beanski

the fourth of july

It started out as a walk through Leif Erickson park and The Lakewalk to take a few pictures. They were both being good so we decided to tempt fate and walk all the way down to Canal Park so Renee could "throw rocks in the big blue late [lake]" knowing full well we'd be an hour walk away from a car in the case of a melt-down. They were both having such a good time that we got really crazy and had lunch down in Canal Park. It must be documented that it isn't every time that one of them flips out when we try to do anything (just most of the time)!

The Phil and Ted's loaded up and ready to go:

There was almost no wind and the lake was like glass (really rare for Lake Superior).

Then we got to the good stuff. The rocks. My daughter LOVES rocks. You would not believe the level of excitement she gets out of plain old rocks.






Look at those teeth. They KILL ME.
 
 
All and all a great way to spend the 4th of July!

twenty-four months

I've struggled with whether or no to discontinue her monthly posts when she turned two, thinking that maybe I could do without the pressure of getting it done on-time and wondering if there would be anything to write about. And then over the weekend I was thinking about how really she is just getting good and then Ski said something to me along the lines of "you need to make sure you put that in your monthly post" and I decided then and there that I was going to keep doing them. I absolutely love being able to go back and read about what she was up to and it amazes me each time I do how much my mind forgets. It makes me take the time to sit down and reflect on her life, on her childhood and I hope that someday she gets a kick out of reading about herself as a baby and then a toddler and then a pre-schooler (BabyCenter is STILL mocking me, last year with the implication that she turned from baby to toddler over night and this year to pre-schooler).

She is particular about what she likes right now and has nothing to do with her toys at all. She wants to play outside or watch Dora and as far as she's concerned those are the only two choices. She loves slides and to play in the water. She loves her little pool, still likes the water table and LOVES to throw rocks into the lake.

She bolts up the driveway with a look over her shoulder that's just daring me to try catch her. When I speed up to make sure she doesn't get close to the road, she literally squeals with delight.

She doesn't eat much at all, blueberries, watermelon, cantaloupe, broccoli, cheese and once in a while a chicken nugget. She would rather drink her dinner in the form of milk. I'm beginning to think that as long as I send her a gallon of milk a week at college, she should be good to go. That's about all she requires right now.

I think she is pretty scared about the upcoming move. When I ask her if she is excited about her new house and her new room she says "No Mommy, I love THIS house" and then starts crying. I'm crossing my fingers that it only takes her a few days to get adjusted. It is going to be a big change.

She is picking up on words and phrases that she probably shouldn't. The other night the kids were playing what we call One Up, One Down where the second you lay down after putting one of them to sleep, the other wakes up. I was laying next to her after she had JUST fallen asleep and I heard him start screaming. I muttered a word I probably shouldn't have and she kept saying "fuct" over and over like she knew it was a word she shouldn't say. I hate to bite my lip to stop from laughing.

Ski always jokes around when he's going to change her diaper and apparently must occasionally say 'Diaper Up' because the other day he told her to come over so he could change her diaper and she looked at him totally straight-faced and said 'Diaper Up.' We both laughed for hours about that one.

She insists on being carried and directs me around. Today after we got home from work she was throwing her little hissy fit about not wanting to go inside and then when she realized I wasn't going to give in on that, she started demanding milk and Dora. She all as-a-matter-of-factly said "You go that way and then use your other hand to get the milk." I'm not kidding, she said it exactly like that.

She says "No, No" whenever she wants to assert a negative.  Never just No, always "No, No." And she says "YES" very directly with an emphasis on the S. It cracks us both up. She still says "Mow" for more and "No like it" when she gets upset about something. 

My Renee, she's something special. So particular and so loyal and so stinking girly. She looks girly and when she holds her cups, she holds them like you would think a girl would. When she spills she gets upset and demands "clean me up" but is totally fine having her hands and feet caked with dirt while she's playing outside. She doesn't like shoes and will literally run around the neighborhood with no shoes on. Just when I think I have her all figured out, she changes things up on me. Just when I think she's not going to like something, she does and just when I think she has become a Daddy's Girl forever and ever, she snuggles up close to me and cups my face in her hands and says "My Mommy. I love my Mommy." And then she always follows that up with, "And I love Daddy too. And Cammon. And Simon. And Sashy." And that pretty much sums it up, she loves us all and it is impossible to put in to words how much we love her back.
 

