tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-222562062024-03-13T10:41:30.383-06:00Letters to Jack & AudreyThese are letters to Jack, my son, and my daughter, Audrey. You have given me the gift of motherhood. This is just a little gift back. I want to share my experiences with you of your childhood from my perspective of watching you grow - of being your Mom.Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.comBlogger430125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-10944183265978995352013-03-26T12:24:00.002-06:002013-03-26T12:55:11.924-06:00Birthday Present<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlDfnaMxrc8/UVHpPAMLT4I/AAAAAAAAKyg/Tcq5-rjWwPk/s1600/JACK+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlDfnaMxrc8/UVHpPAMLT4I/AAAAAAAAKyg/Tcq5-rjWwPk/s320/JACK+001.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iAPq22UFnNY/UVHpb-uMzMI/AAAAAAAAKyo/n-giflf8uW4/s1600/JACK+006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iAPq22UFnNY/UVHpb-uMzMI/AAAAAAAAKyo/n-giflf8uW4/s320/JACK+006.JPG" width="213" /></a>Jack,<br />
<br />
Your 8th birthday dawned with you vomitting. You were sick the night before but hopeful that you would feel better on your birthday. You were so excited to go to school and bring in your cupcakes but as you opened your Lego gift that morning from us, you vomitted all over the place. If we had taken a picture at that moment, it would have been worth a thousand words about this birthday for you.<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-My-X1lAfvmk/UVHq6wt07OI/AAAAAAAAKzQ/dm4FDkWMG8w/s1600/JACK+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-My-X1lAfvmk/UVHq6wt07OI/AAAAAAAAKzQ/dm4FDkWMG8w/s320/JACK+012.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ehCZyKZr8b8/UVHpkCb83kI/AAAAAAAAKyw/-UeUheJVNQ8/s1600/JACK+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ehCZyKZr8b8/UVHpkCb83kI/AAAAAAAAKyw/-UeUheJVNQ8/s320/JACK+002.JPG" width="213" /></a>Our fingers were crossed since we had your whole class, cousins, boy scouts, and neighborhood friends invited to a jumping party at Sky Zone the next day and it was too late to cancel. By evening, I had reason to feel hopeful. You seemed greatly improved. You were even able to eat and keep it down.<br />
<br />
Your Sky Zone party happened as planned and it was wonderful. You had so much fun with your friends and cousins.<br />
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That night, though, I came down with the illness and within a half hour, Audrey was vomitting with me. We were a sick pair that night. We had to cancel the family party for your birthday the next day which we had already prepared for. To your credit, you were a trooper. You didn't complain that your party was cancelled, you just said you hoped we got better really soon. Daddy took you to a movie while Audrey and I recuperated and the next night, Daddy was sick.<br />
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Hopefully your 9th birthday is a much healthier one! I think we just got this out of the way and you'll never have another birthday like that again.<br />
<br />
And you have glasses now! One of your eyes has weaker vision than the other so the glasses you have now help correct that. You really seem to like them and are very good about keeping them on. I think you are adorable in them.<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k_7AScN1ElY/UVHt5rq8YuI/AAAAAAAAKzw/J_otuN8dFTc/s1600/JACK+025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-k_7AScN1ElY/UVHt5rq8YuI/AAAAAAAAKzw/J_otuN8dFTc/s320/JACK+025.JPG" width="213" /></a><br />
Audrey,<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-32T8flf5Vyw/UVHuRYEW6HI/AAAAAAAAKz4/SK5BO5-pDLo/s1600/JACK+028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-32T8flf5Vyw/UVHuRYEW6HI/AAAAAAAAKz4/SK5BO5-pDLo/s320/JACK+028.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZGgbEQYXo4/UVHp_5Q4_qI/AAAAAAAAKy4/hZB4ig5TVic/s1600/JACK+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QZGgbEQYXo4/UVHp_5Q4_qI/AAAAAAAAKy4/hZB4ig5TVic/s320/JACK+010.JPG" width="213" /></a>You continue to have training difficulty. I blame myself for saying out loud that it's easier to train girls than boys. Getting you to sit on the toilet or change yourself after an accident frequently results in the majority of your toys being placed on top of the refrigerator before you comply. I think this phenomenon is becoming a sign to your Dad when he comes home of the kind of day we had. If there are a ton of toys on top of the refrigerator, I have noticed he comes over and asks me how I'm doing. If there aren't, he greets you guys and starts playing with you.<br />
<br />
You also have become best friends with our old dogs. You love to give them treats and talk sweetly into their faces. They are very happy for the attention and will let you put blankets on their backs to keep them warm. I don't even think twice about it now when Audrey walks by with a pink Teddy bear blanket draped across her back. You will also stick toys into boxes and bring them to the dogs and show them what is inside and then look in their eyes to make sure they are happy with the present that you gave them. So cute. <br />
<br />
The dogs like it best when you open a bag of treats and give them every treat in the bag before I realize you have done so. They are already fat - and like a thousand years old. I think they will be fine.<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
<br />
Mommy<br />
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Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-26621503015564167382013-03-11T11:09:00.001-06:002013-03-11T11:15:27.645-06:00Picking back up...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X2ilfGB0DrA/UT4PtJBWXkI/AAAAAAAAKyE/TdNGRjUEHUc/s1600/11-23-12+Thanksgiving+and+11-30-12+Zoo+055.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X2ilfGB0DrA/UT4PtJBWXkI/AAAAAAAAKyE/TdNGRjUEHUc/s320/11-23-12+Thanksgiving+and+11-30-12+Zoo+055.JPG" /></a>
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<br />
I have a tremendous amount of guilt that I haven't been submitting entries. I know one of these days as the kids get older, Audrey will wonder where her stories are of her as a little and I am pushing myself to be better in this regard.
As much as I may say to myself "I won't forget THAT" when Aud or Jack says something, I known that won't be the case. Heck, I have to schedule when the trash pickup is because I won't remember. That doesn't bode well for my long term memory skills.
Anyway, knowing this about myself, I need to push myself to get better about recording the stories that I never want to forget so here I am.
<br />
<br />
We are having some issues with potty training, Aud. Since I lost my job back in September, you have gone from being potty trained with only the occassional blunder to wetting yourself all the time. I hardly know what to do. Sometimes I think I should put you back in pull-ups and wait till you are ready and other times I think I should keep making you change yourself every time hoping you get so tired of it that you start using the potty again.
I've tried both of these, but neither is working.
<br />
<br />
So, in this recent scenario, I saw you walk out of the room to the great room and followed you. You were hiding behind a chair and squatting. I said "Audrey! Are you going potty?"
<br />
You were adamant denying "No! No! I'm not going potty, I'm not!"
<br />
The wet spot on your pants proved that you definitely were. <br />
I pointed it out and said "Oh, yeah? If you weren't going potty, then what were you doing?"
<br />
You were clearly upset about being caught and cornered in this way and you said with the most stubborn look on your face "I was pooping on your stupid face!"
<br />
<br />
I was so surprised by this response that I had to leave immediately because it was shocking laughter out of me. I couldn't let you see me smile about what you had just said since it was so inappropriate. You were immediately sure that I had walked away in anger and began to panic shouting "I'm sorry, Mommy! Come here!!", but I had to have a minute to compose myself before I could come back again.
<br />
<br />
You can be so sweet, but lately you have this stubborn streak and I never know what is going to come out of your mouth when you get really upset.
On the cute side, though, you have also been developing your own sense of music and what you like. You are very much in love with the song "It's Not about the Money" and you have taken to singing it in public while riding in a shopping cart at the store, at the top of your lungs. You get a lot of smiles and laughs and I find myself walking with an embarrassed hand over my face as I try to concentrate on what it is we were here to get again....
<br />
<br />
Jack - your energy is still in the stratosphere. Since we moved, you have developed many friendships and I love seeing you play with your buddies. Your self esteem has improved drastically since you've developed these peer relationships. Funny how having friends that think poop and butt jokes are funny can make you feel better about yourself, but it's worked magic.
<br />
<br />
You are in love with computer games. You want to play them all the time and it's about the only thing you want for your birthday.
<br />
<br />
Speaking of birthdays - you are turning 8 on Friday! How is that possible?
<br />
<br />
You keep losing your baby teeth and you've lost so many at this point that we've begun to joke with you that we are going to have to feed you through a straw if they don't come back in soon. You look so funny with the huge gaps in your smile and that cute little dimple when you are being silly.
<br />
<br />
I'm one lucky mom!
