co-sleeping

Are you familiar with the term "co-sleeping?"
This phrase was not a part of my vocabulary until recently.
To quote the always reliable Wikipedia, "co-sleeping is a practice in which babies and young children sleep close to one or both parents, as opposed to in a separate room."
Doesn't that sound like fun?
Not only do I get to spend every nano-second, all day, every day with my babies, I get to sleep with their feet in my mouth and their breathing thisclose to my face.
I am pretty sure I have told you all (and everyone in the line at the grocery store, and the entire congregation at church, and all the moms at the bus stop, well you get the idea ...) that my baby is possessed. 
He very literally cries all day.
He is only content when I am holding him.
And just when I have him tucked into bed, he wakes up and cries. Again.
I am not really sure why he is so unsettled. 
I don't consider myself to be a child-rearing expert but I am pretty sure this behavior is not normal.
So, I have resorted to co-sleeping with Micah, so that when he wakes up every 12 minutes, he will see me sleeping next to him, kick me in the back, and then go back to sleep.
Don't judge.
On an unrelated note entirely, Ryan is really enjoying kindergarten. 
I never blogged about her starting school (along with a mile-long list of other events) because I am still experiencing computer slash internet connection defunct-ment, not because they are unimportant.
I digress.
Ryan is like a shining star in her kindergarten class.
I mean, I assume she is because she comes home and tells me everyday about all the naughty kids in her class and their appalling behavior and how she would certainly never act like them. 
She attends all day, and even rides the bus. 
Her teacher, Mrs. Roddy, tells me that Ryan is an angel, a smart angel.
And Ezra is the model student of a different variety.
I am home-preschooling him and he actually likes his workbook and activities.
He positively shines with individual attention and soaks up them teachins' like a sponge.
He turns into a sugary sweet, sharing, helpful brother/son as soon as Ryan leaves in the morning and he has unchallenged remote-control access, random trips to the driving range with Daddy, and no one taking toys away from him.
And Micah, well, we all know what he does all day, poor thing.
And as for me, I am just working on little projects here and there.
For our home.
That we don't have.
And more importantly, I cut off my hair. 
I love my new Miley-esque 'do. 
I seriously hacked it off and haven't looked back. 
It takes no time to style and when I am done, I actually like the results.
{Insert picture of me fist-pumping in front of the mirror every day after I get out of the shower}.
It is that big of a deal.
And Scott is finally a licensed doctor. (Thanks to the state of Washington and their competent and well-organized licensing department, we only had to wait twiddling our thumbs for 4 1/2 months!)
He has been down to Tumwater a few times now and is a working optometrist. 
Oh well, whatev. 
Oh also, Scott would probably want me to tell you about something he would find even more important ... the big fish he caught.
 Last week. 
A salmon. 
That he then later cooked for us. 
After de-boning it's bloody, fishy body in the sink.
As in so happy, that he requested a portrait of the two of them, him sporting the biggest, proudest smile I have seen, well ever. Yep, probably not even at our wedding.
Silly guy.
My family is a bunch of lunatics.

Oh Ezra ...

This one is all about Ezra.

Why? Well, because he just turned four ...ahem, in August.

I am on a roll.

Anyway, where to start?
 

Ezra is wild, spirited, enthusiastic, one who never stops talking, exhausting strong willed a sweet boy.

He loves his family and ends every night by saying, "I love you, do you know that?"
His words exactly.
He also insists on sleeping with his blanket, and his two "kids," a Scottish Highland cow affectionately named Frodo, and a diaper-wearing bear named Nicolas?

And although he has a tender heart, he is also a boy.

Which would explain why on more than one occasion I hear what sounds like Ryan crying, Micah crying, and Ezra laughing manically in the next room.

He is definitely an instigator.

And he lies about it.

"Mommy, I didn't touch Ryan. And I definitely didn't hit her in the face with a pillow."

"I didn't take Micah's toothbrush away from him."

"I am not sure how Ryan's barbie ended up nudie."

Nice.

He is also the pickiest. eater. ever.

He tells me every night, "Please don't ever make (fill in the blank with every meal I have ever made) again."

He only loves breakfast food, pizza, and treats.
Oh, and did I mention that he is also obsessed with video games?
Like as in, I have to rip the Wii remote from his frantic death-grip every time he tricks Scott into letting him play.
His life has only one purpose, and that purpose is to save Peach from Bowzer's tyrannical enslavement.
Can I get a "good grief?"
Anyway, although he is one independent little mister, he has my heart in a way no one else does.
I can't imagine my life without my Ezzy.
I love to hear him say hangaber (the correct way to say hamburger), witches, and anything the involves the letter "L."
He is a happy boy, unless he is irate ... which can happen in a split second ... he's kind of an extreme child ... like his father. Just sayin'.
But he has the brightest smile and gives THE BEST kisses.