 

have resorted to working weekends

Life is crazy. We are moving in TWENTY-FIVE DAYS and have not packed a single thing. We don't even have boxes to pack things in. Where do you go to get boxes? Do I actually have to pay money for something that I am usually paying money to get rid of at the dump? Suck.

The dishwasher FINALLY got fixed after something like twenty days of hand-washing everything (including all of the birthday dishes and no fewer than six bottles, 15 pump parts and eight sippy cups per day) and the car is finally back to running again. To fix these two things we spent a THOUSAND DOLLARS. Which is really awesome considering we're buying a house in TWENTY-FIVE DAYS and we really didn't need that money for anything else.

I worked on a Sunday today, leaving my poor husband at home with both kids for the first time ever. I worked because our daycare is closed for three days this week and we don't really have the vacation time to cover it and still be off of work to be at the closing of our new house. My parents are in Alaska for most of the month and Ski's mom and dad have to work and we don't really know anyone else in the world that could/would take care of our kids. I thought about leaving Dora to babysit, which would totally work with Renee but something tells me He Who Is Pissed Off About Everything Right Now might not be able to handle that. I mean, he really wants to do everything himself but he hasn't quite figured out how to open the fridge and heat up his own milk just yet. And it's not because he doesn't want to do it himself, BELIEVE YOU ME. He just can't and sweet Jesus he is sure pissed off about it.

I'm not complaining about daycare being closed as our daycare provider has taken off like two days in two years and I'm not complaining that I get to spend a few extra days at home with the kids this week. But really, could the timing suck any worse?

The silver lining here is that my girl Gretch is getting married this weekend and Ski's parents are being so kind as to watch the children so that Ski and I can stay overnight in a hotel with NO CHILDREN.

{GASP}

Is it wrong that I'm literally counting the minutes to our big escape? Can you imagine the awesomeness of sleeping through the night and not having to get out of bed at 5AM? I can't imagine it because we haven't done it in TWO YEARS now.

I'm playing catch up with posts this weekend because pictures and posting will be light this month as we try to pack up and move our entire life. I wouldn't want the blog to go neglected so I'm stocking up saved posts to get me through. And I'm sure I'll feel guilty for a minute about not taking any pictures this month because eight month old babies? They are chubby and cute and they have dimples on their knees and elbows and honestly I know I'm going to wake up in our new house in a month and they'll be gone and then I'll totally just die because I missed the chance to photograph them forever and ever.

have him (the chipmunks)

When we decided to go ahead with this whole moving thing and started really thinking about weekends, we quickly realized that most of this summer is going to be sucked in to the enormous, black moving hole. So, over Father's day we headed up north to visit my parents, hoping to get in at least one weekend of lake time and to spend some time on the boat. I figured Renee would love the boat. The reality? She HATED it. She was TERRIFIED, clinging to me with every ounce of strength in her grasp. I was not amused at the time but have since decided the whole spectacle was downright hilarious. My mom, dad and I just sat there staring at her like "Really, are you really doing this" while Ski held the sleeping-before-the-boat-left-the-dock Cameron. We were on the boat for exactly 10 minutes and since then every time she sees a boat out on Lake Superior she says "No like the boat, Mommy. No like it."

Part of the weekend plan was also to take her up to feed the chipmunks at Sha-Sha because every time she sees a chipmunk in our yard, she says "Have him" and I was hoping she'd get a kick out of actually feeding them and seeing them up close. I have to admit, though, after the boat, I was a little afraid that she would flip out about the chipmunks too and our entire weekend would have been wasted trying to show Renee all about the world only to have her lay on the couch and demand another episode of Dora.

She didn't flip. She LOVED the chippies and every time I talk to her about them she says "Go back there. Go feed peanuts to the chippies." Ski and I laughed, riding on a boat in the arms of mom is downright terrifying but it is totally cool if a little four-legged creature runs up your dress and takes peanuts right out of your hand. That's our girl. She likes what she likes and hates what she hates and don't try to change her mind.

We had an awesome weekend in any case, the Rainy Lake weather gods smiled on us and we came home that weekend feeling like we had gotten a break from the giant moving curse.

I have to admit though, I'm really hoping that someday she decides the pontoon boat is an OK way to spend a Saturday afternoon. I mean, I know it can't compete the the chippies and everything but SERIOUSLY.

look whooo's two!

