the strong part: when we put her on her tummy for tummy time, Lucy tries to crawl. Seriously, friend girl, calm down with this development. You can wait a few months to bust out an army crawl. (Although I totally understand wanting to have an exit strategy from your brother's overlovin' ways.)

Peter, for his part, is developing away as well. He's in a parroting phase and often repeats the last word you say. He also still answers most questions you ask him with a cheerful and certain "yes," but we have been hearing a few more "no"s as well.

This morning, he pointed to a lowercase "t" on the cover of on of his library books and said "Jesus!"

He's big on "up" and "down," and can identify yellow things well.

It took about ten minutes to get them to pose for this picture, mostly because Peter wanted to put Lucy on his chest like he'd just seen me do. Neither Lucy nor I were keen on the idea. Maybe next time, dude.

cool ride

cool ride, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

Today we had a play date with Peter's friend Wyatt and my friend Erika. I got a call after loading the kids into the car that Erika would be 10 minutes late for our start time, and rather than take the kids out and reload them (which would take about 10 minutes in itself), I decided to hit up the Safeway next to Erika's house.

We don't usually shop at Safeway because we have to get the cart pictured above, which has the handling of a rusty wheelbarrow. I crashed into two different people while trying to steer it today.

Actually, we don't shop at Safeway because I have a tenancy to buy sundae fixings when I visit, and Kevin's always sold by the 2 for $4 bags of potato chips. We generally don't keep potato chips or other snack foods in the house because we both have zero willpower when we know they are here and have been known to eat sinful amounts of potato chips or sundaes to "get rid of the evidence."

But we do visit Safeway once in a while to get ice cream and Cheerios, which always are cheaper here.

I managed to escape today's visit with an inexplicable but delicious bowl of chicken salad, a few boxes of Cheerios, some magazines, and a giant coffee.

Peter, meanwhile, managed to have THREE employees offer him cookies from the bakery. I declined every one, as we are on a detox from the wonderfully fun yet wonderfully unhealthy wedding weekend of last week. (Diet highlight: my dinner of goldfish crackers and Andes mints. Second place: Peter's dinner of butter, strawberries, ketchup, and red M&Ms.)

this afternoon: making faces of one sort or another

While waiting for Kevin to come home, we like to spread the bright yellow blanket on the grass, have pre-dinner snacks, and play in the slowly changing October weather.

happy!

they're both smiling!, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

I love how, in this picture, Lucy looks like she might weigh just as much as Peter. She's just keeping it all in her cheeks and her stomach.

Also, check out Lucy's fierce bed head. Yowza!

We had a rough night last night, one that doesn't really reflect in this picture. At one point, everyone was crowded in our not-so-large bed. Cozy, yes. Comfortable, no.

I'm hoping a week of living our California schedule will get the kids back to their happy places again. So far, they're good - but easily thrown. Naptime today was no picnic. Lucy woke up TWICE last night. So keep your fingers crossed that we won't have to see 3 a.m. again tonight.

(This morning, I said to Kevin, "I don't think I have enough heroin in my bloodstream to handle this morning." I meant to say caffeine. I think that rests my case. We're all a little tired.)

why our PG&E bill runs in the thousands

why our PG&E bill runs in the thousands, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

This morning:

I open the bedroom door.

Peter cries, "Mommy!"

I go into the kitchen to say hello to Peter and Kevin.

On my way, I hear, "these aren't for playing with."

I think, "hmm. This should be interesting."

I walk into the kitchen and see this: Peter taking out the yogurts (and leftover Jello from Grammy's August visit) to stack up.

I'm impressed by his stacking skills. He also put all of the yogurts away.

What he needs to work on now is keeping the refrigerator door closed.

how I found him

how I found him, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

While playing outside today, I stepped into the stairwell to nurse Lucy, which meant that I couldn't really see Peter at play with the neighbors.

I did hear a few cries of "cracky!" but attributed it to toddler Tourette's* more than anything.

Then, coming to check on the little guy, I noticed that it was a stray bag of FUNYONS of all things that had kept him so calm, quiet, and well fed.

Fear not, blogfriends: Peter found one of his playmate's snacks. The bag was empty but for the crumbs. Peter fought valiantly for the crumbs, but I think that he mostly liked holding the bag in his hand, just as he'd seen the older kids do minutes before.

And, in a moment of parenting pride: when finished with his accessory, Peter threw it away. Without being asked. Of course, he asked for a round of applause, which I quickly gave him.

* Do you know what I mean by this? The constant, nonsensical refrain of a select few words. Recently, we've been treated to a parade of "mommy, daddy, mommy, daddy," and a few "baby, baby, baby, baby" incidents, too.

parental guilt

, originally uploaded by amy_and_kevin.

I went back to check the entries for Peter at about Lucy's age (2 months), and found that they were chock-full of interesting observations and daily stories.

Hmm.

It seems I'm neglecting my daughter, but I promise that's not the case. I suppose some of the novelty of infanthood has worn off. Oh! Another leaky diaper! Must we run to the blog? Maybe not this time. (I can hear the chorus of relieved sighs from here, people!)

