Kindergarten

Today I registered Tommy for kindergarten.

Remember not so long ago when you all rejoiced with me because I was finally pregnant? Remember how then you cried with me because his heart wasn't beating in there and Dr. Man thought maybe there was no baby at all (but I made a deal with T-man and Dr. Man was wrong)? Remember when my ankles were bigger than your waist? When I barfed in all the public restrooms in the state of Utah? When my belly got all abusive at church and started smackin' people? When I thought I peed my pants, but really my water broke? And when he was born and we all fell in love with his beautiful beautiful self?

Well that baby is so big now that the people want to teach him things, so in the fall he'll start kindergarten.

He's so big that when we walked into the Dr.'s office to pick up his immunization records he didn't even cry.

He's so big that he likes to read some words to me when we have snuggles and stories. But mostly he doesn't like taking tests - which is clearly what reading words is all about...

He's so big that his feelings are hurt by his friends, his body no longer heals at the freakish wolverine rate of a newborn and he can tell when he has hurt someone else.

He's so big that prefers showers over baths and draws smiley faces on the fogged up glass when I ask him if he's ok in there.

And oddly he's still so small. So small that he still loves that "lovey bear" someone gave us when he was born.

He's so small that he still snuggles when we read stories.

He's so small that his backpack is bigger than he is.

He's so small that I really can't imagine sending him off into that big bad school all by himself.

He's so small that when I pick him up, he still snuggles into my lap and giggles when I tell him that he used to be so small that he didn't even have to bend his knees to snuggle on my lap.

Remember that time we had a baby? Part 4

Dr Man walked into the room, pulling on gloves and energetically and said "Well, one way or another we're going to get this baby here in the next 10 minutes. You ready?"

I was ready. I sortof couldn't figure out why we had waited so long anyway, I mean I had checked in the night before for that very purpose, so I don't know why he thought it was some big revelation that we ought to have a baby sometime soon.

3 nurses, Dr. Man and Anesthesiologist were all there coaching me. Anesthesiologist was trying to teach me how to push and said something irreverent about pretending I was pooping. Then she was thoroughly impressed with my pushing skills when it came time. She was really really good at being impressed. I loved her. I wonder if she'd be willing to follow me around and be impressed with me all day long...

That was at 2:15pm. Bubbah was born at 2:19pm.

Since we were in a bit of a rush to get him here, Dr. Man got out the forceps and the scissors. After Josh watched him do the episiotomy he came back up and whispered in my ear about how "that is gonna HUUURT tomorrow!" I rolled my eyes back in my head far enough to read my own mind - but couldn't bring myself to slug him.

Josh was totally into the whole thing, and definitely wanted to cut the cord. But when Tommy's head came out it (the cord) was wrapped so tight around his neck that he wasn't breathing and his heart kept stopping. "Oooooohhhhhhh! THAT'S why his sheet was so crappy." said the nurses. Or maybe that was me. Whatever - I was drugged.

When Dr. Man cut the cord there was so much pressure built up in it, that blood spurted everywhere: all over me, all over the room, and even a little bit on my purse. Good times. The nurses cleaned me up, which was weird because I could feel them wiping down my legs with towels, but I could see that they were scrubbing hard, and I could only feel a little bit of it. So it turns out the epidural did work. On my legs anyway.

They poked and prodded Thomas, put him on oxygen, took his blood, and forced him to cry against his will. The first time I ever saw my baby was from across the room and it was just his tiny little foot while they took his footprint. Perhaps that's why I'm obsessed with his toes...it's the first part of him I ever saw in real life.

I would have liked for them to put his tiny squirmy slimy body in all its disgusting-ness right on me after he was born, but I like more that he survived the first few minutes after the whole experience way better.

The held him up to me for about .2 seconds as they whisked him out the door and down the hall for more help.

And Josh followed.

Dr. Man stayed with me long enough to finish stitching me up then he left too.

So there I was, alone in my delivery room. Babyless. Husbandless. But occasionally being checked on by the new shift of nurses.

I never did hold Thomas in that room. When I insisted that I felt fine 2 hours later, they allowed me to "prove it" by going to the bathroom, which might have been the most horrifying experience I've ever had. I've never seen so much blood in my life. After proving that I could walk, they wheeled me down to the room that would be ours for the next two days.

They brought me the sweetest and most fragile baby in the whole wide world and told me he was mine. Josh came back and together we started being parents.