<br />
<br />
Love,
<br />
MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-78185673793979681722012-05-05T17:32:00.001-06:002012-05-05T17:32:29.368-06:00Sing Sweet NightengaleJack,
You would eat simply lemonade, popcorn and popsicles if you were in charge. You love to bug your sister and anytime she says anything, she is wrong. It's that simple.
You are still scared to go to the bathroom on your own. You have a fantastic imagination that soaks up all stories of interest and excitement and while I'm sure this makes everyday life exciting, it's also a little scary that way. You still believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy as you should so magic is a believable part of life for you still. Unfortunately you have a friend that tells you that ghosts are real and zombies, too. He tells you that he found an arm in the street one day and that he once sneezed so loud, he broke the windows in his house. Wonderful....
Butts are hilarious sources of humor for you. Farts - just awesome. Anything that your body does that is remotely embarrassing is totally funny to you right now.
Audrey,
You are in love with princesses. This developed recently in the last few months. Before that you loved ponies, strawberry shortcake and Dora - now it's all about the princesses.
We took you and Jack to Disneyland in CA this past year and I indulged and got you a princess makeover. That was it. You were gone. You are absolutely in love with princess now, are determined that you will be one and sing and dance with the clumsy grace of a toddler emulating a movie princess. I love when you sing the princess songs because you don't understand what they are saying and thus the songs are improved by your attempts.
As a family, we have been enjoying watching America's Funniest Video. Jack believes that we can win the show and make the best video ever. We are still attempting that, but haven't succeeded yet.
We are about to move, too. Our little two bedroom home that has been home to the four of us, two dogs, many hamsters and gerbils, hermit crabs and up to 5 cats, is now to little for all of us. Simbling rivalry has reared it's ugly head and you and Audrey are frequently at odds with each other over any little thing. A little space for you two to grow will be a good thing.
I have switched jobs as we ready for the move and my new job is within a mile or two of our new home. I'm excited to be there in about a month or so.
Life continues to be good and so very packed with life, that it's hard to stop and record the moments here as I've done in the past, but I've kept up with pictures and videos so as time progresses, I hope to have plenty of wonderful memories collected for you so you can remember with us what a joy it is to be in this family.
Love,
MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-11458422382351433512011-03-02T15:31:00.002-06:002011-03-02T15:44:53.506-06:00The Parent Teacher ConferenceJack,<br /><br />So my story about the Parent Teacher Conference this evening begins yesterday. I picked you up from school and we were in the van driving to get your sister. I asked as I do every day how your day at school was and you gave your normal response that it was fine.<br /><br />Things were going as normal - you were sitting in your seat looking out at the traffic and I was thinking of what dinner would be when you seemed to be wondering out loud about something.<br /><br />"Mommy - it's not good when someone asks you to do something that gets you in trouble."<br /><br />WARNING - WARNING - RED LIGHTS FLASHING - THIS IS NOT A TEST... Sorry - that's just what happened in my brain when you said that.<br /><br />"Why do you say that, Jack? Did something happen?"<br /><br />"yes."<br /><br />"What happened?"<br /><br />"Sebastian told me to draw a bad picture."<br /><br />(sigh)....<br /><br />"What was it a bad picture of?"<br /><br />(whispering to me): "a penis"<br /><br />"I see. What happened when you drew it?"<br /><br />"My teacher got mad at me."<br /><br />"I'm sure she did. Did you tell her what happened?"<br /><br />"Yes."<br /><br />"Did she talk to Sebastian?"<br /><br />"Yes. He got in trouble too."<br /><br />"Where is this picture?"<br /><br />"She said she was going to keep it till after conference."<br /><br />GROOOOOOOOOOOOOAN!!!!!<br /><br />So.... this Parent Teacher conference is happening this evening. As it currently is - I know that I'm going into this meeting with my child's teacher knowing that my sons artist reference of a penis will have to be discussed. I feel like the thoughts in my head are completely schitzophrenic in nature....<br /><br />On one hand - THIS IS FUNNY, RIGHT?!?!? I mean - come on. We all have done something like this. It's funny!<br /><br />On the other hand - why is my almost 6 year old drawing penises at school? Isn't he too young for this? Or is it because I'll always consider him a baby that this seems so totally wrong?<br /><br />And a little part of me turns defensive. What - do we live in such a Puritanical society that we can't admit that kids are going to be curious about sex and their bodies? Isn't this completely natural? I don't want my child to grow up thinking that penis is a bad word or that there is any type of negative connotation associated with having one. I wouldn't want him to be ashamed or anything like that.<br /><br />But mostly, it's just funny.... right?<br /><br />I'm sure I'll post tomorrow on how this really turned out and maybe I'll have to post a picture of the artwork. Maybe... :)<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-2055409445367160862010-11-02T13:24:00.000-06:002010-11-04T13:26:00.396-06:00Happy Ween!<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pn1mwCF-wBU?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Pn1mwCF-wBU?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-35829755641738881042010-08-31T11:53:00.003-06:002010-08-31T14:26:00.061-06:00Trust and HonestyJack,<br /><br />I want for you what all parents want for their children - to be happy. That is definitely true, but I also want you to be content, satisfied, loved and loving. It’s so important to me – the type of person you grow up to be.<br /><br />Last night, you were brushing your teeth and you just started talking to me. I don’t remember how the conversation started but soon you were telling me about your classroom and how there is a time out chair and I asked you if you have ever had to sit in the time out chair. You were honest – you said that “yes” you had to sit in the time out chair before but you didn’t want to tell me why.<br /><br />I told you that it was okay for you to tell me – that we could talk about it – but you weren’t convinced. You told me that you didn’t want to because it was too bad. You stalled by taking lots of drinks of water and finally, you relented and told me that you had been playing a game with a friend of yours when two other children came to join the game and that you had hit them.<br /><br />I nodded as I listened and was careful not to launch into a lecture. I could tell by your reluctance to talk about it that you were only too aware of how inappropriate this behavior was.<br /><br />I asked you instead – what did you learn from that experience. You seemed to think about it and then you said to not do that anymore.<br /><br />You mentioned then about how there is a worse punishment but that you hadn’t had to do it – which is go to see the principal. I said that was good.<br /><br />There was something very sweet about the timid confession of misbehavior last night. I felt like a confidant and I was so proud of you. I could see regardless of what had happened at that time, that you knew right from wrong in this situation and that next time, I suspected things would come out differently.<br /><br />We snuggled last night until you fell asleep and the next day, I got the warmest hug from you when I dropped you off for school. A friend came over – you introduced her as Delaney. You asked her if she wanted to play Mr. Fox and I saw her face light up and she said YES! And then you both went to get your backpacks and lined up to walk down the hallway to the playground.<br /><br />I stood in the hallway and watched as you proceeded down the hall. I found it hard to walk away and I feel drawn to you even now. A special little closeness that I feel because you trusted me to tell me something I wouldn’t have known – you took a chance - and I will not let you down. We will figure out these challenges together as long as you will let me.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-6786869950071422662010-08-24T13:38:00.005-06:002010-08-31T10:26:31.290-06:00KindergartenJack,<br /><br />This past week marked your rite of passage into Kindergarten. Your first week. It was much anticipated and you weren't nervous at all. I would say the opposite - you were VERY eager for this new phase of life. I could tell you were excited to take on a new challenge. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511607721120527698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0qBUawdVI/AAAAAAAAKvs/Qi0OMxlKu0g/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+1.jpg" />Sunday before your first day of school, I made your lunch and put it all neatly into your lunchbox and packed your AM snack in your backpack. As I went through this routine for the first time - I couldn't believe how choked up I felt. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511607731918625474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0qB8pOWsI/AAAAAAAAKv0/HQLlslTe9MY/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+2.jpg" />I knew that in your backpack was cash to be loaded onto your lunch account and I know there are days you will eat the lunch I pack and other days when you will buy and that is just amazing to me. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511607740648813570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0qCdKqdAI/AAAAAAAAKv8/ijInV1NOncg/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+3.jpg" />It's hard to imagine you getting a lunch tray and walking through a line with all these other kids collecting your own lunch and taking your tray to a table to eat. You are growing up way too fast. My head is spinning. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511607746583884322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0qCzRsciI/AAAAAAAAKwE/jhAkgU4ng14/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+4.jpg" />You LOVED your first day of school. It was wonderful - you couldn't WAIT to go back. You made friends, you enjoyed the lunchtime experience and the two recesses. You LOVE your new teacher and everything was new and exciting - the activities, the children, the grown ups! It was a perfect beginning. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511607754269625602" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0qDP6HjQI/AAAAAAAAKwM/ZH5GJjPAR8M/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+5.jpg" />The first week has passed with flying colors and here we are in week 2. The novelty of the experience is wearing off a little and there are days when you would rather stay home, but you still love Kindergarten and are very glad to be there. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511609236899709026" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0rZjIrQGI/AAAAAAAAKwU/jKpBxxYChMA/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+6.jpg" />Yesterday was a rough day and when I picked you up, your face was red and swollen with tear streaks on your skin. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511611013832170594" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0tA-uY3GI/AAAAAAAAKw8/cTmsgKWMgzU/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+11.jpg" />I asked what happened and you talked about how the game that you played in gym was too hard for you and you got upset and then later you fell on the playground and scraped your leg and that it really was the baddest day ever. You were so sad! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511609244456124914" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0rZ_SRAfI/AAAAAAAAKwc/CSEJ4eXLntM/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+7.jpg" />I hugged you and suggested that we have Spaghetti O's for dinner since you love them. Then we talked on the drive to get Audrey about how we have to have bad days sometimes in order for us to really appreciate the good days. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511609246978586626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0raIrquAI/AAAAAAAAKwk/gRvH4NB77Jo/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+8.jpg" />Also, when you are down - there's nowhere to go but UP, so things would be getting better - not worse. The evening was calm and healed all wounds and this AM you were upset about going back, but Daddy had the Midas touch - keeping things light and easy - so that by the time you went to school, you were in a very good place. I anticipate when I pick you up, that it will have been a much better day than yesterday.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511609251873673186" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0raa6vz-I/AAAAAAAAKws/oHnJOGcbtw8/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+9.jpg" />I love that you are at this point - that you can tell me about how a word sounds and what two numbers equal when you add or subtract them from each other.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511609253431948034" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TH0raguRMwI/AAAAAAAAKw0/lpe-fQ7h31E/s400/Jack%27s+first+day+of+school+10.jpg" />You have also reached the milestone of pet owner. You are the very proud owner of your very own hamster named Peanut. He is adorable but you are MORE adorable. You love him more than anything and you bring him everywhere with you. He has come with us to the playground, down the slide, on the swing, and he plays computer with you and plays with your toys with you. He ends up driving cars and scurrying through obstacles from one point to another while you laugh and tell him he is silly and you love him. I just want to grab you up and hug you as I watch you play with this tiny little creature - you are so gentle and kind.<br /><br />You are growing up to be such a wonderful person, Jack. It's an honor to be your Mom.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-38149201905319043902010-08-14T19:51:00.002-06:002010-08-25T07:52:56.371-06:00Little Momma<object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Os3Y-UAM-2I?fs=1&hl=en_US"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Os3Y-UAM-2I?fs=1&hl=en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-344122379638572312010-07-21T14:59:00.009-06:002010-07-21T15:24:38.668-06:00PrettySee?!?<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 308px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496468209311598562" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TEdgtv8-x-I/AAAAAAAAKvk/D7x2q-H1k3A/s400/Vote+for+Audrey+7-16-10+for+Gerber+baby.JPG" /> <div><div></div><div>EVERYONE thinks you are cute! :)</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 306px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496468196789213842" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TEdgtBTaWpI/AAAAAAAAKvc/NlHQvPO-d2k/s400/7-21-10+Vote+for+Audrey.JPG" /> <div></div><div>Audrey,</div><div></div><br /><div>Lately you have turned into SUCH a girly girl!!! You have a jewelry box of bracelets that you like to put on your little arms and then you twist them back and forth with your little hand out and say "pwetty!" as we all admire how good you look!</div><div></div><br /><div>You love your sparkly pink glasses and bows and hats on your head. You LOVE pretty shoes and that's one of the words you use very frequently as you coo "SHooooooo" and try to jam the pretty thing on your foot. You usually get very angry when it doesn't slide right on due to the interference of a buckle or something, but this doesn't tarnish your opinion of the shoe - it's just something we need to be hollered at about.</div><div> </div><div>You are overall a very happy baby except if - for any reason whatsoever, I have to put you down or attend to something else. You really hate it when I am not with you - even if it's just putting you down so I can pour something to drink or empty the dishwasher. It's all just completely unacceptable. What kind of Mom needs two hands? A good one can make due with one, right? :) I am both loving this close stage and anticipating it's demise. I know it won't last and I'll yearn for your closeness. I wish I could stagger it in wonderful doses! :)</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Jack,</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>You are growing so fast now, it blows my mind. You are also ADDICTED to computer games and would be satisfied to spend the entire day sitting in front of the computer. You are SO addicted that the process of getting your attention when you sit in front of it is simply impossible. We have to put it away for you to listen at all and that only comes about after a screaming fit because the computer is gone and then angry yelling as you make us pay for taking it away from you for at least the next hour.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>The house lately has been increasing in volume, but there are so many wonderful things to say about that, too! You are also loving to read chapter stories with me - right now we are reading the Captain Underpants books that are written apparently JUST for you! The jokes are right up your alley and some of the strike you so humorously that we repeat them for days - it's actually quite funny. The two you have enjoyed the most recently is when the boys changed a sign to read: "I shake my big butt when I swim in the toilet" and "mommy, my airplane is swimming in the piano!" </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>These jokes are SOLID GOLD. You can go from seriously pissed to laughing in seconds if I should utter one of these SOLID GOLD JOKES. :) Good to know, right?</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Oh, and another thing - your friends are always right. If they ever state something as fact and you repeat it to us and we dare to try to correct the obvious error in communication, you will tell us so definitively that we are WRONG - that it hardly leaves any room to argue the point with you. You are certain that every one of your young friends are like a million times smarter than your parents. </div><div></div><div>I didn't expect the teen years yet.</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Love,</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Mommy</div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-81534079329276798562010-06-09T14:24:00.004-06:002010-06-09T14:44:54.334-06:00Same Dress<div align="center">Audrey,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">Same Dress - at one year of age. What do you think?</div><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480873277742942786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TA_5NQrMikI/AAAAAAAAKvM/RJSdpl-qM6o/s400/Audrey+Baby.JPG" /> <p align="center">Audrey - 12 months </p><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 311px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5480873314281577762" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/TA_5PYyr3SI/AAAAAAAAKvU/2rXejQKjhXw/s400/Picture1.JPG" /></div><div align="center">Bridget, 12 months</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I think we might be related... :)<br /></div><div align="center">Love,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Mommy</div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-57092178454107913422010-05-31T21:20:00.001-06:002010-06-09T08:25:18.669-06:00Itty Bitty BabyAudrey,<br /><br />I am such a baby. I'm so proud of the little toddler you are growing into and yet I still want you to stay my sweet little baby.<br /><br />You are <strong><em>one!</em></strong><br /><strong><em></em></strong><br />How did that happen?<br /><br />Was the last year on warp-speed?<br /><br />Sorry - what a predictable question - every Mom asks herself that question after the first year because you can still remember what it was like to carry you in my belly and those middle of the night feedings and all the ways that made me so necessary to you.<br /><br />You are so capable already. The doctor said at your one year visit that you didn't need bottles anymore so you are on sippy cups only and doing just fine with it. You are trying and succeeding incredibly well with using utensils at the dinner table and eating like a big girl.<br /><br />As if feeding yourself wasn't enough of a sign that you aren't my itty bitty baby anymore, you are also feeding your baby dolls with pretend plastic bottles and hugging them to your breast and patting their backs with such care and concern. In the very next breath, you will carelessly toss them over your shoulder as you head off to explore the next thing.<br /><br />Like your brother Jack before you, you LOVE to climb. You will climb anything and you have absolutely no fear of it. Stairs, pushing boxes or containers over to the sofa and climbing up on them, climbing on the chairs/boxes and standing up and grinning the biggest cheese-eating grin anyone ever saw because you are just so proud of what you can do. It's a very "LOOK AT ME!" pride and I do have to stop and admire you - your determination and the way you beam in your successes. On the reverse side, when you try something and you just can't do it, it absolutely breaks your heart. You either throw yourself backwards in desperate frustration - with no regard to your own safety - or you curl forward in a sobbing ball on the floor, like the collapsing of a dying star.