My Boy...

...is almost three. Almost three?? It kills me just to type it.

He is...
A most amazing boy.
One of my greatest sources of joy.
One of my two greatest accomplishments.
He has a smile that lights up a room.
And eyes that dance.
He is sometimes reflective...

Full of silly laughter... A messy eater...

He's at times a bit pouty...

Sometimes a bit more so...

Excited about Christmas presents...

One amazing big brother...

He can be a bit mischevious...

And he's quick to smile...

All in all...he's one awesome little dude!

Happy birthday baby boy! Thank you for all of the laughter!

Walking In Her Shoes

We've all been there. Wal-Mart, the doctors office, the mall...the location varies. We witness this poor, pitiful mother, one kid in the buggy, a sweet smiling baby on her hip, and then...there's her toddler. Screaming to the top of his lungs, stomping his feet, throwing himself on the floor, replying with an emphatic, "NO!!!" to her every request, limbs flailing in every direction, his face contorted into the most unpleasant of faces, covered in a filthy mix of tears, spit and snot. We walk by, disdainfully staring at this train wreck of a child, wondering what his mother did, or most likely didn't do, that she would have a child who would act this way in public. We wonder what brought on his outburst (apparently the devil) and think to ourselves, "That woman needs to do something with that kid! He needs his butt tore up!!". Yes, we snub our noses as if we are better parents, because, "I would never let my kid act that way.". Right??

Yeah, well, not any more. Last Thursday, in the doctor's office, I didn't witness this scene. I was this scene. Yes, my friends, I was this mother, and Brady was this child.

Noah had an appointment for what I suspected was an ear infection. Turns out my suspicion was right, but that's irrelevant.

Brady had to come with me to the appointment, so I went armed. I had his portable DVD player, every movie he owns, an arsenal of snacks, and his beloved blanket and "O-Bear". I just knew I was safe. Yeah. Right.

For the first 20 minutes, my child was an angel. Perfect! Brady sat in the chair with his milk and bear and watched TV. He'd occasionally get down to talk to this sweet little girl, but if he wondered off too far, I just had to say, "B, come back. Sit down and watch TV.", and he'd comply without the slightest hesitation.

Then in comes a mom with three boys, the oldest of whom, was probably about 6 and a bit rowdy. He immediately sought Brady out. (Why Brady is a magnet for these type of kids, I'll never know. It's like he has a smell, or something.) Anyway, the kid starts crawling under the chairs and running around the room. Brady, the 2 year old in perpetual motion, begins following him under the chairs squealing like a pig in the mud. I tell him no, that he can't crawl under the chairs. He stares me down for about a minute and then, deciding that I must not mean business, tries to crawl back under the chairs. Because I have Noah in my lap, I give him one more warning that if he crawls under the chairs again, I'll take him in the bathroom.

Now, he knows, from past experience, that if we go into a public restroom that he's really messed up. He knows that I carry my "spanking spoon" everywhere we go and that it's in the bathroom that I wield it.

It was this one, simple, warning that prompted a fit that could have been included in the movie trailer for Poltergeist. Seriously. It was like I flipped a switch.

He threw himself on the floor, and began to scream at a decibel, that at times, I'm pretty sure, only dogs could hear. He completely ignored my commands to get up and the more I talked, the louder and more violent he became.

I put Noah in the car seat, grabbed the diaper bag, my child off of the floor, who went limp, yet still managed to kick and punch (which made it near impossible to carry him to the bathroom) and picked up the car seat and carried it cross the waiting room to the bathroom, which seemed miles away. Once behind the privacy of the locked door, I pulled his little shorts down and popped his legs twice with the spoon. I waited for him to calm down, which he never did, to talk to him about his behavior. When he became even more violent, I left the room thinking he would follow me. And he did.

He flung the door of the bathroom open, and flung himself onto the floor, screaming even louder than when we went in. At this point I was getting pretty. darn. angry. Not to mention, embarrassed beyond words. (I know, your thinking it must end pretty soon. Right? Well, think again. You obviously don't know Brady very well.)