People came to visit, made all kinds of comments on who he looked like and just how beautiful he was. Grandma Egbert breathed a sigh of relief because "thank goodness he didn't get those weird Egbert toes!" and we all breathed in the beauty of the new baby.

Remember that time we had a baby? Part 3

The next morning they started me on Pitocin. I was only dilated to like a 3 or 4 which sounds a whole lot closer to halfway than it really is. I remember them saying that and thinking "wow, we can do all this one more time" because that's what "halfway" means right? Wrong.

Around 5:30 in the morning I called in to work and left a message for my boss and one for my dear friend. They had me on oxygen, cuz you know...the pressure cuff was not invasive enough and I was only hooked up to 3 monitors, and an IV and that seems insufficient. So I'm sure the message was as garbled as you imagine it. "Um. Josh and I are at the hospital and instead of coming to work today we're going to have a baby. I didn't ___________"

I was very concerned about the reports I hadn't pulled, the meeting I was missing and the stuff I left open on my desktop. But I have to say, of all the "I'm not coming to work today" messages I've left in my life, this was by far my favorite one. If you ever get the chance to leave that message you should take it. I recommend calling as many people as you think might possibly miss you. Not just your boss.

At 9am I'd been on the Pitocin for 3 or 4 hours and the nurses kept asking me how I was feeling, adjusting my monitors and commenting on "this crappy sheet" which showed Bubbah's heart rate all over the place because the monitors weren't staying put.

They asked when I wanted the epidural and I said "whenever". I don't know how these things are supposed to work and I really just wanted them to tell me what came next. So they brought in the anesthesiologist in at around 10.

She read me all the stuff about how if it went wrong I could die, the baby could die, and on the off chance that we didn't die, we could both be paralyzed. Also, they weren't even sure the number of diseases the epidural could cause. Then she said "so....do you want it?" and I looked at Josh wondering if it was a trick question. What kind of profession is required by law to talk you out of using their services and then ask if you still want it? I said yes but wondered if they had the police outside waiting to drag me to jail for child endangerment and it was all a trap. It wasn't. That really is the stupid law.

While I sat on the edge of the bed curling my spine to the best of my ability she prepped all the stuff I didn't wanna see. But Josh totally wanted to see. And he did.

She commented on the perfect curve I was able to give her and I gave myself a gold star in my head. "Go me! I have a curly spine!" Then she introduced me to The Button, told me to move around as much as possible to let the drugs work their numbing magic everywhere and went on her way.

Remember the "crappy sheet" that was supposed to be recording my baby's heart rate? The one that looked like he died every few minutes? It never really occurred to me that the crappy sheet had to do with anything except the monitors. So when the nurses told me that his heart rate kept dropping I didn't really panic.

They came to check on me every few minutes and finally decided to do an internal heart rate monitor for Baby Thomas.

We saw one of these things in our "how to have a baby" class and I really recommend not ever looking at one, just in case. But if you've been there, you know that they screw this thing into the top of his head. Screw. It. In. Like the buttons on my grandmother's sofa. They have the sharp twisty thing that SCREWS. IN.

Once they had a solid read on his heart rate they realized that it really was dropping.

Following the anesthesiologist's orders I tried to switch which side I was laying on every few minutes, but every time I rolled to my left, Bubbah's heart rate dropped.

I was feeling the contractions on one side of my body, and Josh desperately wanted to push The Button. He asked about every 30 seconds if I needed more drugs, I kept telling him that I was fine, but eventually told him he could push The Button if he wanted to. He did.

Later, Anesthesiologist came in to "dose me" while I was on the bad side hoping that it would mean I couldn't feel the contractions on that side. But when his heart rate dropped I told them I didn't mind feeling the contractions on half of me if it meant his heart was still beating. So I stayed where I belonged on the other side of my body.

I remember watching 4 nurses and an anesthesiologist standing around the monitor looking at it and asking the others what they thought. Eventually someone decided to call Dr. Man, which they did. Since his office is about a 30 second walk down the hall from the hospital room he was there right away.

to be continued again......

Remember that time we had a baby? Josh's version

And I quote: "We went to the hospital, then you got some drugs and fell asleep so I got lunch at the cafeteria. Then Tommy was born."

Remember that time we had a baby? Part 1

It was a Thursday night and I was blogging about an award my friend gave me, when I thought I peed my pants.

But then I peed my pants again.

And again.

And I called my mom to see if maybe I was having a baby and not losing control of my bladder.

