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    7 months

    May 31st, 2011

    Boy, has this been an exciting month. S2 is coming into his personality now, and it’s kind of fun to watch it develop. He is a very verbose young man and can go on for extended periods of time giving you his opinion (or sermon depending on who you ask). He’s not afraid to also deliver the same monologue in an angry tone when he’s pissed off, AND for your added benefit he doesn’t let any object occupying his mouth conclude his line of thinking. Case in point: hungry S2 that decided that the world was coming to an end because he was starving all of a sudden. Even with a boob in his mouth he proceeded to grumble at me.

    He hates clothes going over his head. It’s his pet peeve about getting dressed.

    He loves to nuzzle his loveys.

    He loves to sleep with a lovey covering his face (and freak Ms K out in the process).

    He still lights up when he’s in a good mood and is very affectionate. His snuggles still rock and he is now also happily dispensing kisses… at least to me. He’ll grab at my cheeks (pinch them really), pull me in close and then open his mouth wide against my cheek. I know there’s true love there because he shares his drool. And for those that know me, spit slime is “my favorite” (insert dripping, HA!, sarcasm here).

    He’s still working on sitting: he’s getting better, but not sitting on his own just yet. I have to remind myself that in his adjusted age he’s only 6m1w old, and he has a looong range to go, but this is the only milestone I’m looking forward to. The rest of crawling/walking can wait for as long as G took.

    These past few days, my little chill mellow kid has turned into a fuss-monster. I think this is all on account of teething. I can’t be sure which tooth is trying to make a run for the surface, but based on where he’s chewing, and some translucent sightings, he might be starting off with a canine. Joy! Those sucked for G. Perhaps if we DO start with those, maybe the rest will be easy? I hope.

    Weight: 17lb

    Height: 26.38″

    Favorite activity: Shoving his hands in my food and trying to see what he can swipe before I catch him. He has now successfully managed to misappropriate a s’more. I guess there went the “no sugar until 1” restriction.

    Favorite toy: a tie between the bee and Jacques the peacock

    Sweetest moment: Mama kisses!!!

    Naughtiest moment: blowing raspberry with a mouth full of food. He does this ALL.THE.TIME now. I think I end up wearing a third of what I feed him.

    Important milestones: teething’s on the way, and we have a whole lotta babble

    Movie Monday

    May 29th, 2011

    Baby kisses rock… except for the remarkable amount of slobber they seem to come with.


    Marshmallow Nights

    May 27th, 2011

    Occasionally the 28mph winds in our back-yard quiet down and we get a calm evening perfect for marshmallow roasting. Which is what we did last night ­čÖé S2 slept, and we head-out to the deck for some fire-toasted goodness.

    G enjoyed the stick-holding far more than the treat. Go figure.

    Movie Monday

    May 23rd, 2011

    S2 LOOOOVES him a tasty toe snack before bed-time. As soon as his cloth diaper comes off, and those feet are in range, he’s all for it.


    Of course, not to be out-done, when G heard about his younger brother’s flexible skills, he decided to show us he could (still) do it too. Observe the happy squeals coming from the young dude on my left. I think S2 was egging his older brother on.


    See all the glorious moments I get to document while sitting in between the boys while in the car?

    Reservation for Raccoon, party of 2

    May 23rd, 2011

    This is the continuation of our raccoon saga. At the ending of our last story we had ended with putting down some insecticide in our grass. Well, that did a bit fat nothing. We then moved onto:

    • Moth-balls. Not bad, but not effective enough for them to not work around them, having to keep the kids inside the house, and having to continuously refresh the anti-moth-y smell. Point: Raccoon.
    • Motion sprayers. This was probably the most effective solution, and had we not lived in “tie your child down to a tether lest they blow away from the wind” country, would probably be sufficient. However, the wind would set off the motion sensor, which would go off all evening long, thus draining the battery, thus when the raccoon actually CAME, would do nothing. Sigh. Of course, until the next morning when I would walk out, forget that the sprayers are on, and get nailed by a cold stream of water up my rear (forcing me to have to change pants lest I want to continue explaining to people all morning long that I did NOT pee myself). Apparently there’s always enough juice in the battery to find and get ME. Point: Raccoon.
    • Netting. Yes, our yard now has an attractive orange net that spans from one end of the grass (of a fore-mentioned damage zone) to the other, and also my veggie garden, where the raccoons go for desert. One of my strawberry plants might never recover from being dug up. This has been helpful too. Doesn’t look attractive, but it’s made a huge dent in what the racoons can dig up. Point: Us.
    • Animal control.