<br /><br />You love to talk. You are so proud of your developing communication skills. And not surprisingly for a daughter of mine - one of your first words is "Dah-gee" which you generally say to the dogs with your little arms outstretched reaching to pull their hairy faces to your little face and generally with your mouth open to give them a kiss which they always willingly oblige much to your ecstatic joy and to my absolute horror. I dive towards you and the dogs to try to keep them from licking the inside of your mouth and you must think I am a very peculiar mom to be so worried about the transfer of LOVE! Because that's what you are doing - you are loving your "dah-gee"s.<br /><br />You can also say "bahl" for ball and "aaack" for Jack. You are constantly trying new words and succeeding. Today I was telling you that "Dah-gees" say "RUFF RUFF" and you deliberately tried it out: raaaaaaaaah raaaaaaaaaah to which I squealed and clapped YEEAH, AUDREY! THAT'S RIGHT! DOGGY'S SAY RUFF RUFF!<br /><br />I'm just enjoying the heck out of you, Little Girl! Mommy loves you!<br /><br />**MmmmmmmmWaaaaaaaaaah**<br /><br />Mah-MeeBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-7700614106804976182010-05-03T14:03:00.004-06:002010-05-03T14:22:55.435-06:00Defiant ChildAudrey and Jack,<br /><div><div></div><br /><div>When I was younger, my family nicknamed me "Defiant Child". I'm sure you can only imagine why.</div><div></div><br /><div>Well, this weekend, I was struck by the recognition of this trait in our young Audrey - only just 11 months old.</div><div></div><br /><div>Audrey was sitting at the table eating her dinner when her little foot wandered up to the top of the table and she perched it there, next to her plate in a yoga-esque pose as she continued to eat.</div><div></div><br /><div>I took hold of a cute little piggy and moved her foot off the table saying, "No feet where we eat, Audrey."</div><div></div><br /><div>Well, Audrey just put her foot right back up on the table and I corrected her again - "No feet where we eat, Audrey. No no. Yucky."</div><div></div><br /><div>Down again, up again, down again, up again....</div><div></div><br /><div>Frustrated, I left the room. </div><div></div><br /><div>From the other room, I hear Clay say "no way. She put her foot down when you left the room!"</div><div></div><br /><div>I was surprised and came back in to see. As soon as I was around the corner, Audrey popped her little foot right back on top of the table.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467141395542818914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S98wIhIpwGI/AAAAAAAAKvE/0T2F9Fc3cto/s400/5-2-10+Audrey+no+feet+where+we+eat.JPG" /> <div>Suspicious, I stepped out of the room again and I heard Daddy snickering as I did so.</div><div></div><br /><div>"She <em>didn't...."</em> I said from the other room.</div><div></div><br /><div>"She <em>did</em>!" he said back.</div><div></div><br /><div>I came back and POP the little foot popped back up on the top of the table.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467139000723814802" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S98t9HvTuZI/AAAAAAAAKu8/LPDCg2eyyBY/s400/5-2-10+Audrey+no+feet+where+we+eat+pic+2.jpg" /> <div></div><div>Is it ALL mothers and daughters that have this affect on each other or is it just this way in my family?</div><div></div><br /><div>Love,</div><br /><div></div><div>Mommy</div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-66707594268558392762010-04-19T20:30:00.004-06:002010-04-19T20:51:21.069-06:00Game OnJack,<br /><br />No more conduct reports - it seemed to be a two day thing for that - but the "testing of limits" game continues with me. Lately you seem to be a reluctant sweetie pie. As though, if we were acquaintences, you might say - "I think we need a break", but since you can't, you will say "Mommy, you're stupid. <em>(pause for affect, then...)</em> IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII'mmmmmmm Sssssssssssssssooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" in a sing-songy voice that tells me you are anything BUT sorry.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462045667464618450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S80VmGwwodI/AAAAAAAAKuM/J0K71sR_0AQ/s400/IMG_0001.JPG" />I've tried time outs, ignoring you, talking to you, getting angry and asking you how you would like it if I did that to you, and taking away toys.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462045678261234306" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S80Vmu-36oI/AAAAAAAAKuU/6F5La7zVusY/s400/IMG_0020.JPG" />Nothing seems to be working. Instead, it seems like you are curious about what I'll do next. Maybe what I need to do is land on one punishment and repeat it until you are thoroughly bored with the constant sameness of the punishment and simply stop the behavior for fear of the boredom that follows.<br /><br />Hmmmm - I think that idea might work... :)<br /><br />Guess what we're going to try?<br /><br />As for Audrey - she is getting her teeth in and is about as sensitive as she can be.<br /><br />I can't leave the room and if someone talks to her and she is in anyway overwhelmed by their inflection, Audrey will break into heart wrenching sobs.<br /><br />I've been seeing a lot of this face lately.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462045682142620610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S80Vm9cRK8I/AAAAAAAAKuc/xzc9aqo7CD0/s400/IMG_0030.JPG" />I can't wait till those teeth come in and those moments become moments like this:<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462045691885019714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S80VnhvCYkI/AAAAAAAAKuk/JFVeZeOq7sI/s400/IMG_0033.JPG" />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-24363979885673445572010-04-08T20:20:00.001-06:002010-04-12T15:34:30.017-06:00Little black rain cloudJack,<br /><br />The past two days have been very hard on you.<br /><br />Both yesterday and today you received conduct reports for bad behavior at school and I can't figure out what is going on. You seem to be angry and bothered - you walk around with a complex and clouded expression on your face and, if this were a cartoon, I would imagine a little black rain cloud following you around and pouring down on you as you went through your day.<br /><br />I wish I knew what was wrong and how to make it better.<br /><br />I suspect it has something to do with Daddy being gone and wishing you were with us during the day and not wanting to go to school, etc, but we deal with that at the beginning of each week for the most part, so I can't really figure why it's been so hard for you the past couple of days. I think last week when he was home all week was so nice for you that it made this week especially difficult.<br /><br />Still, as much as I sympathize with you feeling sad about this, your actions have me racking my brain about that I need to do next. You've been speaking disrespectfully to me and your teachers, you have been acting out with friends - hitting and kicking and even one biting incident - I know that we need to get this under control now.<br /><br />Audrey,<br /><br />You have been having a difficult time, too. I don't know why - a growth spurt? Teething? I'm unsure, but you have been clingier and therefore I have less time to give to Jack one-on-one. This difficult time seems to be harder for you in the evenings and when you wake up. Lately you become unconsolable at these times. I don't know if it's brought on by pain from teething, frustration with not being able to communicate, hurt feelings and sadness from being separated when I put you down at night or have to do chores around the house that I need two hands for. Bottom line is that you are precious to me and I feel just awful when you cry. I know it's okay for babies to cry, but I wish you never had to.<br /><br />I think the hardest thing about being a mother of more than one is that you want to give 100% to both kids. I know that's my biggest challenge - and I try like crazy to accomplish this. To find a way to do two things at once, if that's the case or find a way to involve one child in another child's interest so you can really spend time with both of them.<br /><br />I'm extremely fortunate that the two of you are so enraptured with each other even now. If Jack runs towards Audrey, Audrey will shriek with excitement so much so that she jumps into my arms and grins so widely at Jack, that it looks like her face can't possibly hold all that happiness. It's really fantastic to see!<br /><br />So, while I know there are ups and downs and things can't always be sunshine and sugar, I am always on a search for that return to harmony.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-53788981257071298072010-04-05T13:46:00.007-06:002010-04-05T14:27:06.384-06:00Family Picture<div><div><div>Jack and Audrey,<br /><br />I wanted to get a new family picture - I called it a birthday present so that everyone would feel compelled to go along with me. :) Worked like a charm. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456748199542643698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pDk4592_I/AAAAAAAAKsk/3nsSydUcW-o/s400/4-3-10+picture+2.bmp" />So, we got our pictures taken - it was fun, minimally stressful and I think it turned out wonderfully - the actual picture taking that is....<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456748202029825842" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pDlCK9PzI/AAAAAAAAKss/yJH3WlF4Af8/s400/4-3-10+picture+3.bmp" />Okay, so these are the BEFORE pictures. I don't actually have any AFTER pictures because the fallout which happened approximately 20 minutes after these pictures were taken was so drastic that if I had so much as suggested that we take a picture, I think Daddy would have removed my head with a plastic spoon. :)<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456748207937330962" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pDlYLanxI/AAAAAAAAKs0/vasEQ1xcsLU/s400/4-3-10+picture+6.bmp" />Let me start over - so the pictures are taken - all is well. The picture people told us to come back in 15 minutes to view the pictures so we headed to the mall playground. We watched the kids play for 15 minutes and they were having a blast even though there were a couple of moments when my heart stopped because big kids were dashing about with no regard for Audrey, but all was fine.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456748210882520530" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pDljJmpdI/AAAAAAAAKs8/hBf2bakUpFI/s400/4-3-10+picture+8.bmp" />So, I went to view the pictures while Daddy watched you guys on the playground.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456748221403378290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pDmKV-MnI/AAAAAAAAKtE/zBqgQi4Z56I/s400/4-3-10+picture+9.bmp" />I was there making the picture choices for about 5 minutes when Daddy comes around the corner with blood all down the sleeve of his shirt saying "We have to <em>go</em>. <strong><em>NOW</em></strong>."<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456749587930357074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pE1tDZHVI/AAAAAAAAKtM/pLT0sRj_TXY/s400/4-3-10+picture+10.bmp" />I'm alarmed and notice that you, Jack, are standing next to Daddy crying with blood caked on your nose and face, and your shirt, pants and shoes covered in splattered blood - making for a very dramatic picture.