I couldn't feel the contractions, but I could see them happening. So I rested my hand on my belly and typed with one hand (must.....finish........blogging....) and felt the contractions with my other hand.

I had an appointment scheduled with my OBGYN the next afternoon at 2 and I couldn't understand why my mom thought I needed to go to the hospital tonight instead of just asking Dr. Man about it tomorrow at my appointment. Her "you have to have the baby within 24 hours of your water breaking" logic didn't work on me since there were 6 hours between my appointment at 2pm and the 8pm 24-hour mark. Plenty of time to have a baby if I needed to.

So I called my sister who had her baby just 6 weeks earlier and asked what happened when her water broke. She told me I had to call the hospital.

The nurse at the hospital told me I had to come in. I asked if we needed to hurry or if we could take our sweet time getting there. That was at 8:30 or 9. The contractions were still 7-9 minutes apart and I could hardly feel them. She said I could take my time.

So I slowly gathered my lists of stuff I wanted at the hospital and packed my bags. Josh started to clean out his car which was full of Redbox crap and installed the car seat.

We loaded up the car, cleaned the kitchen and headed for the hospital at about 11pm. We talked on the way about calling the moms and telling them we were going, but I wasn't at all convinced that Tommy would be making an appearance. And I was terrified of telling everyone we were going to the hospital and then having to tell them that I really just can't control my bladder. But Josh was more terrified of the backlash of not telling everyone we were going to the hospital. So we called his mom.

I'd heard horror stories of starving laboring mothers who weren't allowed to eat anything but ice chips so I made Josh stop at Wendy's and we ate in the parking lot before going to the hospital.

I remember sitting in the car talking to Josh thinking that I should be a lot more nervous about this whole thing, but I wasn't. I wasn't scared. I wasn't even anxious. I was just sitting in the car eating Wendy's while my amniotic fluid soaked the old towel I was sitting on. What could be more natural?

To be continued.......

Another visit to the Dr.

Tommy's 9-month-old-ness means a new trip to the Dr.

At a whopping 17 lbs 8.8 ounces my kid has broken into the double digits in weight percentile-dom. 10th to be exact. He's also 28 inches long which puts him in the 50th percentile for height. His noggin is also completely average.

Being the first patient in the morning means not as much time waiting in the waiting room with the other "well kids". But we did have a few minutes to observe the new parents (3 days old!) in the corner.

I remember going in when Tommy was 3 days old and seeing a mom who was there for her ENORMOUS child's 1 year checkup. I remember thinking "Wow! A whole year! I don't know if we'll ever be that old." And I watched this new mom's face think the exact same thing when I told her my ENORMOUS (10th percentile) "baby" was 9 months old.

Her husband was with her, she was wearing sweat pants and if she's anything like me she was terribly uncomfortable on those stupid chairs. I almost told her I was impressed with how casually she sat down (she didn't cringe or anything!) but then I decided that commenting on another woman's ability to sit after having a child is probably not socially acceptable behavior.

Her baby slept quietly in her car seat, her blankets still look new, she still has all her baby hair and  I'm willing to bet neither of them have slept in the past 3 days and they are both positively glowing. They probably haven't fought about what to do with their child at all. They seemed to bask in the newness and goodness of it all.

They made goo goo eyes at each other (parents & baby) while I wrestled my monster in the our corner.

Tommy screeched and shouted and babbled while their Tiny Sweetheart slept and her lips twitched.
Tommy wrestled to get down and stomped on my face. Tiny Sweetheart never even strained against the car seat buckle.
Tommy nearly got whiplash from trying to decide weather to play with the light switch behind me or watch the Disney movie on the other wall. Back and forth back and forth SCREEECH!!!! back and forthbackandforth SQUEAL!!!! backandforthbackandforth GIGGLES! He simply wouldn't calm down.

I just can't figure out when that change happened.
I remember the first time I picked him up carefully placing both hands under his arms and around his chest instead of "one hand under bum, one hand under head".
I remember the belly button stump falling off.
I remember when he started standing up.
I remember packing away his newborn clothes.
But I simply can't remember when he went from the "quiet angel baby who is too small to cause any kind of trouble and just sits there looking tiny and peaceful" he used to be to the "ball of energy, noise, and flailing limbs" that he is now.

I wonder if the mom who saw me in the waiting room when Tommy was just 3 days old thought the same things of me.
I wonder if she looked at my teeny tiny child and couldn't figure out when her child turned old.
I wonder if she noticed that I cringed when I sat down and secretly cringed with me.
I wonder if she silently applauded my ability to get dressed and leave the house.
I wonder if she laughed when Josh and I didn't know there was a sick kids side and a well kids side.
I wonder how her nearly 2 year old "baby" is doing today.