His golfing birthday cupcakes.
I'll admit, they turned out better than I thought they would.
Although with my sister's master skills, I should have known they would be stellar.
(p.s. Scott so kindly informed me that the "grass" cupcakes should have been darker and the cupcakes representing the "green" should have been lighter. And to that I say, whatev. Look, I made golf cupcakes. What more do you want from me? Just kidding.)

This picture perfectly embodies Ezra.
A big cheesy grin, a black eye, and treats, golfing treats no less.
This boy loves him some golf.
Scott actually took Ez to the driving range that morning (where he acquired said black eye). And out to lunch at McDonald's for a happy meal.
He was in birthday heaven.
Although truth be told, we had to make up for his lousy, sweaty birthday last year, which involved a cranky newborn brother and melted cupcakes in our blistering, miniature apartment. Fun.

Happy birthday to our Fezzy Wig. We love you!
 

Micah is 1 ... a month ago!

My babiest baby is one.

Already.

And besides his delicious dimples and top two beaver teeth with a cavernous gap between them, I also want to remember:

1. He doesn't walk quite yet. We are half-way there. Instead he makes his way around using both hands and feet with his buns wagging in the air, kinda like a spider would, if that spider were a baby.

2. He loves cheese. He is a great eater and will try anything once, but he saves his deep, and tender feelings of affection for cheese ... string cheese. This is no joke.

3. He rearranges the kitchen. This is quite adorable. Especially when your frantically whipping up dinner, which you said would be ready 30 minutes ago and you have looked high and low for the potato masher only to find it in the toliet ... tomorrow. True story.

4. He loves me. Really, he is the biggest mama's boy that ever lived on the face of the earth. He is like a leech, in an endearing way. Except when I am trying to use the bathroom. And he is outside the door screaming, or has somehow fought his way in and is now sitting in my lap. Awesome.

5. He is all boy. And by that I mean destructive, with a capitol D.

6. He loves his siblings. Especially Ryan. He thinks she is just the best thing next to sliced bread, er ... cheese.

7. He gives a mean headbutt. That is how he shows you he likes you.

8. He is a terrible sleeper. He wakes up still two and three times a night, looking for ... you guessed it, me. But he makes up for it by being so delectable. His squinty-eyed smile gets me every time. Too bad he isn't doing that at 2:30 in the morning.

9. He has to have the last word. No, he doesn't actually speak words, but will continue making noises until you stop talking.

Me: "Micah, I am getting the string cheese out of the fridge, so stop screeching."

Him: "Mmahh!"

Me: "Shhhh!"

Him: "Neh!"

Me: "Micah, shhh."

Him: "Eeehhhh."

Me: (giving him a scowl in resignation.)

Him: "Mehhh!

10. He is a great car baby. And a good travel companion. He is by far my most patient child when participating in my weekly Goodwill visits. He is pretty content while running errands or shopping. But as soon as we get home the complaining starts. Apparently, being at home is lame.

11. He is pretty good at getting his hair cut. This could be due to frequency, because I insist on trimming it at least once a month. My issues, not his (OCD).

12. He is a biter. No he doesn't bite just anyone, only me. His teeth grew in much ealier than his siblings. This was a real treat while nursing. And once I discovered his love of chomping, he was magically weened. Now he just sinks his teeth into my shoulder, which is also fun.

13. And just for good measure, he is my snuggliest. He loves a good cuddle. And I love to give it (except when use the facilities, as mentioned above).

We just love our baby Micah and don't really want him to get any bigger. He is awesome. And so handsome. I mean it. Love, love, love him.

Happy Belated Birthday baby boy!

Family pictures

Hellooooo, again.

Remember me?

Well, let's just say we are still somewhere in bloggy-limbo ('cause despite the fact that Marlene and George have spoiled us rotten with a new camera, we now ironically have no internet on our desktop where blog posts are born).

So until we have our own diggs, I will continue uploading pictures to our desktop, gaze at them lovingly, and then blog about how much you would love them too.

And then type a quick post on my FIL's computer while he is napping.

And speaking of limbo, that is kinda the name of the game with our life in general these days.