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456749593413555730" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pE2BesFhI/AAAAAAAAKtU/lSGS0I4XJQI/s400/4-3-10+picture+15.bmp" />I start trying to get checked out as quickly as possible, and trying to calm you down with hugs and dabbing at your face with a wet towel, but there are simply too many people and too much chaos. Daddy is holding napkins sturated in blood and cups with cold water and ice that helpful people brought to him in an effort to try to assist in this situation and which he is now stressfully holding while Audrey tries determinedly to get her hands on and pull from his grasp.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456749608441832898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pE25dtZcI/AAAAAAAAKtk/VduEB56w8UI/s400/4-3-10+picture+13.bmp" />Apparently you were playing on the playground when a little girl who was running ran smack into your nose. You tend towards nose bleeds anyways but when you really get smacked, your nose bleeds like a faucet. You were covered in blood, as was Daddy and Audrey was all wide eyed with everything that was happening. I had a little from the assuring hugs and attempts to calm you.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456749613375270530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pE3L17roI/AAAAAAAAKts/fXQQ93ZqkwQ/s400/4-3-10+picture+16.bmp" />Jack - you got really pale because you had swallowed blood from holding your head up to stop the bleeding which actually caused the blood to go down the back of your throat and you became nauseous - so we were carrying a box for you to puke into as we all limped back to the van in our bloodstained clothes and our faces stressed and worried from the whole situation. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456751774911419042" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pG1AMT0qI/AAAAAAAAKt8/wuC-BwTicPg/s400/4-3-10+picture+25.bmp" />If you could have seen a picture of all of us in our white clothes, stained with blood afterwards, you would have thought we had just gone through a war zone. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456751783173667618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pG1e-LuyI/AAAAAAAAKuE/HvAMof1ljVQ/s400/4-3-10+picture+26.bmp" />Amazing how much things can change in just 20 minutes.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456751774674509442" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S7pG0_T03oI/AAAAAAAAKt0/5TdPsDgpd2Y/s400/4-3-10+picture+22.bmp" />Love,<br /><br />Mommy</div></div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-59538219200621876152010-03-15T20:26:00.011-06:002010-03-15T21:59:54.588-06:00Now I can see my WHOLE NECK!Jack,<br /><br />Today you turned 5 years old.<br /><br />Sure - this may not seem as astounding to anyone besides maybe myself, your Dad and immediate family members. I mean... I guess it was bound to happen at some point, right?<br /><br />Still. You are FIVE!<br /><br />Wow.<br /><br />This morning you emphatically told me that now you could see your <em>whole neck</em>! I won't tell you how long I pondered that statement before I put together that you meant when you looked in the mirror. Lately, my mind isn't what it used to be.<br /><br />I look upon five as a big milestone - you become school age, you aren't technically a baby anymore - you are now in the little kid zone. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449059617718876994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S57y2hoPO0I/AAAAAAAAKq8/kI_pSOXFfKc/s400/IMG_1483.JPG" />You have friends that you hang out with and joke with now and you'll come home and tell me what Max said today and laugh while I nod blankly desperately trying to put the puzzle together in my head to figure out what the joke was. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449059629186352994" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S57y3MWTB2I/AAAAAAAAKrE/VnxOvbqsOYw/s400/IMG_1492.JPG" />The punchlines always seem to have something to do with the word STINK or POO and they just send you into convulsions of laughter.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449065653772191650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S574V3rfh6I/AAAAAAAAKrU/WKRXIJW40Bw/s400/IMG_1502.JPG" />AHHH, YESSS - I remember that. Five year old humor! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449059593631476578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S57y1H5Wq2I/AAAAAAAAKqs/reofLnPJe28/s400/IMG_1450.JPG" />So, we had a big birthday bash this year where you could invite all your friends and play in a fun environment. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449059605017191282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S57y1yT643I/AAAAAAAAKq0/kt4LgMHsv0E/s400/IMG_1470.JPG" />We opted for Monkey Joe's and I'm really very proud of how well the party went. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449059638463549074" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S57y3u6JzpI/AAAAAAAAKrM/JtLNLwnFVUo/s400/IMG_1499.JPG" />It was a VeggieTales party because that is your absolute favorite thing now. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449065665952119154" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S574WlDaeXI/AAAAAAAAKrc/_mKpHvI3kx4/s400/IMG_1521.JPG" />I planned this for weeks - I ordered special favors online because there aren't any local stores that carry VeggieTales items. I found costumes and videos at stores, but that was it.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449065676372657826" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S574XL33RqI/AAAAAAAAKrk/7ab1ZfCUnK4/s400/IMG_1528.JPG" />The cake was VeggieTales which I was able to find at a local bakery - put together goody bags and the whole shabbang.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449068109441193970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S576kzwm1_I/AAAAAAAAKsE/TmkngUuCrWk/s400/IMG_1529.JPG" />I'm sooooooooooooo glad we did it, too, because you had such a blast with your friends! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449065697412446146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S574YaQI98I/AAAAAAAAKr0/Y2wroD3Z4Zw/s400/IMG_1675.JPG" />I'll admit - it had the element of Lord Of the Flies to it, but in a good way! :) <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449065688404209138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S574X4saLfI/AAAAAAAAKrs/g7eQpsYwrYQ/s400/IMG_1636.JPG" />You were all so cute running around and jumping and you were almost purple in the face from all the activity before you slowed down to eat. Actually, <em>you</em> slowed down because someone - some girl I don't know - pushed you down and that was it. You were crushed. It was a typical "It's my party and I'll cry if I want to" moment that we've all had at some point. It was all so exciting and you were basically elevated to cloud level for hours on end. A crash was inevitable, but it wasn't too bad. You simply chilled in the party room while your guests continued to bounce and you were completely recovered by the time everyone joined us in the room to eat and open gifts.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449068137128649394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S576ma5z4rI/AAAAAAAAKsc/wEyrT5K2iTc/s400/IMG_1719.JPG" />Recently, I've been reminiscing with you about how I wished for you before you were born. How I couldn't stop hoping that I would have a baby and that you were the perfect little baby that I dreamed of that came along and made me a Mommy.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449068118015249682" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S576lTs0jRI/AAAAAAAAKsM/1JYI_9rnDOo/s400/IMG_1747.JPG" />I let you know that I asked for YOU specifically and I got what I wished for, but it's not really the truth because, Jack - I could never have imagined that anything would be as strong as this - this fierce need to protect, this testing of my strengths and pushing me to be a better person - this all encompassing<em> love. It's better than anything I could ever have hoped for because it's better than I could ever have imagined.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449068129359102962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S576l99aA_I/AAAAAAAAKsU/xKAo_ITuuMc/s400/IMG_1750.JPG" /></em>You make the day brighter and you show me the way by showing me how to become the person that I want to be each day.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449068103086979522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S576kcFpOcI/AAAAAAAAKr8/n8aEb1qwtJM/s400/IMG_1418.JPG" /> <p>Happy Birthday, Jack!</p><p>Love,</p><p>Mommy</p>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-36550071272213646202010-03-09T10:23:00.002-06:002010-03-09T10:35:00.500-06:00A Pure JoyAudrey,<br /><br />You are growing and changing so much that it’s impossible to keep up.<br /><br />Seems like just yesterday you were this chubby little smiling cherub that happily watched me and came along for the ride while I did what I needed to do and enjoyed playing with you balanced on my lap or tummy.<br /><br />Now you are on the move – crawling, pulling up and getting into everything. I swear that whenever I’m in the middle of something that you shouldn’t get into or if I’m changing your diaper, you grow <strong><em>eight arms</em></strong>. It’s <em>impossible </em>to keep you under control. You can be pulling a wipe into your mouth, while your legs are twisting the opposite direction threatening to get poop on my pants, the couch or carpet, your other hand grabbing my hair that is hanging down and you are trapping my head to your chest while you start pushing off with your other back leg trying to scoot up and out from under me and screaming all the while. WOW!<br /><br />You LOVE to eat paper. I barely have a chance to see Jack’s artwork that he’s showing me when I realize you already had the corner in your mouth, chewed it off and are consuming it while you brother looks on in unspeakable horror. The fiber in your diet must be astronomical. You may be part goat.<br /><br />You have such an incredible love of life. Many times a day your enthusiasm and excitement for your brother, his antics and life happening around you is so large that it spills over in loud screams and squeals. Sometimes with your arms extended as though the sound itself was not enough – your whole body explodes with your enthusiasm!<br /><br />Absolutely nothing escapes your attention – you notice everything. At school, you watch your friends and wind up exploring new areas, like the kitchen, etc – and you pull them down to your level so you can interact with them – squealing and screaming as you do so. They shake on the baby gate, so you crawl over and shake it too, just as hard as any of the big ones - enjoying every moment of being a part of something. Sometimes you get overwhelmed by them because you are so little and most of them are toddlers – bigger than you and you will scream to be rescued from the pack of toddlers when they swarm too thick about you.