Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The Baby Boo-Hoo

*** I just found this post, written back in May. Not sure why I never posted it, but here it is. Keep your eyes out, it will be followed up soon with How Big Boy Undies Have Ruined My World.***


I have written on this topic before, but that's ok. You probably don't remember, as this blog claims to be neither eloquent, nor memorable. (And for obvious reason given the number of posts that involve my children's defecation.) Here it goes again though...


The Baby Days Are Over Blues.


I knew it was coming. Alden is already 2 ½. He has never, not even once attempted to crawl out of his crib, but I knew the day was coming when...


The Crib would have to come down. NO! Say it ain't so! We don't have another one to use it soon? This is it? It makes this whole, "No more babies" thing seem very, very real. (um, I think to Micah it is no matter the state of crib assembly in our home. He had accepted the no more babies reality long ago.) I still needed some prepping up. Ok, not really... I was avoiding. Lincoln has been asking for months for his own room. We kept telling him, "When Alden gets into a big boy bed". Finally he cornered Micah for a date, and he actually gave him one. The end of April, he promised.

"WHAT?!?!?" said crazy weepy mom. "But, but, but, Alden is too little. He has not even tried to climb out yet. We should leave him in as long as we can. He is too little. You are supposed to wait until they try to climb out. He's so tiny. Teeny. Itsy Bitsy. Have I mentioned how little he is?" Micah was not swayed. I firmly believe that every child should nearly break a limb by attempting to climb out of their crib. That, my friends is when you know, ok... time to move them to a bed. I dreaded it... I got a couple delays. The Africa trip helped some. Until...


I call Micah on the day I ran a 5k with my friend Kerry. Yeah, that is a whole other story. We ran the 5k, then went to Starbucks. I know, that is awesome exercise irony. Anyhoo... on the way home, I call Micah and he proudly proclaims, "Well, the crib is down!"


"WHAT?!?!" I yelped. "Tell me you are kidding? Are you serious? I wanted to take pictures of his last night in his crib! I had a whole crying, weepy, sad evening planned out. Tell me you are joking! I wanted photos. I wanted to scrapbook the agony of it all!"


Micah paused. I would like to say it was because he was shocked by my reaction. But... we've been married a while. I don't think he was. I think he was groping to find words to explain why this was not the life altering situation I was making it sound like. Before he could sweep in with his crazy "logic" and all that, I shot the final bullet in my gun of emotion... "How could you do this, the day BEFORE mother's day???"

After he laughed, he said, "It's still in the garage. You can take a picture of it in there."


What a blow to my emotionaloverreactionitis.


It was true. I got home, Alden was ready to take his first nap in his stupid, cute, "Big Boy Bed." Blech. I did what any good crying mom would do. I took him up, camera in hand, and snapped these pictures. Then I cried. How could this day already be here? Didn't I just give birth to this baby? He is it, the last one. And now this stupid bed makes it all seem so final.
No.More.Babies.
Sigh... I felt like a good book was over, and I wanted just one more chapter. Alas, there are books of scrapbook layouts to read now, and this chapter is closed...



So little mamas of crib babies, take that extra minute tonight, and watch them sleep in that blissful little baby cage...

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Feel the Love...

When I wrote the title of this blog post, I had just left the dinner table, where, once again, Hadji had us laughing so hard we were almost in tears. I don't think this kid knows how funny he is. I try and write down some of the things he says, but have been slack the last couple months. After yesterday and today, I am going to be sure and start jotting these gems down again. Micah calls him our little Brian Reagan. Let me share the latest from the mouth of Hadji...


We pack the boys' bikes and Alden's scooter into the back of that tiny excuse of an SUV called a Suburban. (sorry, but once you've gone Excursion, everything seems tiny. teeny. itsy bitsy. ) We went up to the school so the kiddos could ride their hearts out, and Alden could hit the playground. Lincoln and Hadji were racing around and around the track. (Lincoln always winning) We lost count of how many times. I can safely say it was miles. How do I know? It was long enough for Micah and I to have a typical Jude-tear filled-heart to heart. Poor Micah. we have these often as situations arise that merit my freaking out. Again, poor Micah.

Eh, as usual, I digress. Miles they went.


Next thing we know Lincoln has gotten all confident on his bike, to the point that he attempts to high five us as he drives by. This sounds good, only... Lincoln hit the sandy dirt just right, and next thing you know he is splayed out in a jumble of bike parts, cut knees, and blood. He is crying a little, which means it hurts, because he rarely cries. Micah and I go running over, trying to help untangle him from the handlebars when Hadji cruises by and yells...

"Thanks for the head start kid."

we all stood there for a minute with our mouths agape, and then burst out laughing.









This kid is a mess. A funny mess though. Tonight at dinner I asked him and Lincoln to give Alden a couple of their chips. Lincoln hands over a couple, and Hadji picks up one, breaks it into three pieces and proclaims, "There is three from me Alden." Seriously? We laughed, which lead to us laughing again about the "Thanks for the head start Kid" line, and then Hadji proclaims,

"Let's have a family fart."
Only at the casa de fingerprint does dinner end with that line...