Now that Scott has GRADUATED (yes, I am painfully aware that I have yet to post about that momentous occasion), and we are still waiting on his medical license, we have set up camp at his parents in Seattle.

I am sure they secretly love that we are here.

It is evident by the manic look in their eyes.

We have interrupted their quiet life with chaos.

Someone is always crying, dropping food on the floor, yelling from the bathroom for "assistance," leaving the front door wide open, watching Power Rangers (which for me would be an automatic dealbreaker), misplacing tools from the garage ... well you get the idea, we are super fun house guests.

And as for me, I am friendless (much to Scott's chagrin) and find myself without structure and wandering around the house in a sports bra and hot pants which I have been told makes my father-in-law uncomfortable is socially unacceptable and sorta sad.

However, we are looking forward to moving in the fall to Tumwater, WA where Scott has been offered a job, so that's a relief.

To all.

I'm sure.

Anyway, despite my relationship with electronics, I do have some pictures to show off.

Before leaving Forest Grove, my talented friend Lisa took some family photos for us.

I LOVE how they turned out.

Seriously. so. good.

It helps that Lisa is super fun, easy-going, and brought candy.

And yes, I overheard the phrase, "Scott, you can have a ring pop when this is over, if you cooperate."

So without further ado, my beee-utiful family:

Micah cooperated perfectly, but would not crack a smile despite our best efforts.

We were behind Lisa jumping around like a couple of lunatics, which was obviously not funny.

Ezra is so handsome.

The older two really did behave perfectly.

Isn't this stairwell, awesome?

I told Lisa I was looking for an "urban" feel for our pictures, and she delivered by taking us to, and I quote, "a disgusting alley. Which is awesome."

And is was. So awesome.

It was exactly what I wanted.

Yes, we are still growing Ryan's hair out.

I am actually liking her with no bangs.

I look like a nut job, but this is one of the few where Micah is smiling.

And Ezra is playing in the dirt.

Score.

This is one of my favorites.

Look at Micah's face.

He is clearly enjoying himself, that or plotting Lisa's demise.

And this one is just sweet.

Thank you Lisa.

Peace out.

(I am going to work on a new sign off, I sound like a hoodlum.)

there are no pictures included once again

I miss my blog.
I haven't given him any attention lately.
And it isn't for lack of writing material.
Not that our lives are riddled with adventure, but we get around (in the non-promiscuous way).
And yet, I have no photographic evidence of these activities ... again.
But this time, I have a real excuse.
My camera is officially broken.
The timing is impeccable.
The life of said camera may or may not have ended right after a certain husband was asked to "fix" the broken device because the zoom was permanently zoomed, shook it with considerable force, tried to push the lens back into place, cracked the viewfinder, muttered something that sounded like, "sonuva" and dropped it into the trash.
Oh well, it was on the fritz anyhow.
Now once we start making the big bucks we can purchase a new one.
Until then I can paint the pictures with my words, or borrow a camera from my dad.
We choose the latter.
However I have yet to figure out how to upload the pics from the camera to my computer, so until then prepare to be spellbound with prose.
Since I last checked in, we have celebrated an anniversary (our 9th ... which we commemorated with a non-romantic dinner at a Mexican restaurant listening to all of our children whine whilst trying to coax them to eat their nachos ... I mean what child doesn't like nachos?), mother's day (on which I was able to take a heavenly three-hour nap), and finally GRADUATION!
GRADUATION deserves it's own post (along with all caps), so I will save that special day for later.
But I am still so excited about Dr. Scott earning his O.D. that maybe I will talk about it just a little.
And then I will talk about it again with pictures.
And let's face it, I will probably talk about it for years to come.
Lucky you.
After 9 long years of schooling, we (and I say we because I am absolutely an essential part of this equation, thankyouverymuch) are finished!
I still can't really believe that there will be no more late nights studying, stressful tests, paying tuition, or say a six-month-long period of time where I have to parent singlehandedly while Scott treats patients another state away.
I am so proud of Scott and all that he has accomplished.
He graduated with distinction (which means he had a helluva high GPA) and snagged a big fat award for "demonstrating excellence in the pursuit of primary care skills" which loosely translates to mean that he is a kick a** doctor.
And good job me. I am tired.
Taking care of this lunatic family while Scott is M.I.A. is nothing to sneeze at.
But we did it.
And now we are moving on.
Where to, you may ask?
Well, we are going to run for the border and head to Washington shortly to fulfill a grant obligation.
So we will no longer be students for the first time in our married life.
Exciting.