    That last one hurts for me to say. But it’s been our last resort. What threw me over the edge of using them is the fact that raccoons can carry a ring-worm that can be fatal to children. So… while the raccoon chasing game is frustrating, this made it unacceptable. Yes, I realize I can’t keep raccoons out of my yard permanently, but an occasional pass-through is OK. A nightly supper club not so much. Especially when there is the possibility they can hang out long enough to spread cooties to my boys. I gotta draw the line here.

    So the animal people came. They setup a trap. The first night we woke up to see the trap over-turned and the food gone. I’m certain the raccoon did it and laughed it’s head off. The second night we had an animal captured. I made the bad mistake of walking out there to see it. It looked so sad and pitiful. It wanted out, and had I not known about the ring-worm, I would’ve let it go. But it was taken away, and the trap kept behind in case there were more.

    I had joked with our baby-sitter the week prior, asking “Wouldn’t it be funny if there were more?” Maybe they had a schedule and Billy comes on Mondays, Sally Wednesdays, and Jo on Thursdays. Well, as it turns out, it’s not so funny when it’s true. ‘Cuz this morning there was a second raccoon in our trap. Arg! Money aside (each pick-up is costing us over $100), I’m a little concerned over what’s happening here. Has our address been written on the stall of a raccoon out-house? Are we ultimately going to escort every raccoon that lives in the canyon out?

    At this stage I just want our grass to take root, I’m putting a fence around my veg and we can call it even. After that I’ll leave them alone.

    So that’s our update. Let’s see how many more come to pay us a visit when this is all said and done. And how much money we’ll be out of.

    PS. For those of you sensitive, please don’t ask animal control what they do with the raccoons once they’re captured. It won’t help you sleep at night :-/

    PPS. I tried to find a “mean raccoon” picture online because I’d like to think of my raccoons as vicious, disease-carrying predators. Otherwise they’re too stinkin’ cute not to make my heart hurt.

    Peas for peace

    May 23rd, 2011

    G: Daddy, daddy what do you want?
    S: World peace. But I’l start with house-hold peace.
    G: We don’t have peas daddy. We have water!

    Pegged him to a Tee!

    May 19th, 2011

    In G’s preschool room there’s a large bulletin boards with all the kids and their favorite sayings. You have kids that rave about their favorite colors, or being proud of their brothers. G’s favorite saying? “No!” That’s my kid alright!


    Movie Monday

    May 15th, 2011

    Spit apparently is funny. Although I’m (personally) leaning toward gross.


    This is also a good reminder for me to NOT have my (new) phone camera turned vertical while recording. Sorry!

    How much for those memories?

    May 14th, 2011

    There’s a big consignment sale happening this week-end. This was an exciting prospect for me as S2 has outgrown the NB, the 0-3 and the 3-6 clothes in his closet (which is a good thing given he’s 6m old).

    Being the rational purger that I am, I’ve been trying to unload unused items on a pretty regular basis. I figured this sale can be a good way for me to clean out s2’s closet, while looking for 3T sized items.

    As a general note, I have to say that prepping items for the sale was a major pain in my rear. You have to tag EVERYTHING, meaning that I spent 3 hours going over each item amongst the 3 bins of outgrown clothes and then enter each into the sale’s tagging system. THEN I spent another 3 hours attaching said tags on my items and then hanging everything.

    I did mention pain in rear, right?

    I labored over deciding how much each item would be worth: what is it worth to me, vs. what is it worth to someone else. My mental price tag included the memories of my sons wearing those clothes: what milestones they met in those items… what monotonous activities they did in those items. Even never-worn items with tags still on had an emotional hold on me. But buyers wouldn’t see that. So all of a sudden the outfit S2 wore for his 3m photos was sporting a $2 tag around it.

    Of course, I pulled out the clothes I couldn’t part with. I “tried” to limit myself to 5 items in each age group and put them in a plastic bin. Yes, I’ll likely never open said plastic bin again, but those few outfits will stay with me. FOR-EVER.

    The whole preparation process was emotional. Dropping off was emotional, but I didn’t realize how much more difficult it would be to be IN the store watching people look over the boys’ clothes and choose them. Yes, this was the intent all along, but watching an older lady pick-out the gray sweat GAP┬á outfit (that had NEVER been worn, btw) made me want to walk over and rip the hanger from her hands. Of course I didn’t, but a part of me wanted to.

    Ugh. This growing up thing is not cool.

    Elocution lessons

    May 11th, 2011

    (while playing our “Name an animal” game)

    S: Gazelle
    G: No. That’s no how you say it.
    S: How do you say it then?
    G: GaZELLE

    Apparently, you need to scream out the second half of Giselle. We all had it wrong. Including Merriam-Webster.