I had so much fun planning Renee's birthday this year. SO MUCH FUN. I enjoyed every minute because I know that next year she'll be demanding a Dora birthday. Or princesses. Or something equally annoying to me. I really sucked at taking pictures and was bummed out about it until I realized that I sat back and watched my girl enjoy herself and I talked to our wonderful friends and family and were here for my little girl. We are so incredibly lucky.

The invite:

The cupcakes that SHHH, I totally bought them and the frosting and then tinted the frosting myself to match the party. See, I'm coming around! :) How cute are the cupcake flags?

I bought her tanktop and headband on etsy...really stinking cute but she would only wear the headband for about SEVEN SECONDS. It was my only hope though, she won't let me put a ponytail or barrettes in her hair EVER. OF COURSE SHE WON'T. I mean, we ARE talking about Renee here.

She had fun though. She liked the attention. It always surprises me that she's super shy around like one or two new people but you get her in a big group and she EATS IT RIGHT UP.


How cute are the owls and the 2's.

The birthday girl's banner. When I picked out these pictures to make this banner I just about died looking at how much she's changed in the last year. SERIOUSLY, in one year. It doesn't even look like the same kid.

The art project, I copied the idea from somewhere but I can't remember where right now. I cut out the first letter of each kid's name and then each of them did a finger painting to show through their letter. I'll link to where I got the idea when I think of it. I bought the frames from Ikea sight unseen and boy, Ikea frames are CHEAP. Like they pretty much suck.

Tissue balls that my mom and I hung everywhere. This idea came from Nicole (via Martha Stewart). My mom didn't make fun of me at all, she just sat there for four or five hours and made tissue balls :) They sure were cute though. If we weren't moving in like 28 days, I would have saved them for next year, they were that cute.

The only decent picture of the birthday girl actually wearing her party dress. SO CUTE.

She got a giant slide for her birthday and she is OBSESSED with it. She says "Mommy go down my slide now" like every 15 seconds. It has been a big hit with the neighbor kids too.

And a new trike with adorable chicky helmet. She also loves this (as long as we push her around in it). She won't pedal herself yet.

Dad, also known as the Trike Pusher. She loves the bell the most and rings it the entire times she rides on it.

She got lots of other really sweet presents but I haven't gotten the time to take a picture of them yet (including the Cozy Coupe car we got her)...she's a lucky (spoiled) little girl!

Happy Birthday, my sweet girl, I hope you liked your party!!!

dear renee

Dear Renee,

Today you officially became a two-year-old. I say officially because you have been acting like one for quite some time. Baby girl, I know you are in a big hurry to grow up and learn about the world and spread your wings but just humor your mother and stay small, will you? Like if you’d stay two forever that would be fine with me.

You have taught me so many things in your two years. You have taught me that time can truly fly by and stand still all at the same time. It seems like maybe about two days ago you were a little five pound alien baby too little to fill out her skin and like just yesterday I was planning your first birthday party. At the same time it feels like I have been struggling to keep up with being your mommy, changing your diapers, cooking you fourteen meals a day, for all of eternity. Like there never was a me before there was a you and in some ways, most ways, I guess that is true.

I will never be the same because you made me a mommy and you taught me that it is OK, in fact in some instances, good, to not be perfect all of the time. Your Rama and Papa spent years trying to teach me that but weren’t able to even scratch the surface. You, my dear? It took you about three days to teach me that it doesn’t matter how hard I try or how bad I want to be the perfect mother, I’m going to screw up (a lot) along the way. You get the curse of being my first born which means that in some ways I use you as my guinea pig to test my parenting theories about what works and what doesn’t. Sometimes they work and you thrive and sometimes they blow up in my face and you just can’t believe what a pathetic excuse for a mom you ended up with. Thank you for being patient with me and for loving me in spite of my imperfections.

Being my first born has its perks though. My complete awe with you, with every single thing that you do, can never be replicated. You will always hold the keys to my heart because when I fell in love you? I fell in love so hard and so fast that I was never again the same person. That transformation, from not being a mom to being one is so incredible that I can’t imagine I can ever explain it you properly until you become a mom yourself. And I hope on that day, or surely by the time your own first baby turns two, we can sit down and drink a glass of wine together and talk about how insane it is.

Complete strangers stop me on the street to tell about how cute your outfit is or how they just adore the way I styled your curly hair and what I don't tell them is that isn't the clothes or the way I combed your hair, it is you. It is the way you walk, the way you talk, how you stick your little belly out just so. You are too cute for you own good, kid. Your dad and I really outdid ourselves when we made you.