Since I could do nothing with my child inside, apparently his audience was fueling the fit, I asked another mother, with a well-behaved, sweet, quiet child if she would mind watching Noah for a minute while I went outside with Brady.

We get outside and the screaming continues. I take him around the side of the building, away from the windows and watchful eyes, and grab him by his shoulders. All I wanted was for him to look at me, in the eyes. At this point I just want to calm him down. Somehow, he pries himself away from my grip, throws himself back and smacks his head on a brick column. This sends him into orbit, running and screaming away from me. Remember we're outside. In a parking lot.

So, I have to chase my child, in circles, around the parking lot. 3 times. (Yeah, he's a quick little sucker). Looking back, at this point, I'm thinking we must have looked as if Barnum & Bailey had come to town. I should have charged admission.

I watch in horror, about 15 yards away, as a Suburban pulls into the parking lot. My heart literally. stopped. beating. Thank heavens that the driver was paying attention and slammed on her brakes. If she hadn't, I wouldn't be writing this post from the comfort of my home. Instead, I'd probably be sitting by my child's bedside in ICU. Or worse.

I ran over, grabbed Brady and whisked him inside. As I walk in, the woman who was watching Noah, was holding him and my bag and the nurse was at the door to take us back. I carry them both, crying, to the back. I just left Brady on the floor, screaming as I sat, clutching my stomach, head reeling, waiting for the doctor.

Finally, after Dr. Rhodes arrived, witnessing the fit, and ignored it, it stopped. After he examined Noah, I in tears, recounted the entire story to him and asked for advice. His opinion...Brady was acting out for attention, because of the baby. I should set limits, follow through with consequences when he crosses the line, and then ignore the tantrums. "So he's not a bad child? I don't need to be concerned about his behavior?". No. Apparently not.

If I learned one thing from our circus...don't judge other mothers. They are, most likely, as I am, doing their best to parent their strong willed toddler. They are, most likely, tearing up his butt when he crosses the line. His fit was most likely not caused by anything that his mother did, or did not do. And, now that I've walked a mile in her shoes, instead of disdainfully judging her, and her child, I should pray for her sanity and work on my speed!

Check This Out!

Here's two more recent LO's I've completed. One for each of my precious boys! The kit is Into The Night by Stolen Moments and it's on SALE right now for 30% off! This is absolutely one of my favorite kits!! It's gorgeous!! Perfect for girl pages, boy pages, wedding pages or LO you want to add an easy elegant touch to!

Hello, Perfection:

I Love You:

Images are linked for full credits.

The Love Of A Boy

It seems that with each passing day, my precious little boys do something else to capture my heart. It may be a huge gummy grin or sweet sound from Noah when he first sees me upon waking in the morning, or an unexpected hug or kiss from Brady. But, tonight, my B did something that will forever live in my most precious memories.

Buck was dressing him for bed after his bath. I walked into the room and when he saw me, he squealed with excitement. I walked up to his changing table, and he wrapped his little arms around me. He knew that it was time for bed.

He began humming a song to me as he patted my back and rocked me. Then he began to sing the words. It took me a second to figure out what he was singing. When I realized, tears began to roll down my cheeks. Buck stood there watching with tears in his eyes too.

From the time he was born, I have rocked him and sang the same songs to him, in the same order. After I put him in bed, I sing those songs to him. The first one I sing is one that my mother sang to me as a baby and young girl. She made up the words and the melody. I have never forgotten how comforting it was to be in her warm embrace, listening to the sweet sound of her voice, singing me to sleep with these words:

Buttons and bows,
And pretty blue eyes,
Sunshine and happy times,
Flowers growing wild,
I love my little [Brady],
I love my little [boy],
Always and forever,
My baby you will be.

My sweet little boy sang every word to me, just as I have to him every night now for 29 months. He patted my back, just as I have patted his little bottom each time. It was absolutely the most poignant moment I have ever shared with him. Perhaps, the most poignant moment of my now 30 years. I was stunned. Dumbfounded. Humbled. I have never felt more loved and adored. Never more aware of how my actions, my words, are absorbed and impact the lives of my children.