So until next time I will be fiddling around with the lent camera and I will, so help me, retrieve those pictures of GRADUATION.
Bye.

two years

I miss you Mom. Every single day. I still get the urge to call you when something exciting/bad/good/boring happens. I wish I could ask you about all your mothering tricks. Being a mom is really hard. You made it look easy. And just when we are about to finish school, raise our kids, move, basically when things were starting to get interesting ... I wish you were here. But don't worry, you are. I love you more than I can say.

and that is how the longest post about absolutely nothing is written

I wanted to be able to cross an item off my TO DO list tonight and blogging was the easiest task to accomplish while eating ice cream ...
so, having said that I will now proceed to document what we have been up to in the last month with, wait for it ... three pictures.
And they aren't even all mine.
And my super crappy camera is on the fritz.
Which, now that I think of it makes sense, since it is a piece of trash.
But also makes me a little sad because I have zero proof that I was indeed on top of Easter this year with the cutesy-baskets-egg-dyeing-make-it-to-church-on-time-dressed-to-the-nines bit.
Darn it.
So instead I will gift you with this awesome picture of my baby.
He is already eight months old!
He is amazing.
Sitting up, feeding himself, rolling all over, and tonight he pushed himself into a sitting position from his tummy.
I believe he has had a breakthrough.
We are on the verge of crawling.
Thisclose, people.
Just look at those delicious dimples and baby boobies.
He is SO CUTE. I can't stand it.
Next we have a pretty picture of me and a few girlfriends.
We are incredibly mature and spent at least an hour playing with scotch tape.

Some people watch movies or go out to dinner.
Me, I like to tape my nose up like a pig and take snap shots in the middle of the night.
Porker.
And most recently, I went to see Wicked!
It was my first Broadway musical and it was incredible!
Not only was it hysterically funny, but the talent was insane.
So. much. fun.
I even came home to bathed, jammied, sleeping children and a semi-clean home, which was the icing on the cake.
I am really going to miss my girlfriends once we graduate, get a job, move, and become adults in the real world.
I am going to be a total loner.
Oh well, at least I have my memories and my two pictures.
and p.s. I put the kids in swimming lessons. together.
Ryan is positively thriving.
She is willing, excited, and comfortable in the water.
Ezra is absolutely the opposite.
On Monday he screamed the entire 30 minutes and even threw in a few racking fake-sobs.
His teacher loves him.
I will try to capture some of his enthusiasm on tape.
peace out.

Thirty, Shmirty

I think that nowadays, thirty is the new twenty.
At least that is what I tell myself every time I remember I am now officially an adult.
And although I don't feel or look (in my very honest opinion) any older than I did in high school, I must accept that in reality I have aged a bit.
But, on the up side, I have reached a few adult-like milestones along the way.
I have a college degree.
I have been married for nearly nine years.
I have three incredible kids.
I live in a dump of an apartment ... wait ...
Anyway, I am quite excited.
I am on the cusp of a new phase in my life, a better phase.
Ha.
Okay, that was a bunch of baloney.
People only say things like that when they are trying to convince themselves that they aren't that old (pointing both thumbs toward chest).
That, and I really just wanted to use the word "cusp" 'cause it almost sounds a little dirty.
Moving on.
The day before the big 3-0, my dad and Heather surprised me by coming up to Forest Grove with prezzies and an ice cream cake (of course I didn't mean they actually traveled all the way from Eugene with an ice cream cake, that would be a disaster).
And anyone who knows me well, knows my disdain for traditional birthday cake and my undying devotion to all icy treats.
It was delish!
Then my amazing sister concocted another brilliant plan to celebrate my big birthday.
She always does something awesome for me.
But she outdid herself this year.
She arranged (with the help of my hubby and yes, my dad and Heather) for a girls weekend, with ... wait for it .... NO KIDS!
Pure bliss.
I mean I love my kids, but I also love to be away from them once in a while.
And it had been a while.
Anyway, I desperately raced down to Eugene, as fast as I could without getting pulled over.
The first night, we stayed up way too late, eating way too much candy and talked.
Then we headed out the next morning to drop of Micah at my parents (thank you, Dad and Heather) before hitting the mall for a movie and manicures.
We saw the ultimate chick-flick: "This Means War" was hilarious (especially if you had asked the very alone, middle-aged man to my right, who was positively screaming with laughter at every funny anecdote).
Chelsea Handler is the funniest woman on the planet.
All I'm gonna to say.
And this is a re-enactment of my manicure.
Except picture my nails blue.
And more professional-looking.
And yes, the ring finger is a different color on purpose.
I saw this style on a blog and wanted to try it out.
Because I am fashion-forward and hip even in my thirties.
Except that truly hip people probably don't use the word hip.
I am turning into my mother.