You are the funniest little person I have yet had the pleasure of knowing, so full of curiosity and determination that it pretty much exudes from your being. You know precisely what you want when you want it and if your dad and I don’t comply immediately, you pretty much lose your mind. Your spirit and your zest for living and learning make me want to be a better person. I can almost see you all dressed up ready for your first day of school, excited and wanting to do a good job but just the slightest bit shy and scared at the same time. Because that is totally you. If you asked me one day I might say you are shy and timid but you ask the next and I’ll tell you that you are outgoing and full of energy.

You’re the perfect balance of it all, Renee, and don’t you ever let anyone tell you otherwise.

Love,
Mommy

too much at once

First of all, my baby girl turns two tomorrow at 2:24AM. Seriously, WHAT? TWO YEARS OLD (sob, sob).

We had a birthday bash for her this weekend and I didn't get hardly any good pictures of her. If you were there and took pictures, like when everyone was singing Happy Birthday to her, would you send them to me? PLEASE. I CRIED last night when I went through the pictures I have. I FAILED. I forgot the video camera too...for the SECOND YEAR in a row. Renee will have no video of her first or second birthdays because her mom forgot. I'm blaming her dad because he didn't remember either.

WHY DO I HAVE TO REMEMBER EVERYTHING?

She sure was cute though. And she LOVED her presents. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

That little girl SLAYS me.

In between singing Happy Birthday and eating cake and ice cream, WE BOUGHT A HOUSE. A much bigger house and I feel like we sort of bought it on a whim. It isn't the house we put on house on the market for but a totally different house. I am sure to regret this, right? This is what happens when you sell your house the first day it's on the market for asking price with the caveat that you have to be out FAST and that you have to find something TODAY. Again, I'm sure to regret this, right? It isn't ours yet but if the inspections go well this week and none of the financing falls through and I don't LOSE MY MIND and decide that I JUST CAN'T DO IT, we'll be moving on July 31st. Which is Harry Potter's birthday. I'm just saying.

Our dishwasher is STILL broken and we are STILL waiting on the FIVE HUNDRED DOLLAR part. Seriously, FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS to fix the dishwasher that is apparently constructed solely of solid gold. You would think, right? I love paying five hundred dollars to fix a dishwasher in a house that we just sold.

To top it all off, the car didn't start this morning. I mean, REALLY. As though we needed that too. We just looked at each other like "WTF is next?" We didn't even talk. We are just PRETENDING IT ISN'T HAPPENING.

My brain isn't totally functioning but I still had to make the decision today to turn down a job offer. I decided I might just die if I change jobs because I just can't handle any more stress. I'm sure to regret this in a few months when my current job gets cut or when I'm bored out of my mind. But honestly? TOO MUCH CHANGE AT ONCE, PEOPLE. CAN'T HANDLE ANY MORE CHANGE.

Also, I just want to throw it out there that my son still wakes up every two hours. He's almost EIGHT months old and he was up about seven hundred times last night. SHOOT ME, JUST SHOOT ME. PLEASE.

All of this crap aside, I'm excited. I'm excited to have a new place to make into our home. A new house to decorate. I'm excited to have my own sink to brush my teeth in before bed. I'm excited to watch the kids run around the much bigger backyard. I'm excited to meet the neighbors and I really hope they don't suck. I'm excited to not have to share a driveway. I'm excited to take a shower without baby toys all around my feet. I'm excited to not have to haul my groceries (and children) up an entire flight of stairs when we get home. I'm really excited about the main floor laundry. I'm excited to have somewhere for our families to sleep when they come to visit.

Most of all, I'm excited to have a place to put the new toys that the (very lucky) birthday girl got for her birthday.

I'm sure I'll be posting at least a million pictures of our current house, you know, TO REMEMBER, but this what our new house looks like. I mean, as long as everything goes as planned. Which I'm sure it won't. So really, this is the house we were planning to buy before the universe decided that it hates me and screws things up AGAIN.

good golly miss molly

I'M FREAKING OUT HERE. FREAKING THE FRICK OUT.