It was the perfect birthday gift. He couldn't have timed it better if he had tried.

The innocent love of a child, wrapped up in one sweet song.

As I put him in bed, I began to sing the song to him. This time, he sang along with me. As I began to sing the next song, "How Great Thou Art", he again matched me word for word.

As I lay there next to him, gazing at his precious face, listening to that sweet little voice, my heart was as full as it's ever been. I didn't want to leave him. I lingered as long as I could before the cries of another precious boy called me away.

What was this morning day that I didn't want to see come (as I realize that I'm 10 years from 40 and that they're coming faster than ever), turned out to be a day that I don't ever want to forget...all because of the love of a boy.

M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E

You know the song...

And so does Brady! He started singing it today for the first time. :) I grabbed the camera, he stopped, but after a little prompt, he was singing again!

I Was Here

Today, as I was scrapbooking, I was listening to "I Was Here" by Lady Antebellum. I'm sure most of you have heard the song by now. In case you have not, here is bit of the lyrics ...

You will notice me

I'll be leaving my mark, like initials carved in an old oak tree

You wait and see

Maybe I'll write like Twain wrote

Maybe I'll paint like Van Gogh

Cure the common cold

I do not know, but I'm ready to start, because I know in my heart

I want to do something that matters

Say something different

Something that sets the whole world on it's ear

I want to do something better with the time I've been given

I want to touch a few hearts in this life

And leave nothing less than something that says I was here

There was a time that I felt lost. I was searching for my purpose, wondering why God put me on this earth. I spent my days and nights asking, praying, hoping I would find my passion ... or at least a way to feel that my life meant something to someone. A few years ago, maybe I would have heard this song and wondered what I would do to leave my mark on this world, but not anymore.

I do not need to write like Twain wrote, or paint like Van Gogh. Michaelangelo's got nothing on me.

Just look at those two little faces. They are my David, my Mona Lisa, my legacy. They are my mark on this world. Because of them I have done much more than just pass through this life. Even if no one else in this world remembers my name it does not matter, they will.

When I look into their precious faces this life becomes crystal clear. They are my reason. And long after I'm gone little pieces of my heart will still be wandering this world.

There's not a day that goes by that I do not praise God for the blessing of my boys. Being their mother is the greatest honor I could ever receive.

Sunday Funnies

It seems that when I disappear for a few minutes to take care of Noah, Brady will find a way to get himself into trouble.

Take today for instance.

I left the room for five minutes. I changed a dirty diaper and Noah's outfit after he spit up on it.

When I left, Brady was sitting in his chair, drinking his milk and watching Little Einsteins.

When I re-entered the room. My child was standing in between the living room and the dining room with that deer in the headlights look on his face. I knew it couldn't be good!

I noticed something on my floor. As I get closer I noticed that it was covering my entire 8x10 carpet. It looked as though 100 stuffed animals had exploded throughout my house! There were big and small chunks of cotton everywhere! The trail led from the living room, around the couch, into the dining room where it was under the table and even stuck to the walls!! Then I noticed something else...

Tiny, wet, gel beads mixed in with the cotton...what appeared to be MILLIONS of tiny beads.

Finally, it hit me...

It wasn't a stuffed animal that had exploded, it was my child's diaper!!

Only it hadn't exploded...he had ripped a hole in the bottom of it!

I'm still not sure how he managed to spread it throughout the house and onto the walls in five minutes time, but he did!

Maybe I'll start potty-training sooner than I thought!

First Time For Everything...

...Even falling off the couch, scraping your knee on a puzzle piece and requiring a Band-Aid (or 6 because you wouldn't leave it on, but continued to whine and cry for nearly an hour that it "hurts you!" every time you pulled the Band-Aid off and tried to pull the loose skin off of your knee).

Brotherly Love

As a mother, it's beautiful to watch the love between your children.