<br /><br />You love to eat big person food. You will try anything and you are very observant. You look at the food really carefully as you try it and, if you don’t like it, you don’t pick it up again. Also, if you DO like the food, not only do you easily find more of it, but you hummmmm in appreciation of the food. Hmmmmmmm as you eat it. As though this yummy discovery just makes your motor purr.<br /><br />Feeding your bottle to you has become a bit of a challenge. You are always wanting to turn your head to see what is going on so you can watch it. I certainly wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything! Also, the end to breastfeeding is just around the corner. You have started to bite me, so we are in the weaning process now. You certainly know sometimes what you are doing because you will pause and look at my face before you bite and then when I wince and tell you not to do that, you smile at me - seeming to understand you made that cause/effect happen and you are so happy to make the connection. Yes, definitely weaning... :)<br /><br />You are always on the move now. You certainly wish your body allowed you to move faster than you already do. Sometimes I play a game with you and Jack where Jack takes off running and your legs start pumping in mid air as I hold you and you start breathing as though you are charging after him. I take the cue and charge after him holding you out in front of me while you just SCREEEEEEAM in excitement that you are chasing down your big brother. When we finally catch him, I will place you sitting on top of him and you usually pin him down with your little arms while you scream and put your mouth on his head in excitement of playing with your big brother whom you idolize more than anything else in this world. It’s so much fun to play and be a witness to this love and devotion.<br /><br />Jack keeps saying that you are the cutest baby and he loves how chubby you are. I’d have to agree – you are the perfect amount of cute round smiling chubbiness.<br /><br />You even have gotten to the point where you can play simple games with me – peekaboo with your blanket and we can roll a ball back and forth which is very exciting to you and you will SMILE BIG as I toss the ball to you or after you succeed in pushing it back to me.<br /><br />We always read The BellyButton book at night and when I sing the Belly Button song on the second to last page, you always turn full around and face me with a smile growing on your face as you listen to my voice singing to you. Every time it happens that way – like you are so surprised to hear me singing – as though you never expected to hear my voice do that and you like it and smile at me afterwards for awhile before you turn back to the end of the story.<br /><br />I wish I had it together enough to take pictures of all these things – to video tape all these things because I never ever ever want to forget them. They are memories that make my heart feel like it’s going to explode. My mother used to say she wanted to stop my baby sister from growing up. I do wish there was a way to hold onto these moments and relive them throughout life because these moments are so pure and joyful. And that's what you are. A Pure Joy.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-79710103971901275592010-02-28T21:20:00.012-06:002010-03-02T11:28:00.666-06:00Gratuitous CutenessAudrey,<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Here are your 9 month old pictures taken today....</div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div> </div><div>Love,<br /><br />Mommy<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444057124137966114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40tHE0tmiI/AAAAAAAAKms/NbqfDGPa0TA/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic1.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 265px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444057134055532370" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40tHpxPp1I/AAAAAAAAKm0/jBZ_-IYmD6Y/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic2.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444057136182123506" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40tHxsQ2_I/AAAAAAAAKm8/yddV-DL9oVI/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic3.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444057140406806386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40tIBbgZ3I/AAAAAAAAKnE/Jc5VE2E-nR8/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic4.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444057146167842834" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40tIW5C2BI/AAAAAAAAKnM/eDo-1Iu_hvQ/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic5.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444062285547533090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40xzgkpcyI/AAAAAAAAKnU/ZvKZtl_KnEI/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic6.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444062291823253122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40xz385VoI/AAAAAAAAKnc/gptz2J3ngdc/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic7.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444062293416563810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40xz94xVGI/AAAAAAAAKnk/MdV4y_F0uL8/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic8.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444062299503753794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40x0UkEekI/AAAAAAAAKns/d8DObMlqEsk/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic9.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444062307363052258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40x0x132uI/AAAAAAAAKn0/Y44YpaC756U/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic10.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444065980424265218" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S401KlD6HgI/AAAAAAAAKn8/olMFP8-ISqg/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic11.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444065982243148770" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S401Kr1kE-I/AAAAAAAAKoE/4tPNgYnaHA4/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic12.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444065986344372962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S401K7HXyuI/AAAAAAAAKoM/uHQNSLY2zp4/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic13.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444065990278516498" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S401LJxWDxI/AAAAAAAAKoU/1ZGKfRsJ0-Q/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic14.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444065997833116306" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S401Ll6gGpI/AAAAAAAAKoc/hkZ9BqFCBIQ/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic15.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444069624601820578" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S404esrivaI/AAAAAAAAKok/_3p-2IARM0o/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic16.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444069628183987474" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S404e6BmRRI/AAAAAAAAKos/cJ99KvcHBn4/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic17.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444069633514675138" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S404fN4iG8I/AAAAAAAAKo0/8nVKwndLyf0/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic18.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444069632846092306" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S404fLZIWBI/AAAAAAAAKo8/8rbR1CXr8Kk/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic19.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444069636460761922" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S404fY2700I/AAAAAAAAKpE/i3UQ8dMS2AE/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic20.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444076687287424098" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40-5zPAlGI/AAAAAAAAKpM/yIpKNEXPD9A/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic21.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444076691982815906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40-6EuekqI/AAAAAAAAKpU/l_Pw5VrkL1c/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic22.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444076695897736818" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40-6TT3hnI/AAAAAAAAKpc/wc4nc2LHUrw/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic23.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444076702122723794" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40-6qgBSdI/AAAAAAAAKpk/lCI5GXoRg1k/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic24.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444076712059118882" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S40-7PhCpSI/AAAAAAAAKps/skJOWGrKE_Y/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic25.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444079926970942642" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41B2X_wBLI/AAAAAAAAKp0/IIwrFo6HZRQ/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic26.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444079926227970466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41B2VOnKaI/AAAAAAAAKp8/c2QnzuF4bF8/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic27.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444079930144876450" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41B2j0eZ6I/AAAAAAAAKqE/qXfkiffCfYE/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic28.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444079940157877986" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41B3JHwruI/AAAAAAAAKqM/fjvxLLvUtmw/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic29.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444079942397087570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41B3RdoT1I/AAAAAAAAKqU/KO6WXDMcFAw/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic30.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444088873892883858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41J_J4KrZI/AAAAAAAAKqc/oMs3PKxR1go/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic31.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444088877522600322" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S41J_XZjwYI/AAAAAAAAKqk/JGYlDeOlu6M/s400/Audrey+9+mo+pic32.jpg" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-4098983549264071542010-02-25T15:18:00.006-06:002010-02-25T15:32:29.623-06:00Through any weather....Jack and Audrey,<br /><br />The weather outside is cold here, but Daddy is up in the NY area trying to get home to us. He is on one of the only flights that haven't been cancelled. Here is a picture from his plane right now as he is waiting to take off.