My husband is apparently too busy working to talk to me about the fact that someone just made an offer to buy our house and they want us out by July 24. Yes, ONE BLESSED MONTH to move my entire life to some house out there on the MLS that we haven't even made an offer on. We were testing the market, people. Not planning on moving in ONE MONTH. The average house takes four months to sell. Ours? ONE FRICKING DAY. I have two children under two, do you realize what this might entail?

Padded rooms and straight-jackets. Lock me up and throw away the key. I need drugs, lots and lots of drugs. Drugs that make it so that I don't think about anything. Or feel anything.

I'm doing the only thing I can do. I'm talking to the Internet. I'm complaining and at the same time, I'm FREAKING OUT.

Renee's birthday party is in TWO DAYS. My parents are coming to visit tonight and staying until Sunday. I have fricking birthday banners to make and tissue balls to construct. Doesn't this lady know that THIS IS A BAD WEEK FOR ME. I'm BUSY. I'm busy thinking about my baby girl and how she's TWO FRICKING YEARS OLD. I need to wallow in that. Doesn't this lady know that? IT'S WHAT I DO.

The icing on the cake is my whole job situation where I'm trying to make a REALLY big decision about my, dare I say it, career and I have to make this decision by MONDAY. Yes, THIS MONDAY. As in, two days after my baby girl turns two and three days after we make a huge decision about where we call home.

Internet, will you be offended if I use the f bomb? Because HOLY FUCK I'm FREAKING OUT.

And my husband? He's unavailable. Un-freaking-available. He's busy working.

When I started this post, the first thing that came to my head was Good Golly Miss Molly. I don't think I have EVER used that phrase before. I'm going to be THIRTY years old in a few months and I've never used that phrase and Good Golly Miss Molly is all I can come up with to say today. This is a very thin thread I'm clutching here. VERY THIN.

I better go and call my mom. Maybe she's available to talk to me and not busy working.

HOLY SHIT, I can't believe this is happening.

i'm counting on my mind to remember

Our house hit the market today. After I told our Realtor to go for it, I went into the bathroom and threw up. I sat there alone and cried, reliving every minute of our lives in this house, in our home.

I flashed back to the night Ski proposed to me in our living room. I can still see the very shy, nervous and excited look on his face. I can still feel the wetness of our combined tears on my cheek as we hugged and promised forever.

When I close my eyes I can picture myself sitting in the bathroom during the exact moment the pregnancy test announced Renee's up and coming arrival, only to follow-up that exact same moment seventeen months later notifying us of Cameron.

When I open my watering eyes, I struggle to focus on the the alarm clock reading 3:13AM and I can feel my feet on the cold hardwood floors as I stumble in to the baby's room for that middle of the night feeding.

This house, it smells like us. It smells like home.

I can see both of my children, my babies, in the Exersaucer screeching and talking to me while I cook dinner in my tiny little kitchen.

I can see her first steps, his first bath, their first kiss. I can hear his tiny little newborn moaning and grunting and I can remember the exact instant she called me MOM for the first time.

I can feel my heart skip a beat watching my husband carrying our babies around in the Daddy Chair to look at the dragonfly light in the dining room.

I can feel her snuggled in close to me on her big felted wool rug, our heads propped up on the big floor pillows I sewed for her in the dining room, reading books and talking about our day during those rare one-on-one mother and daughter moments.

I can hear the persistent creek of the fourth stair from the bottom and the way Cameron's door clicks every time the cat wanders in to check on him.

I can remember each walk up and down our street, friendly hellos from our neighbors and I can remember where the crevices are in the driveway that hit the shovel, making it hard to get rid of the massive amounts of snow.

I can see where each of the perennials are, the plants that my sister planted from seed and brought for me to put in my garden and I will never forget how much I love how the back garden looks through the kitchen window in the springtime when the Hostas are just beginning their spreading.

My biggest fear is that us leaving will erase these memories and they will no longer be so vivid in my mind, that time passing will take them away from me. I fear that I will always look back on this house as home because of the history we made here, and that I'll never be as happy as I have been during these last five years. I fear that I'll regret ever allowing someone else to call it home because it is our home and it is impossible for me to imagine my family anywhere else.

seven months

The boy turned seven months old on Saturday and guess what? His mom was too busy watching the Pittsburgh Penguins WIN the Stanley Cup to be bothered with putting together his seven month post. His dad is calling him the Pittsburgh Good Luck Charm. He was born and his teams win. He's seen two championships already in his short little life here on earth, first the Steelers winning the Superbowl and then the Penguins winning the Cup. It's a good thing I married someone with a connection to teams that know how to win because Cameron could be seventy years old before the Vikings or the Wild ever win anything.