When it comes to his brother, Brady's little heart is full of love and wonder. Never once has he acted jealous or malicious towards this new little one who takes up so much of my time. In fact, he's already protective of Noah. He gets flustered when he cries. He'll come running to wherever I am and say, "Mommy, Noah's mad! Noah's mad!" and then run back to Noah to try and sooth him with his paci as he tells his little brother, "It's okay Noah.". Seeing them together fills my heart with indescribable joy!

The other morning I was able to capture this precious moment between them...

Wordless Wednesday--The BIG And little Of It

All I Have Seen

"All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Birthday Party Re-Do

I know it's been a while since I've blogged, but I have a lot less time on my hands lately! It seems that I'm either chasing around a very busy 2 year old, nursing a 2 week old, pumping so that I can store up for a few date nights, (yes, I'm once again a milk maid) or trying to keep a semi-clean house. With two kids it seems that there's just not enough time in the day!

However, it was a little easier with my mom here for two weeks to help out and we were finally able to throw Brady the 2nd birthday party he deserved! He had a blast and I enjoyed seeing the smile on his sweet little face!

I had made all of the decorations over a month ago, just before going on bed rest. My mom and I had the best time putting them all up and decorating the house for our little monkey! The best part was celebrating a special day with her and Noah!

Thanks again, Z! We love and miss you!!

Here are a few pictures to enjoy...

An Uncanny Resemblance

I still can't believe how much Brady and Noah resemble one another at this age. Right after Noah was born I just kept saying that I couldn't believe how much he and Brady looked alike.

And they still do...

Not exactly alike...they each have their own little look, but in some of these early pictures, they could be identical twins! If I didn't separate the two and put them in folders labeled Brady and Noah, in a few years I wouldn't know who was which!

The first picture is Brady, the second Noah, both just minutes after birth. I know that Noah's is a little far away, but if you enlarge it, you can see what I mean.

2 And Type A

What can I say...

He's my child.

Over the past few weeks we've noticed behavior that probably, usually, isn't exhibited by a two year old. B has definitely shown us some Type A personality tendencies. For example:

His obsession with things that are "broken" and his intense need to "fix" them. And I use the terms loosely.

It always happens with his food. He'll eat a piece a toast, or a banana or a piece of cheese down the middle and when it breaks in half, he gets very upset and refuses to eat it until one of us fixes it. He trys for several minutes to stick the two pieces back together and when that doesn't work, he brings it to me or Buck, nearly in tears and says, "Broken, Mommy. Fix it!". Once it's taken away and just one of the two pieces brought back, he (assuming we fixed it) is happy and resumes eating. We frequently go through the same scenario with chalk and crayons. Once they're "fixed", he resumes his art project.

The other day we were cleaning out closets to make room for Noah's things. We were almost finished with the last closet. Brady enters the room and begins his inspection of our work. He's scanning the bottom of the closet, presumably scouring for something to get into, when he stops cold in his tracks. He forcefully points his chubby little finger at something and launches into a babbling tirade in which neither of us has any clue what he's talking about. After a few minutes of me shaking my head and saying, "I know, B" (my standard answer when I have no clue), he grabs my hand and pulls me over to the closet. "BROKEN! FIX IT!". I still have no clue. "Nothing's broken, B. It's fine.". "BROKEN! FIX IT!". After repeating several times, he goes to the shoe rack and grabs Buck's boots, which are sitting in front of the shoe rack. "FIX IT!!", he shouts, this time with desperation in his little voice. I still don't get it. The boots are brand new...they're not broken. Finally, he picks one up and starts trying to shove it onto the shoe rack. Now I get it! He was upset because the boots were in front of the shoe rack and not on the rack like the other shoes. I help him sit the boots on top of the rack. He looks up at me with smiling blue eyes and says, "Thank you, Mommy" and walks away.

They don't use rods to hang drapes and curtains here in Germany. Instead you hang them using little clips suspended from a track. Often the fabric will slip loose from one of the clips.