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442296864983702210" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4bsKgeTWsI/AAAAAAAAKmk/GIt0tM4BwyU/s400/Daddy+trying+to+get+home.JPG" />And here you see the yellow blur is the machine that clears the runway - this as your Daddy's plane is taxi-ing to leave.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442295438014803842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4bq3cmZ74I/AAAAAAAAKmc/N2P_gT6_ZpE/s400/Daddy+trying+to+get+home2.JPG" />I just wanted to share this with you because your Daddy loves you and - well - they say a picture is worth a thousand words. That display of love brings tears to my eyes.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-30150191442545848152010-02-24T13:32:00.004-06:002010-02-26T11:14:59.245-06:00TantrumJack,<br /><br />Overall, I'd say that you and I have a good relationship - we communicate well and I think you "get" my parenting style - when I'm going to let something slide and when you better listen to me.<br /><br />Last night was a cultural heritage night at your school. It kind of took me by surprise because I somehow missed all the announcements until yesterday morning. So I flew around at lunch yesterday, locating some loaves of Irish Soda Bread and marmalade which I was proud of getting and thus was prepared with contribution and all - even in spite of my disorganization. SCORE!!!<br /><br />I don't really know what set the evening off, but I was late getting you. I arrived right at 6 because I had to get your sister, breastfeed her in private so I wouldn't be pulling one out in the middle of the school, and let the dogs out. Thus, I was late getting you. You were in a different room (this might have started things off - change is very anxiety producing for you) and you were watching a movie (which you never do at this school). Your eyes were big when I came to get you and you seemed really surprised with where you were and what was going on.<br /><br />The night was really such a cute idea. Each room represented a specific country - a country that they had been learning about for the past month and done many projects on. Now tonight, all the projects and things you learned were on display in each room and the children were given "Passports" so you would go from room to room and learn about that country and get a stamp on your passport before going to the next country.<br /><br />Everything fell apart in Africa. :)<br /><br />You wanted to make a mask, but they were out of the paper plates needed to make one. You started to cry and were unconsolable. Over the course of the next five minutes of me trying to explain and turn this around, the crying turned into yelling that <em>you wanted to make a MASK!</em><br /><em></em><br />I had already explained that the plates were gone like a thousand times so I decided to try to ignore it and see if that worked, but you followed along after me screaming about wanting to make the mask, over and over again. I - with carefully controlled patience - would explain here and there about the plates being out. That we would make one later at home because we have plates at home and it would be fun.<br /><br />More screaming and crying and yelling.<br /><br />Now we are in line for food and parents are trying to get me to go in front of them because I so obviously have my hands full with you. You are now yelling about how you DON'T WANT THAT TO EAT, YOU WANT THAT!, DON'T LET AUDREY EAT THAT, and on and on and on.<br /><br />I had to get out of line after a while because this was not working. I turned to find a place to sit and read on some parents faces "Oh, please don't sit with us" which I understood so I found a place for us to sit on the back wall on a couple of folding chairs. You followed after me with a purplish-red face, sobbing and yelling about how you wanted to sit at a table!!! I explained that we were NOT going to sit at a table and ruin anyone else's night with our screaming. You fell apart even further. You grabbed my fork when I tried to eat, you screamed and yelled. Finally, one of your friends and their family tried to join us - I think they wanted to see if they could help me. I politely explained that I didn't know what was happening but we were going to leave. You started in with more shrieking and crying that you DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE!! NOOOOOOO!!!<br /><br />There was a speaker that you were louder than so we exited the auditorium loudly - your cries carried up and down the empty halls as you screamed and sobbed about leaving the party, et al.<br /><br />In the van, you started to settle down. You were still crying and whining, but I could talk to you now. I told you that we were going to have to think of a big punishment for you because your behavior had been completely unacceptable.<br /><br />You got quiet and asked what the punishment would be. I told you I thought for the next 2 days, you couldn't use the computer or watch any TV. You were horrified about this, but I'm not sure you entirely believed me.<br /><br />When we got home, I told you I would fix you a simple sandwich and carrot sticks but that was all, you would play quietly and then it was bedtime. While you ate, we talked about what had happened that night. I brought to your attention that other children after you had also not been able to make masks tonight and then I asked you if you had noticed any other children behaving the way that you had. You said that you hadn't. I told you that I wasn't very proud of your behavior and I was disappointed that the night had turned out like it had. You took this very hard. I asked you if YOU were proud of how you behaved. What you would have thought if one of your friends had done that. You said you weren't proud of it. <br /><br />You kept asking me the rest of the night to be happy with you. It would have been easier to relent, but I wasn't going for easy. I explained to you that I LOVED you - that I would ALWAYS love you, no matter what. But that I wasn't happy with you at all right now. I said that I wasn't proud of how you behaved and when I'm not proud of your behavior, I'm not very happy with you right now. <br /><br />It was important to me that you understood that I loved you always, but I couldn't brush aside what had happened or you wouldn't learn anything from it. Therefore, for the rest of the night when you asked if I was happy with you, I said "I love you very much, Jack, but I'm not very happy with your behavior tonight". I told you that you could make me, but more importantly YOURSELF proud of your behavior by trying really hard to make good choices and learning to control your body when you feel yourself becoming upset. You said that you would and demonstrated to me throughout the night that you understood. You were a great listener and you went out of your way to be thoughtful to me and to your sister.<br /><br />I think that, although tonight was tough - the talk that came out of it and the experience of it may in the end be well worth the experience itself.<br /><br />Funny how that works out, huh?<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-79150124327963351662010-02-22T09:55:00.017-06:002010-02-22T10:51:15.000-06:00Baby Shower SentimentJack,<br /><br />This weekend I was struck with an inspirational moment. I had a baby shower gift for a friend/co-worker that I had just wrapped in plain brown paper and I needed to give Audrey a bottle of milk.<br /><br />I called you over and asked you if you would color a pretty picture on the package for my friend. She was having a new baby - wasn't that exciting? And I would love it if you would color a picture for her to decorate her present.<br /><br />You nodded solemnly and said "Okay, Mommy!" and set to coloring on the present.<br /><br />I settled in to feed Audrey her bottle while you worked intently on your coloring and I mentally high-fived myself for coming up with such a fantastic and inspirational idea! You were so creative and enjoying the process and this would put a personal touch on the baby shower gift for my friend/co-worker.<br /><br />After the bottle was done, you looked up excitedly and called me over to show me the picture you had drawn. You were very enthusiastic. I walked over and you showed me what you had created:<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 270px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441100651084418466" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4KsNscIjaI/AAAAAAAAKkk/tk6O9KpeqMc/s400/Jack%27s+picture+4.JPG" />"See, Mommy! It's a BATTLE! See this guy here?":<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 388px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441102691160225282" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4KuEcUG9gI/AAAAAAAAKk0/E8Z-eb678w0/s400/Closeup+Jack%27s+Pic+1.JPG" />"He's dead. And see this?!? It's a MOUNTAIN!":<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 225px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441104148364660610" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4KvZQ0uD4I/AAAAAAAAKk8/FDNt120r1Pc/s400/Closeup+Jack%27s+Pic+2.JPG" />"And THESE guys are all falling off the mountain!":<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 250px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441105458682278674" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4KwliIyMxI/AAAAAAAAKlE/Qc-ReLZcDjQ/s400/Jack%27s+Closeup+Pic+3.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 356px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441106868919602146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4Kx3nrkC-I/AAAAAAAAKlM/fi9G4m5HUiY/s400/Jack%27s+Closeup+Pic+4.JPG" />"And over HERE? THIS is a MONSTER!":<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 235px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441108807578954530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4Kzodv-KyI/AAAAAAAAKlU/9RlVPeOv9Qw/s400/Jack%27s+Closeup+Pic+5.JPG" /><br /><p>If there was a moment in parenthood where you could take a picture of my face - this would have been the ultimate Kodak moment. My mouth was hanging open and my eyes were bulging out at this picture as I took in all the mayhem at once.</p><p>You were proudly watching my face and I found myself stammering out an "ooooooooh, wow! This is...... WOW! Great job, Buddy......"</p><p>You smiled proudly, climbed down from the table and walked off to play with some toys.</p><p>I had a seat at the table, still looking at the picture, dumbfounded.</p><p>Moments later, though, and I'm starting to laugh. Boy, is my present at this shower going to be an original! :)</p><p>And what a statement this makes. "Welcome to parenthood, my friend! Oh, and the gift? It's a parachute! Best of luck!"</p><p>Love,</p><p>Mommy</p>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-30254916638411823982010-02-17T16:07:00.005-06:002010-02-22T15:37:03.397-06:00RoomiesJack and Audrey are roommates now. This was accomplished this weekend. A rearrangement of Jack's bedroom created space for the crib which we reassembled and thus we have leaped into this new setup.