I was also busy nursing my sore muscles from painting and hauling and organizing because for some reason his parents decided that now would be a good time to think that tackling something as stressful and difficult as a move would be a good idea. Then he flipped out and spent all weekend moaning and crying and not sleeping and we came to our senses and realized that it probably is a terrible idea. Cam was getting better at sleeping for a week or two, waking up once to chug a bottle at record speed and then going directly back to sleep. I was so happy and then we threw his routine over the weekend and now he's back to flipping the frick out all fricking night long. SHOOT ME. Cameron seriously, are you trying to kill me?

Feeding him is a exercise in patience as he spends pretty much the entire time taking one sip from the bottle and then sitting up to make sure he isn't missing anything that Renee is doing. The constant sitting up and laying back down causes his belly to get upset and then he gets mad at me like I was asking him to be a pain in the ass and refuse to sit still and eat. One bottle out of ten though, he snuggles in and puts his hands over his eyes and eats contently, peeking out at me occasionally like I am the greatest thing to ever happen to him. And during that one bottle of ten I can't imagine ever loving him more. He's still getting pumped breast milk, sometimes with a few ounces of formula mixed in but his belly issues don't seem to be getting any better so I haven't weaned him completely. I expect to be extracting milk for him when he's seven because he just can't seem to eat anything else. Fun times.

Cameron has the greatest laugh on planet earth, when I think of him as a baby I will remember two things: His absolutely infectious laugh and the sheer number of sleepless nights that he put me through. It doesn't matter how crabby we both are, all I have to do his tickle his little belly or kiss his neck and he laughs from the bottom of his soul. Seeing him laugh makes me laugh and we always feel better after that.

His sister is the single greatest thing to ever happen to him and I am constantly leveraging his obsession with her to my advantage. When he's crabby I just ask Renee to come over and give her brother a kiss and I'll be damned if he doesn't laugh right in the middle of moaning and crying. Every. Single. Time. He can have tears streaming down his face and laugh at the same time all because of her.

He desperately wants to move and is not content really anywhere except in his stroller or his car seat. When I hold him, he dives for the floor so I put him on the floor and then he gets pissed off because he's on the floor. Son, please, please, PLEASE figure out how to crawl so I don't have to listen to the frustrated whining for another day. Wait a second, did I just say that? I'm not sure if I should be wishing for that, probably not. :) He scoots around the floor already, from one end of the living room to the other, tormenting his sister by taking her toys. This look pretty much sums up this month for him. He's getting dangerously close, though.



He's obsessed with straps, especially the straps on his car seat and his stroller. He frantically starts looking for his strap the second I put him in his car seat and I often think that strangers probably find it weird that I'm saying things like "Hang on buddy, I'm going to get your strap in just a second." He'll sit and look at those straps for hours on end, putting them in his mouth and taking them out and manipulating them. Fascinating stuff.

He got his first tooth this month and fussed a bit for a couple of days about it and then went back to normal. I love (and hate) how it changed his smile.

He can sit up for the most part and holds himself up there for five or ten minutes before he decides that he's had enough being stationary and rolls to the ground. Then he goes back to being pissed off that he can't crawl.

He takes about 5-6 bites of solid foods before he starts flipping out, demanding to be removed from the confines of his high chair. He gags and pukes if I give him anything with the slightest texture. The only exception to this rule is if I give him one of those little biter biscuits. Those puppies can buy me 15 minutes to eat my dinner every single time. I don't even care about the mess. He apparently likes carbs as opposed to fruits and vegetables and given his history with eating in general, I'm not all that surprised.

He's a good boy and growing so fast that there are many days that I look at him and can't believe how fast the time has gone. I can't believe that seven months ago he came out of my body weighing less than eight pounds and now he's my little Chunky Monkey that weighs almost twenty. I need to get a picture of his belly, the rolls are downright edible and I am physically incapable of not smiling when I change his clothes. He's a mommy's boy, my big boy, the keeper of my heart and I can't imagine another day without him in it.

Sorry these pictures sort of suck, we've been so busy with the thinking of moving and the hockey and the not sleeping that I didn't have many to choose from and then I edited the ones I had and hated how they turned out and then I decided I was too lazy to redo them. Next month I'll be better :(