The fact is, she's been such a consistent and steady baby from the very start. So, just who is Lucy? At the risk of repeating myself (but certainly to preserve these observations for posterity), let's list out her more salient characteristics:

- Easy, easy, easy, easy, easy. Seriously. This is not a first-child baby. This is a reward-for-something-good baby. To put it into perspective: today, at the park, she had a fussy period. It lasted about five minutes. That's it. Oh, man, she's an easy one.

- Sleepy, sleepy, sleepy. From five weeks old, she's slept through the night. She goes to bed easily, naps with just a little encouragement from me, and sleeps just as easily in our arms as in the Bjorn. (We've not really tried bassinet sleeping as her brother will not allow it. Perhaps he remembers his own fussy naptimes?)

- Happy, happy, happy. It's so easy to get a smile from her, and her smiles are just so big and so full of life that they really are little laughs in themselves.

- Talking? She certainly has different tones of voice, and has enjoyed cooing back at my nearly constant refrain of "hi, Lucy!" and "pretty pretty princess." Plus, I'm pretty sure she's giggled once or twice.

- Dry as a bone. So little spit-up that you almost forget that babies can spit up. No drool to speak of, yet. Diapers that mostly hold their own. The tiniest tears that well up when she's had enough of the car seat.

- Otherwise dainty and clean, as well. By this age, Peter was not only spitting up and drooling, but he also was experiencing some cradle crap and losing his hair. Lucy has a patch of dry skin on her face, but her hair remains firmly planted in he skull. (Although Kevin says that she's losing her hair, I disagree.)

My overwhelming, crushing fear is that she's not getting nearly as much stimulation and one-on-one time as her brother. Hmm. No, that's not the fear - clearly she's getting less undivided attention than Peter received. I suppose my fear is that without so much of my attention she will grow up to feel unloved, unwanted, overlooked, and neglected.

My concern is that there's only so much of me, and there's a toddler careening off the slide while the baby is peacefully examining the shadows of her hands.

My suspicion is that Lucy will grow up to be just as happy and well adjusted as her brother, and not having a "staring wall" or an extra two hours of her mother cooing in her face will neither help nor harm her future happiness.

My hope is that she always stays this cute.

wedding weekend post #1: Wednesday

I'll save myself the insanity of posting the entire weekend in one post and do it day by day. Realize this is more memory keeping for me than entertainment for you, but consider it a sort of "don't do what Donny Don't does" primer for traveling with young children.

As you may recall, we left you with Peter's fever spiking over 105 degrees.* Kevin and I planned the best we could to have everything ready to go Wednesday morning so that Kevin could take Peter to the doctor and we could make our 10:20 a.m. flight.

It was close. Very close. Uncomfortably close. Angry husband-and-wife close. I'll save you the details, but it involves an explosively poopy diaper and some exceptionally helpful gate agents. Thank you, Frontier Airlines, for being really awesome and helpful.

Our flight was broken into two pretty even segments by a stop in Denver. In most cases, I think it's preferable to have a layover when traveling with children, since it gives you a chance to diaper change easily and it allows the kids to stretch their legs a bit.

For the most part, Peter and Lucy were awesome on their flights. Peter was antsy during some parts, and became frustrated when his nap was thwarted by our layover, but really, it could have been much worse. Much, much worse. I mean, Peter still had an over 100 degree fever. Lucy lived up to her reputation for being easy and good by sleeping and nursing the entire flights.

We got to the hotel easily and were impressed by how nice it was. Peter, too, was impressed by the hotel, and promptly went nuts. He started doing things he never does - unrolling the entire roll of toilet paper, opening and closing doors with a maniacal "bye-bye" each time, and climbing inside cabinets. We did a 10 minute baby proofing and then called it a day.

Later that night, Jason and Jen came to visit. I think they were a little overwhelmed by the impending weekend and unfinished tasks, and I know I was completely disoriented by some ear-pressure-cloggage, so I don't think the visit was as social as it could have been. Peter, however, was quick to make friends (again) with his uncle and aunt and wasted no time in showing them his best tricks. (Including: "where is your wiener?" and "where are your balls?")

And then, a bedtime punctuated by the wails of a now-verbal toddler, alternating between "mommy!" and "daddy!" while falling asleep. A common refrain in the coming days, I'm afraid.

No photos of the journey, mostly because of stress then fatigue.

Up next: the wave of relative molestation begins. And then: outright bribes for good behavior.

*My mad WebMD skills lead me to believe that Peter had the Fifth Disease. Plus, I had it when I was a kid. Plus, it means that it's not very serious. Anyway, he's all better, so there.

home is where your high-speed internet connection is

We're back from our journey to Milwaukee. (I suppose I never said this: we were going to Milwaukee for this fantastic event.)

I'll have many words to say about the trip, but here's a choice turn of phrase for the Milwaukee Airport's TSA employees:

It's really difficult enough to travel through the security checkpoint with diaper bag/carseat/stroller/carry-on/laptop PLUS two children. Did you really have to dismantle our carefully packed diaper bag? Did you really have to rip apart our son's carseat? Thanks for all of that help, five people who were wearing the bright blue TSA uniforms but were of absolutely no assistance whatsoever as we struggled with our mighty loads.

Meanwhile, Peter and Lucy got to hang out with some cousins:

Peter and Charlotte bond, toddler-style: over snacks. (PS: Yes, that's a tiny tux Peter's wearing.)

Emily proves she's the babysitter of the bunch, holding Lucy like a pro.