Later that evening, after cruising the mall, we met up with the rest of Britney's fam, my dad and Heather, and my bro Brady and his family for dinner.
I had the best bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries. EVER.
Then we headed back to my dad's for, you guessed it, ice cream sundaes.

We even managed to squeeze in a little craft before I had to head back.
We etched these little glasses (that Ezra found at the Goodwill) with my kids initials.
Cool, right?
And back at home, Scotty met me with two very happy kids (who later informed me that Daddy let them eat pizza, in the living room, all weekend) and the last two Harry Potter movies!
I was truly spoiled.
I love my family.
And I am going to love my thirties.
I am.

Our new (old) pad

And when I say old, I mean disgusting.
We moved back to Forest Grove, again, for Scott's FINAL rotation.
That's right, people, in a mere three months he will graduate and become an official eye doctor, and I will bust out a manic/delirious celebratory dance as I point and laugh at wave good-bye to all my remaining optometry friends.
Just kidding.
Though it has been a loooong road.
But I digress.
Back to my jacked-up apartment.
I am guessing it was built over 40 years ago, and has not had new carpeting since.
Awesome.
My baby has been crying ever since we moved here.
He is possessed. He hates it here as much as I do.
It smelled like a smoky bowling alley.
We are definitely living in Ghettoville, not to be confused with Crazytown, which is where my upstairs pajama-pants-loving, chain-smoking neighbors with the loud hanky panky at all hours of the night, live.
On with the tour.
Our living room:

Yes that is a sweet fireplace, which Scott insists on using.
He likes to, and I quote, "Unwind after a long day in front of a cozy fire."
Oh brother.
We also have amazing track lighting as well.

The only thing of note in this photo is my new clock.
Very mid-century.
That and our massive tangle of extension cords that power all the electronic devices in the room.
This is the kitchen slash dining room.
If it looks cluttered that is because it is.
Apparently people didn't need storage in the '70s.
And yes, that is my jogging stroller under the counter.

The tub in our bathroom.
WTH?
The brown "marbled" Formica is a treat, but nothing compares to the sheer size of our bathtub.
Our entire family could fit in here comfortably.
The kids love it.
I am confused.
Here is the reason for tolerating Hidden Pines.
A washer and dryer.
It may not seem like much, but it is what sold me on this place ... that and a month-to-month rental agreement.
Seriously, the apartment situation around here is slim-picking.

This is Scott's favorite amenity (other than the fireplace): our intercom system.
I have yet to use it. (Although Scott used it aplenty during our move by yelling, "Get the led out of your pants," and "Briiiiaaaaaannnne, can you hear me?" through it. Fun.)
I am not sure why a miniature apartment would need an intercom system when all I have to do to call the kids is turn around, but there you have it.
It also boasts a kitchen radio, which I will admit I do use.

Another shot of our living room.
I love my new rug and coffee table dish.
Another mid-century piece I snagged for my birthday (more on that later).

And finally, the face I wake up to every morning.
Sponge Bob, on the back of my door = classy.

And a few of the kids faking happiness in this dump.
He just woke up from a nap.
Isn't he getting big?

My princess, in another shot she took of herself.

And one of all three kids, doing what they do best ... ignoring me.
Well, now that we are settled, I am going to re-recommit to updating this blog a little more often.
In fact, I just had a little birthday (I am 30!) and want to brag about record all the nice things my family did for me.
Be back soon!

Watch and be amazed

Okay, so I am back to post something super important.
Change your life important, people.
These next few anticdotes will make you laugh, perhaps cry, and maybe even pee your pants a little.
Just take my word for it.
And prepare to be here for a few minutes.
Minutes well worth it.
What am I talking about?
I'll just come out and say it:
YouTube.
I am not typically a watcher of YouTube, but every once in a while something crosses my path and then I have to tell everyone I know to watch it too, while simultaneously confirming to them what a weirdo I am with my immature sense of humor.
Well, having said that, let's move along.

Numero uno: The Honey badger.
As a preface to this video, please pardon the narrator's French.
And by French, I absolutely mean profanity.
He drops the F-bomb twice.
So if you don't like cursing (I for one, love it) then you may just want to watch it anyway.
It is effing hilarious.