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441184303313062338" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4L4S5RoCcI/AAAAAAAAKlc/C6M3nmKyKoA/s400/12-2009+Jack+at+school1.jpg" />Jack - you are thrilled. You are frequently afraid of the dark, so this scenario where you have someone in the room with you at night is welcomed by you.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441184308053316738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4L4TK7ylII/AAAAAAAAKlk/v4vk_XLTsnM/s400/12-2009+Jack+at+school2.jpg" />Forget the fact that she can just barely move herself from one spot to another. :) I'm sure she would be a perfect partner should things come down to mortal combat.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 259px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 194px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441184311555348850" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4L4TX-vWXI/AAAAAAAAKls/WPLwXs6V_K4/s400/12-2009+Jack+at+school3.jpg" />Audrey - You hardly put up a fight about this. I really expected this transition to be more drawn out and difficult than it has been.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441184316786676274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4L4Trd_EjI/AAAAAAAAKl0/dqEkMbsZQBo/s400/audrey+12-5-09.JPG" />Perhaps it has to do with the fact that you worship the ground that your brother walks on. When you see him approach you or catch a glimpse of him across the room, the excitement you experience can only be likened to that of a teenage girl in the presence of a rock star she worships - you let out the most excited scream and your little hands wave in the air and your legs kick in excitement - your whole face lit up with the energy of the wave of delight you are riding at seeing your brother. I laugh every time I witness this because if ever there was a picture of adoration - this is it.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 334px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441184323921383666" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S4L4UGDCEPI/AAAAAAAAKl8/43lSh_mXJqk/s400/audrey+12-5-09+pic+2.JPG" />It's not to say that you don't wake up still in the night wanting a little milk or horrified to find that there isn't someone right next to you breathing, but the transition has been so much smoother than I had ever hoped it might be.<br /><br />Thank you for that!<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />MommyBridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-19308891149645515572010-02-10T12:01:00.004-06:002010-02-10T12:25:40.135-06:00For the Greater GoodAudrey,<br /><br /><br />You got tubes the other day and you are doing so well. It was tough when you first came back because you were disoriented and appeared to be in pain, but after sleeping, you felt better.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436679416529962002" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_HfzaHKTSh8E/S3L3H-PyRBI/AAAAAAAAKkc/EtMCt4-tIGE/s400/Audrey+in+recovery+2-9-10+after+getting+tubes.JPG" /><br />Yesterday you had some pain when you would cough or burp. The cough or burp would occur and you would flinch and look at me with great surprise like someone had sucker punched you and you simply couldn't believe it. Then you would cry and I would hug you and console you until you were okay again.<br /><br />This morning, it's amazing - you seem back to yourself already if that's possible.<br /><br />I wonder if this is like when a blister pops. Initially it hurts like crazy, but once it scabs over, you almost forget about it. I'm no doctor, but I wonder if this is why you are doing so well so fast?<br /><br />Your doctor did confirm that you had thick cloudy fluid behind your eardrum when they drained it and that you definitely had another infection. You are on new strong antibiotics to take care of this, but you don't mind taking the medicine at this point and the end is in sight.<br /><br />I love you - I know this is the best for you! You are just amazing, Little Girl!<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />Mommy<br /><br />P.S. - your brother was able to make you smile and squeal right off when you got home. Surgery Schmurgery. Jack ROCKS! :)Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-62083451462508153822010-01-16T14:15:00.011-06:002010-02-10T12:48:56.862-06:00Dadada.... Dadada..... Dadadaaaaaaaa da daIf that title comes out sounding like baby babble and ALSO a little bit like the Mission Impossible theme, that's no mistake.<br /><br />I hate that it's been so long since I wrote anything about what it's like these past months raising you and Jack because it's always such a wild journey that I know I'm missing a million things, but lately it feels like there simply isn't time for anything but watching the two of you.<br /><br />Sometimes I feel like I'm a passenger in life and I'm riding in a vehicle - I don't know the speed, I have no idea where it's headed and I can't do anything about any of that because I'm in charge of the other two passengers who happen to both be a little INSANE! :)<br /><br />Audrey,<br /><br />You have had five ear infections and you are only 7 months. Next up - ENT appt. We'll be having you checked out by a doctor to see if he recommends tubes.<br /><br />Yet, in spite of all the ear infections you have had, you are such a happy baby! You love people, you love Jack, you love animals, you love just about anything. You are sitting up on your own and you will busily play with toys - pulling objects out of containers can keep you entertained for quite awhile. EVERYTHING goes into your mouth right now. You LOVE eating paper - you can and do eat any paper you can find. There is a big bite mark on a party invitation Jack got from a preschool friend that is on our refrigerator now. You only have two teeth so you manage to get the paper to rip right off with the sheer force of the amount of saliva that you come at the paper with. You salivate so much when you chew on paper that it's instantaneously changed to pulp and falls right into your mouth when I try to tug it out. Jeeeeez. I hope it's good fiber and not too much bleach/chemicals/dyes, etc, because you are getting more than your fair share of diet straight from trees.<br /><br />You love to give big slobbery opened mouth kisses. The kind that leaves the receivers face wet with saliva and snot, yet somehow smiling because of the adorable smile and pudgy hands that reach out - the package that the kiss comes in is absolutely irresistable.<br /><br />You are very attached to me - I have become an extension of you. You can't get around like you want to or pick up everything you want to, etc, and I'm the extension of you that enables you to do that. I guess I am food and comfort and safety and you'd rather be with those things than without. You will play on the ground as long as you feel me sitting with you - or sit in my lap and smile and talk to others, but the minute I get up and walk away from you, you turn around and look at me with the saddest face as if to say "why did you leave me?"<br /><br />I'm pretty susceptible to it and have to work on:<br /><ol><li>Letting you cry it out in your crib a little before rescuing you</li><li>Let you cry it out in your high chair (without setting you in my lap for dinner)</li><li>Letting you cry it out in the carseat (you HATE the carseat and I get SO stressed out when you are melting down in the car because there is nothing I can do about it)</li></ol><p>You only have two teeth - both in front - on one top and one on bottom - but you are trying most any food you can. Soft carrots, soft potatoes, avacado, bananas, apples, grapes, bread, rolls, on and on and on. You are more than thrilled to be given the opportunity to eat something off of the plate of a big person. You bring it to your mouth slowly memorizing what it looks like and as you gnaw on it slowly, a smile spreads across your face as you seem to be saying "look at me - I'm a real person just like you!"</p><p>At the exact same time that you are developing into this little person, Jack is just as magnificent as ever as a brother - he loves you more than I could ever describe. He doesn't want you to smile at anyone else more than you smile at him. He yells to bring your eyes to him, he does dances in your face so you will coo at him, he asks me to bring you to him and a wet baby kiss from you is enough to move him into a giggle fit.</p><p>There are times when he is sometimes a little jealous, too.</p><p>Jack,</p><p>Honey, you are the best big brother I could have imagined! You LOVE your baby Audrey!</p><p>You have nicknamed Audrey "Hedgie" and she calls you BAAAABAAA, so I have nicknamed up Bubba. Bubba and Hedgie. What a pair! :)</p><p>You recently had a sleep over with Grandma Rose and she was touched when you asked where Grandpa Rose's toothbrush was. She replied that she has put it away and so you had her describe it to you because you just had to know what his tooth brush looked like.</p><p>Yesterday, you made the joke of pretending that Playdough Poop was flying out of Audrey's butt and I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.</p><p>You are in love with the show: VeggieTales and speak a lot about forgiveness and ask questions about God and where things came from and what it all means. Many times I'm only able to answer "That's a good question. I don't know, Jack!"</p><p>I'm starting to think this is reinforcing your suspicion that I don't know what I'm talking about 95% of the time.</p><p>You were so sure I didn't know what I was talking about this morning when I told you not to walk with your eyes closed that you ran smack into a wall when I wasn't looking. I told you that sometimes Mommy's know what they are talking about and you replied with "next time, we should just hold hands so that doesn't happen."</p><p>You can draw like no other child in your class - remarkably recognizable people and dogs and you even drew a picture of Bob and Larry (from VeggieTales, of course)... </p><p>When you absolutely HAVE to do something and you don't want to, you angrily speak very loudly about how you will NEVER, EVER EVER EVER EVER DO THIS, NEVER - while you are putting one foot in front of the other to do that very thing - like go to school.</p><p>If you have more personality, honey, your little body wouldn't be able to hold it!</p><p>Love,</p><p>Mommy</p>Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22256206.post-87307443681641605272009-11-14T15:16:00.002-06:002009-11-16T15:19:26.692-06:00Up at 3 AM and so, for no other reason, I bring you: Twilight: So the Lion Fell In Love with the LambAudrey,<br /><br />Us parents get a little wacky sometimes when the littles get us up at 3AM.<br /><br />Case in point:<br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/XM0a5FcJ9Qs&hl=en_US&fs=1&"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/XM0a5FcJ9Qs&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br />........<br />I have no words.Bridgethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17555692948087601555noreply@blogger.com1