We were playing in our bed a few days ago when suddenly Brady again forcefully points his finger toward the ceiling and shouts...you guessed it..."Broken!" Buck replies, "Nope the ceiling isn't broken. It's fine." Again, "Broken!" This time, I knew exactly what B was talking about. It had been driving me nuts for days, but I can't reach the track at the top of 11 foot ceilings, in order to fix it. One of the clips in the middle of the curtain had come loose. "You've got to kidding me.", Buck says as he looks at me in disbelief. "Try it.", I say. He gets up, puts the clip back on the curtain..."Thank you, Daddy!", says the smiling boy.

And finally, he organizes and groups things according to type.

We were putting something together (I can't remember what it was) that required the tool box. B loves tools, particularly screw drivers. (And why wouldn't he love tools...they fix things!) He took all of the screw drivers out of the box and after about 30 minutes of taking them over to the radiator, sticking them in top, pulling them out and laying them on the floor, we noticed something. He was lining them up according to handle type! All of the grey and yellow ones together, the red and black in their own group and the various handled ones individually in a neat little row.

It's almost scary.

I'll admit that I have OCD tendencies and that I'm totally Type A. Okay, maybe even A+ as Buck says, but I don't think I was that way at 2. I think mine started in elementary school. I can remember in first grade crying and asking my teacher to let me stay in at recess to re-do work that I had "messed-up". It wasn't good enough if I had one color mark outside the lines, if I had too many eraser marks...I'm still that way. I can't leave something alone until it's perfect. Even if that means having to do it 101 times. I hate clutter and things that don't have a place. I organize my "junk" drawers, my closet by color and type, and even my dishwasher. I clean the house and two days later feel that it's so dirty I can't breathe in here. I struggle with keeping the bookshelves perfectly in line and the toys that are stuck in a corner in the living room. (I really can't wait to move to get that play room!) I'm getting better about that, but some days, I just can't take it! I hate group projects or having to depend on someone to do something that my name is attached to. I can't delegate responsibility. I'm overly critical...especially of myself. It's a bit of a sickness really.

I hope for B's sake, that it's just a phase and he outgrows it. But, he's probably not going to. I think he's probably just genetically hard wired that way. I got it from my mom, who got it from her father. My sister is the same way.

As his mom, I will have to find ways to re-assure him that he doesn't have to be perfect...that I don't expect him to be perfect...just to be his best. I don't want his childhood to be stressful, just fun. I want him to enjoy making messes and not want to clean them up. I want him to think outside the box, to color outside the lines. I'm just not sure how to make him do it. After all, they learn from what you do, not what you say, and I don't know to change who God created me to be. I don't know how to relax and let the mess sit there.

And, after writing and reading this post, I realize that I have A LOT of work to do to get myself to that point. But, for the sanity of my children, I'm willing to put in the time.

(And if I've mispelled a bunch, and I'm sure I have, forgive me...my spell checker won't work! And in the spirit of not being so much of a perfectionist, I won't go back and re-read this at least 10 times to make sure it's perfect.)

Cuckoo For Cocoa Puffs

Like I've said before, Buck's been doing the grocery shopping lately, hence the sugary, chocolate cereal.

Yesterday, Brady was pilfering through the pantry and came across these. He brought the box back into the living room, sat down on the couch and dug right in.

He was so happy with himself that I just couldn't bear to rip the box away, so I let him have a few moments of chocolate bliss with his Cocoa Puffs.

Every kid deserves a little chocolatey sugar every now and then, right?

Snow Baby

How is it that a sweet little boy playing in the cold, cold snow can melt my heart?

The fact that I'm his mama may have something to do with it, but these pictures are precious, if I may say so.

The snow finally stopped long enough for Buck to take Brady outside for about an hour Saturday afternoon! They had the best time making giant snow balls, swinging, tromping through thigh-high snow and eating icicles, or as B called them screwdrivers. haha Don't ask...that's his new thing.

I sent my camera out with Buck and told him to take a few shots. He came back with over 80 images for me to sort through! I picked out my favorites to edit and share with you.

Hope they make you smile and feel all warm and fuzzy too!