After Tommy was weighed and measured we sat down on the floor in the exam room and played with toys. I know I know...unsanitary, unclean, hard, dangerous. Whatever. My child has a maximum number of minutes he can sit on someone's lap per week. And I'm not wasting them in a room by myself when there are toys to be played with on the floor.

Dr. Lady came in and declared him "just the perfect child" and me "a lucky mom" because he's right on track with growth and development (still no crawling....but worm-crawling) and is full of smiles.

Then the mean nurse lady (who is actually very nice) came in and poked my baby until he cried. Which took approximately 2.1 seconds while I held his hands and put my face right next to his so neither of us could see the needle.

As soon as that mean old lady with the sharp things left Tommy was happy I was holding him and even smiled at me as soon as she was in the hall. I have to say, it's nice being the one to rescue him for once instead of being that mean old lady who won't give him food and Josh rescuing him from me.

In all? Not a bad day at the Dr.'s office.

Baby eats meat

We had shish ka bobs over the weekend and Josh couldn't stand to not share with his favorite little man.

My baby had some chicken.

And since he's eating meat now, we shared our eggs the next morning.

My baby eats meat.

He's just so enormous. ENORMOUS.

Also, Junior taught him to get on his hands and knees and cry. From what I've observed that means we're right on the verge of crawling.

Some MORE photos

Remember back in March when we stayed up until 4am playing games with our friends? Well, that next morning, Junior did an impromptu photo shoot and these are the results.

What can I say, the kid loves his toes.

Stella and Thomas think we're soooo funny. 

No wonder we hang out with them.

And They're actually good at sharing.

This one might be my favorite. Love it.

There may or may not be one of Thomas is Stella's rock-star-diamond-studded-hot-pink sunglasses. Poor baby. :D

Lonely again

Remember when I freaked out because Josh was going back to work and I was going to be solely responsible for my child all day every day? All by myself?

And remember back when Josh was in school and I was terribly lonely and didn't know what to do with myself all night every night?

Well let's just combine those two levels of crazy and now you have....me!

Josh is in school again. Which freaks me out.

Right now it's just 1 night a week, but next month it will be 4 nights a week. I can deal with 1 night/week. But 4 makes me wanna cry.

Somehow no matter how bad the day is, knowing that Josh will come home in the evening and rescue me from everything and take care of Thomas until he goes to sleep means I can do it.

I once read a book called A Dance For Three and even the title has never left me. The title comes from a part in the book where Hannah (the main character who is in high school, pregnant, and the father has no interest in being involved) is near the end of her pregnancy and sees a mother and father with their small child. The child goes back and forth between the parents and each parent takes a turn in offering a cracker or holding a hand. She says it was like a dance, perfectly choreographed and she realizes that parenthood is a dance for three. Not a dance for two.

I've said a million times that I have no idea how single parents do it. It blows my mind that it's even possible.

I have it pretty easy, bedtime around here is no big deal. It's even fun. But the thought of doing everything all by myself, from the time Josh leaves for work, until long after Thomas is asleep totally scares me.

I'll even have plenty of time to myself, since Tommy sleeps at 7. But I'm still afraid.

I know it's just shifting my "If I can make it to _ o clock it'll all be OK." time back 2 hours. But it terrifies me.

Thomas is much more sweet than scary. But I'm not sure I can do it.

However, Josh has been in school before and we've both survived. Thomas has been all mine before and we've both survived. There are a lot of people who do a lot harder things, but this is hard for me anyway.

Here's to being lonely again.

7 month photos

Well, rolling is old news now. He's practically a professional.

You can tell by how he gets half of his body rolled but not the other half leaving him in an incredibly uncomfortable twisted state while he screams for me to un-pretzel him with my super-human skills.

But then this morning he rolled over and over and over. Not back and forth and back and forth like he used to (back in the old days....like yesterday). Bottom line? He can get off the blanket I plant him on.

Eh well, at least he's fantastically adorable.

7 Months

Thomas turned 7 months old yesterday. And here's the deal:


He eats. A lot. As much as we'll give him any time day or night. Also he's been holding his own bottle for quite a while, but his latest trick is to refuse to even TOUCH the bottle so I'll stay there and feed him instead of abandoning him in favor of working, changing laundry, and butt-sitting.