The Honey Badger

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4r7wHMg5Yjg

(Just copy and paste the link I guess, 'cause I am not much of a computer techie and don't know how to post videos. Sorry I am such a loser.)

Next on the ticket?
The Sexy Sax Man.
You may have seen the spin-off on SNL, but this is much better.
So. Funny.

Sexy Sax Man

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GaoLU6zKaws

And lastly is the band Walk Off The Earth.
This video isn't so much funny as it is awesome.
They all have really cool scratchy, sexy voices.
And are all playing the guitar ... the same guitar.
My dad and Heather showed me this one and I watched it like half a dozen times.
A little part of me wishes I could scream-sing too.

Somebody That I Used to Know - Walk Off The Earth

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9NF2edxy-M

You're welcome.

So. Long .

So I am back for what is becoming a bi-monthly check in.
If that.
We are living in an actual house here in Eugene, with a lot more square footage and a second bathroom.
Cleaning it is obviously taking all my extra time.
That and playing on my new Kindle Fire.
Which is why I cannot blog.
So be forewarned that this is a catch-up post and will be approximately 52 pages long (or the equivalent) with far too many pictures.
Where to begin?
How about a Christmas butt shot.
You're welcome Dad.

The cute grandpas and all the kids watching Merry Madagascar.
For the twelfth time.
In fact, I am pretty sure we all had this little treasure memorized by the time Christmas was over.
Next was gingerbread houses (or hot glue-gunned graham cracker houses, whatev,)
And a picture of the other Uncle Scott (a.k.a. Mitchell Mitchell) taking a picture.
His pics were far superior to my little snapshots.
Look at that rad camera.

Ezra's candy-laden house.
Now watch carefully.

3.5 seconds later the candy has disappeared.
If that isn't a guilty face than I'm a monkey's uncle.

Ryan and Annie posing with their masterpieces.
This year, the older girls were able to decorate their houses all by themselves!

This is what my dad was doing while we were laughing/screaming/listening to carolers singing at the door decorating said gingerbread houses.
Yeesh.
I think one grandchild may have even given him a pile driver to the groin yet he continued to sleep.
It had been a very long day.

On Christmas eve, the kids opened their special jammies.
For the first time, we had our own little Christmas at home.
We watched a sweet video about the birth of Christ, and put out cookies and milk for Santa.
Every year the holidays get better and better.
The older the kiddies get, the more excited they become which in turn leads to loads more fun.

Christmas morning was also spent at home.
Ezra received a bike from craigslist Santa.
He also received a dart gun, which I certainly regret buying because it inspired Scott to go purchase a second one with which he may or may not hide behind the couch waiting for me to come out of the bathroom only to shoot me in the head like the child he is.
That and I find those damn neon-orange suction darts in every crevice of this house.
And p.s., Ezra's helmet is indeed an angry gorilla face that is truly heinous and has been banished to the garage.
Ryan received a lot of Ariel the Mermaid paraphernalia.
As well as a treasure box I lovingly made for her to keep every single thing anyone has ever given her keepsakes in.
Papa and Heather also gifted the kids with a lot of fun new games.

Scotty looking handsome, and possibly gearing up for another round of Hungry, Hungry Hippo.

And a partridge in a pear tree.

Moving on.
Baby Micah has started solids.
He was not impressed at first, and lets face it, still remains unimpressed.
Swallowing the food still continues to be a challenge.
He spends the majority of the time spitting it out onto his hands and smearing it around on his face and in his hair.
You know, typical baby stuff.

What did I tell you.
Not. Impressed.

And on the hair front, Ryan is still growing hers out.
We tried experimenting with the straightening iron, just for kicks, and Ryan loved it.
She kept running her fingers through her hair and examining herself in the mirror.
She couldn't believe how "long" her hair looked.
She is the prettiest little thing I have ever seen.
I can't stand it.
So cute.
Seriously, I can't stop staring.
And Auntie Britney made her a Rapunzel crown with hair to tide her over until her hair reaches the desired length.

And one, no two, more shots of the big little boy.
He is learning to sit up, sorta.
We are still working on our posture.
And the boppy is to prevent us from tipping over.
And on a fun side note, this little maniac has started screaming.
On purpose, for fun.
Screaming because he has discovered his voice box and finds pleasure in exercising his vocal range.
Screaming for hours on end in an octave I am sure only dogs can hear which absolutely does not make me want to throw myself in traffic.

And what would my post be without a picture I took of myself.
But in my defense, I have very few shots of the two of us.
And none of me with my new ombre hair.
I am so trendy.
Holla.