In the first picture he's just mad because he fell down and got stuck!

I Don't Know How He Did It

The other morning Brady was playing with the swing turning it on and off. No big deal.

We decided to put it out a few weeks early so that maybe by the time Noah arrives he'd be used to it...and leave it alone.

I look over at him after about 2 minutes and this is how I find him...IN the swing!

I still have NO IDEA how he got in there.

See that plastic bar with the stars on it. You know, the one that's there to keep babies in, or as I thought toddlers out. Turns out it doesn't work very well. It was attached, snapped tightly in place and Brady STILL got in there and positioned his legs around it.

He was thrilled with himself! He'd make it rock as hard as he could and yell, "SVING!" (No that's not a typo, that's how he says swing. :)

He's such a little monkey!

Happy Birthday, B!

I'm a few days late on this post.

Brady's birthday was on the 17th.

We had a party planned.

It was going to be adorable! A little sock monkey theme. I worked for a week on the decorations. The day before we made cupcakes and cookie bars. I had started putting up the decorations and then...

I started having regular contractions and ended up in labor & delivery...again.

So we had to cancel the party.

I was heartbroken. I so wanted my baby to have fun party on his big day. I even had the cutest little sock monkey shirt made for him to wear to the party.

We had to postpone his first birthday party as well...he had pneumonia and was released from the hospital just two days before.

But, luckily, both times we've at least managed a cake, or this year, cupcakes, balloons, and a few people who love him to cheer him on as he blows out his candles. Last year my mom took it upon herself to make sure he had a small celebration and this year, our friends, the Steinhauers came by with a wonderful dinner, gifts and their precious little one, Chase...who by the way is smart, beautiful and my future daughter-in-law! :) She and Brady had the best time playing with his new easel that we got him and hiding out in our bedroom. At one point we caught them kissing in the corner of our room! Yep, that's right...kissing! Brady had his little arm around her, stroking her hair and they were kissing!!

And Brady LOVED blowing out his candle. We had to sing "Happy Birthday" to him at least a dozen times and cheer as he blew out that candle!

I know B didn't know the difference, but I'm gonna make it up to him.

We're planning on rescheduling the party either when my mom's here or sometime after Noah's born. We might move it to the bowling alley too, since he loved bowling so much.

Most important to me is that my baby knows how much he is loved and that his birthday is my favorite day of the year. It's the day my life changed forever. The day I knew what God had put me on this earth for.

Reluctant Mother

Multiple times each and every day, I'm on the couch (as I'm supposed to be at the moment), and Brady decides that he wants me off of the couch.

He walks up to me, grabs my finger, and says, "puuuuullll!", as he tries with all of his might to pull me off of the couch. If I don't get up as quickly as he thinks I should he then says, as he looks at me with the sweetest look I've ever seen, "Tum, Mommy!". So reluctantly, I come. And I follow as he guides me where ever it is that he wants me to go thinking that I wish he'd just let me be.

Today, as I was begrudgingly tagging along behind as he drug me to our bed, he kept turning around and looking up at me over his shoulder. I looked down at that little smiling face and those chubby little fingers wrapped around mine and realized that I shouldn't be so reluctant.

One day, sooner than I'd like, it won't be my hand that he's wanting to hold, or me that he'll want to go snuggle in bed with or just sit with him as he plays.

So, I'll go and follow just as long as he'll let me.

Love At First Bite

A few mornings ago, Brady got to try out his first donut.

I know...

Every child needs to eat donuts occasionally; and what kind of mother am I to have deprived him of this sweet experience for two years?

It's just that we don't keep too much junk food around the house, so donuts don't usually make the grocery list. Brady gets his fill of sweet treats occasionally, but I don't want it to become a habit.

However...

With me on partial bed rest, Buck has been the one to do the grocery shopping, and when Daddy makes the list, somehow, lots more junk food appears in the pantry!

I will say that I enjoyed every second of watching this little monkey devour his chocolate donut. As you can see from the pictures, it was love at first bite!