He grows. A lot. I'm pretty sure this has been his most productive month growth-wise. Based on my estimates while carrying him in his carseat, I'm gonna say he weighs roughly 100 pounds by now. Also he way too long for any kind of footie jammies, they don't stay over his shoulders. But his feet are still the same size they were when he was born. For real.


He laughs. Mostly at dad, but once a day he'll have a laugh-moment with me.


He plays. With all kinds of cool toys. Like my glasses, my earrings, my hair, my lips, my face, his toes. Also sometimes he plays with actual toys.


He sleeps. A lot. 3 naps every day. 12 hours most nights. I remember thinking that would never EVER happen. It did.


He talks. And by "talks" I mean "screeches". And by "screeches" I mean "creates a sound only dogs can hear". Also he babbles. 


And this morning he rolled back to front for the first time ever. Then he scooched from one end of the blanket to the other grunted the whole way. We're dangerously close to mobile. 


Somehow with all of the photo-taking joy of the weekend, I didn't get out my camera even one time yesterday. So just review "some pictures" here because that's still what he looks like.


Remember back when he was brand new? And floppy and skinny and shriveled?

Now he's old. And stable and chunky and stretched out.

Best 7 months of all time.

Some photos

Gina pointed out that I went EIGHT whole posts with no pictures of that kid who lives here. Granted on MY blog that's only like 24 hours.....but still....

How is that possible?

I'll tell you how. I stare at him all day every day. And sometimes I forget that most of you do not have that distinct pleasure.

So, with no real rhyme or reason....I give you.....That Kid Who Lives Here:

I took this photo as evidence. He has the rubber-band wrist, so the next time Dr. Lady (or anyone else) calls my kid a lightweight, you can bet I'm whipping this sucker out. I'll hear no comments about how MY wrists look identical to those in this photo...

Grandma Egbert went flitting off to Hawaii and brought back this shirt. 

This is his "I'm dancing the dance like the guy on the shirt" pose. Nice eh?

Every day we have laugh-fest. You know how some people's spouses promise they'll make them laugh every day? Well, Thomas and I have about 5 minutes of every day where he busts a gut and I giggle like a school-girl. I think I never knew how to laugh until he came along and taught me. I was an awkward silent-shaker before him.

Then he makes faces at me while he tries to contain his drool (which is clearly impossible) by closing his lips tight enough to bite through them. If he had teeth - which he doesn't.

I call this "good morning baby".

He needs a haircut right? Josh thinks it's stupid that I want to cut his hair,
but lookit the nastiness over his ears. Back me up here?
Also, this is standard camera-face......wait for it, wait for it......

......And he busts into smiles! He never smiles AT the camera.....he's shy. And I think it's adorable.

This is one of my new favorite pictures.

Except for this one. Because how much more chill can you get? 

My baby looks out the window

Every morning I go in and pick up my child from his crib.

He puts one arm around my shoulder and the other around my neck.

Once holding on securely he leans back and cranes his neck around to watch the blind-opener-stick-twister-thing and waits for me to open the blinds while I say "oh my goodness! there's......a........day out there!" (You should know I'm not a morning person. It takes all I have to be this positive this early in the morning.)

He's more beautiful in those 10 seconds every morning than any other time of day.

And with a kid this cute, that's sayin' something.

If you're lucky I'll remember to take a camera in and capture it.

pancakes are better

Josh was craving pancakes this morning.

And being the guilt-ridden incredibly kind-hearted wife that I am, I made them for him.

Thomas was craving whatever was in front of Josh for breakfast. (Is it still a craving if you want it 24/7?)

And being the irresponsible easy-going mother I am, I told Josh to break some up for him.

And he loved them.

He was a very hungry caterpillar baby. He had his regular bottle, berries, rice cereal AND an entire pancake.

I'm relatively certain Josh will be slipping him bite-sized pieces of everything from now until Thomas figures out he doesn't have to wait for Josh to give him food.

Heaven help the grocery budget.

I guess he really is mine

The (alarmingly short) list of "things he gets from me" just grew.

It's been a rough morning; full of vomit, scrubbing carpets, crying, wardrobe changes, extra meals, and refusal to eat. (I'll just let you assume that all of those refer to the child and not me.....these are not the things added to The List.)

During nap attempt number 3 for the day (at the incredibly late hour of 10:30am) I went in to check on my normally delightfully sleepy child to find that the-child-who-will-not-roll had turned himself around in his crib so he was facing the window instead of the wall and had successfully smashed his face up against the crib wall in an apparent attempt to escape.

I picked him up and began to settle into our SCP (Standard Cuddling Position) in the rocking chair but he'd have none of it. With his twisting, squirming, & screaming I didn't stand a chance. As I loosened my death grip on The Child, He turned and arched his back, craned his neck and was immediately still and calm.

I stared in his eyes (which are slowly turning brown from the inside out....eat it mailman) and finally saw what he was looking at. The ginormous snowflakes falling outside the window.

Apparently he loves the snow as much as I do.

So in a slightly modified SCP together we faced the window and watched the flakes float down to the street until they stopped.

One things I love about being a mom

One things I love about being a mom is that sometimes my baby squeals with delight over a fistful of plastic links.

"Look at these toys I found!"

a bit ridiculous

I looked down at my squash-splattered shirt through my splattered glasses and began to wonder - exactly when I did I lose the ability to make it through an entire day in clean clothes?

I used to hang my clothes back up in the closet after wearing them the first time because...well they were pretty darn clean.

I'm now considering turning all laundry hampers into water-tight containers full of my super-special soaking mix because the tiny bucket on top of my dryer is just not big enough to soak all of Tommy's clothes and mine while they wait to be laundered.

I stopped saying "no no no no" to the squash-spewing machine in front of me long enough to realize that meal cleanup used to be simple. You put the dishes you used in the dishwasher.

I now bring a box of wet wipes to all meals (which usually take place on a drop-cloth in the middle of the living room floor) because by the time we're done we have dishes, body parts (legs, arms, hands, toes, AND face - for both of us), chairs, blankets AND toys to wipe down.

And although I wouldn't trade it for the world, I sometimes fantasize about eating an entire meal (maybe even more than one course!) in "dry-clean only" clothes instead of coveralls.

lunch

There's just something I love about him sitting on my lap having his lunch. Even more than I love Subway in a park for lunch.

If the chapel smells like campfire.....

You can just go ahead and blame me.

It's because my neighbors went camping on Friday. The guy was standing at the end of his driveway for like 3 hours while I sat at my computer and worked and coveted his 4-wheeler and his ability to call it "gear" when it all fits in a gallon-sized ziploc bag.

I know he was camping because in addition to the ziploc bag containing his only necessities, he also had a sleeping bag. And a bandanna on his head.

So by noon I had convinced Josh to take us to the mountains to build us a fire and eat hot dogs.

And by noon-oh-two I had convinced the Medina's to join us. And to bring dessert. If I had to pick one person to make my desserts for the rest of my life, it would be Ashley. She always knows what I want AND she makes it.

So we went.

Only now the carseat smells like campfire and I can't live without it long enough to wash it. So we went to church with our campfire baby drenched in febreeze.

Wanna see some pictures of the good time?

Me too. But Thomas is crying, so we'll all have to wait until he's happy before I can even find the camera much less pull pictures off it.

I know. Your life is hard.

Did you know?

Did you know that no piece of square dry paper can be folded in half more than 7 times? I tired it and can't prove it wrong, so I suppose it's right. After all, if anyone can fold a paper in half.....it's GOTTA be me, right?
Wrong. MythBusters did it. (See the video in the comments.) Granted it wasn't a square but they definitely busted the nature of this comment, by folding a football field sized piece of paper in half 11 times. Wow.

Did you know that yesterday I had 6 appointments on my calendar and only managed to make it to 2 of them? Wow. I'm not good at that. On the plus side my little brother moved to a great new apartment! (hooray!)

Did you know that I borrow more books from my mom than the library? That's because she's cooler than the library - plus she lets me keep them longer than 3 weeks.

Did you know that we fed Thomas berries this week? We're still supposed to be introducing foods to him one at a time for 3 days at a time. Somehow "triple berry mix" seemed like 1 food to me until it was already in his mouth...meh. He's fine.

Did you know that my child almost always sleeps with his ankles crossed? I think it might be a leftover "comfort position" from his days in the womb.  Remember back when there was no option but for him to cross his ankles? Yeah....me too.

Did you know that the 5k is this weekend? Then you can stop hearing about it. Won't that be nice?

Did you know that since we've started walking to church we've never been late? I'm telling you, walking to church is the greatest thing that ever happened to us. We talk about the lessons before we get there. We talk about the lessons on the way home. We hold hands, make faces at our baby and come home perfectly exhausted, happy and ready for our afternoon nap. What more do you want on a Sunday huh?