The news: I have a black eye.
The bad news: I have a black eye because I placed myself in the direct path of a wooden box being a-held and a-swung by a wild animal...errr, I mean...by my sweet boy, Henry.
The good news: My face took the fall for his intended target: his bubbly, smiling, laughing, entertained-by-his-every-move baby brother.
And that, my friends, is called 'takin' one for the team.'
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
On and on and on...
Well, he did it. 4 months before his big brother could do it, he did it.
We're pulled up, folks...all the way to standing. Seeeee?!?! (Note: I hate our bricks for babies...I can just feel my teeth being knocked out when I see a baby crawling near them...however, Baby J reached inbetween two pillows to get to them and pull up for the first time, so we took advantage of the photo op while I stood by ready to catch if necessary). 
At 7 months, James has also cut 2 new teeth (he has 4 total), says "hi" while waving, says "mama," blows kisses (I wish I could figure out how to post the video of this...too cute!), is crawling everywhere on all fours (Henry didn't do this until after 8 months!), is becoming more social by the minute, is taking two naps a day - long in the a.m. short in the p.m., is a sweet little thumb-sucker, wears 18-24 month clothing, is verrrrry ticklish, loves his big brother, is into anything he can get his hands on, puts everything he can find into his mouth, and is still the sweetest most easy-going baby you've ever seen. 
Since we're talking milestones, Mr. Henry has hit a few of his own. In a bad mom moment like none other, I discovered that he cut ALL 4 of his big boy molars this past month...they were all through before I even knew it had happened. Poor baby. Everytime I see our full bottle of Children's Motrin I want to kick myself. He has gone from speaking in sentences to having full-out conversations...with anyone who will listen. (Jared, darling, he does not get this chattiness from me.) He is very into 'hiding' right now, and seeks out cubbies and nooks to stash himself in while nobody is looking. He is also all about pretending. He pretends to be all sorts of things and people, and he also loves to make his toys have conversations with each other and with him. Don't even get me started on how much he loves his Halloween costumes - yes, there are two. Also, about a month ago, we noticed that he was singing along with songs that he knows and speaking along with scenes from movies that he likes. That was so awesome to us, because literally one day, he couldn't sing along with anything...the next, he was singing every single word to every single song. That kind of thing is fascinating to me, because there are so few other stages in a human life where you can actually SEE cognitive processes developing, and we're bearing witness to it everyday. Wow.
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention/admit that the H-man is having a time of it getting through his Terrible Twos. I don't really like that phrase, because I don't think anything about my baby is terrible...but, it's what the world calls this phase, so I'll begrudgingly use it. One of my girlfriends who reads here recently wrote a blog post about how her sweet daughter (who is almost three) never experienced this at all, and all I could think was...hmmm, how nice...where do I sign up for one of those? Because, alas, 'tis certainly not the case in the Chesser house! We're all about the red-faced, tantrumy, mine-mine-mine, no-mommy-no, don't-want-to, accidentally-yet-on-purpose hurting baby brother, etc. etc. around here. If you need a lesson in patience, I highly recommend taking on a 2-year old for the day. In fact, I'd be delighted to let you know when mine is having a particularly bad moment by throwing him out my car window and into your yard. Return him at your leisure. :)
A few Fridays ago, we took a field trip to see daddy at work. Henry was on Cloud 9 to get to see where daddy goes everyday, to make xerox copies of his hands, to be pushed around all over the place in a rolling office chair, and to lay the ChesserCharm down on Ms. Becky. 
And looky looky what I got a few days after that...a sweet picture of the two of them together where they're BOTH smiling. No, they're not both looking at the camera. No, they're not their best smiles ever. But, beggers can't be choosers, right?!? I'll take it!
After finishing this post, I learned how to upload the kissy video!! Just turn off the music (at bottom of the blog) to hear the video. Enjoy!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Laura's Birthday
Last week, at Henry's Zumba (it's what he calls his music class??), the teacher announced the date for the annual Halloween Party. "Mark your calendars, mommies...we've pinned down a date for the dress-up-boogie-down-trick-or-treat good time." Say whaaaaaa...hold up, sister. Do you mean to tell me that September is gone?
Evidently, that's exactly what she meant to tell me.
And, with the passing of September comes the entrance of October and with that comes, well, one of my most favorite days of the whole year. I'll give you a hint...it's not Halloween. While Halloween is absolutely one of my favorite holidays, this other day of which I speak, it's just a day...no nationally recognized holiday...just a day like any other. Except it's not. And calling it "just a day" does it no justice at all.
It's the day that kicks off the best holidays of the year for me (who remembers that post from last year?). It's a day full of memories of happiness and simple times. It has been that way for me for 7 years...although, as I type this, my memory is blurring on precisely how we celebrated that first year. Somebody help me out on that. I do remember, though, that 6 years ago on this day, a group of law school friends decided not to care about homework or stress or life or school nights, the chill in the air...or the sanctity of trying out for law journal. baahaha. And 5 years ago, those very same friends laughed until their stomachs hurt over sushi and hot spit (or whatever that sick drink is that you crazy people drink at sushi bars). And that every year since we graduated, this day has not passed without acknowledgment.
It's October the 5th, people, and it's Laura H***'s birthday.
Now, I realize that roughly 3/4 of the readers of my blog don't know Miss Laura, and that's okay. You don't have to know her to follow me on this.
Let me start here: I love her. :)
And I love her birthday. I love it because she was so happy and grateful for those little homemade parties we gave her in school. I love it because Laura is the kind of friend you LOVE to see happy and surprised and tickled and celebrated. I love it because it's almost always accompanied by good weather. I love it because it reminds me of our law school 'group'. I love it because it's orange and gold and red and tan and crisp and sunshiny and good. I love it because it looks perfect in a Grove tent bedecked with white lights. I love it because it doesn't always require a present. I love it because it doesn't even require a phone call. I love it because almost every person who celebrated with us in '05 has called me in Octobers since with a, "Hey, remember that time we had that surprise party for Laura and we...." I love it because it, somehow, turned into a tradition that we all silently celebrate from Texas to the Middle East. But, mostly, I love it because I love Laura (the reasons why I do will have to wait for another post :).
And after seven years of ups and downs and round and rounds, we're still all here, my friend (yep, she reads here). No ooey-gooey cheesy sentiment to close this thing, DON'T YOU WORRY (Laura no likey cheesy sentiment)...just one more "I love ya and I love your birthday and I hope it was perfect and I wish I coulda been there to sing the song and see your face alit in birthday glee...maybe next year."
Happiest of birthdays to my dear friend, Lou...and Happy October 5th to everyone else. Now, the party that is 2010 can really begin.
Evidently, that's exactly what she meant to tell me.
And, with the passing of September comes the entrance of October and with that comes, well, one of my most favorite days of the whole year. I'll give you a hint...it's not Halloween. While Halloween is absolutely one of my favorite holidays, this other day of which I speak, it's just a day...no nationally recognized holiday...just a day like any other. Except it's not. And calling it "just a day" does it no justice at all.
It's the day that kicks off the best holidays of the year for me (who remembers that post from last year?). It's a day full of memories of happiness and simple times. It has been that way for me for 7 years...although, as I type this, my memory is blurring on precisely how we celebrated that first year. Somebody help me out on that. I do remember, though, that 6 years ago on this day, a group of law school friends decided not to care about homework or stress or life or school nights, the chill in the air...or the sanctity of trying out for law journal. baahaha. And 5 years ago, those very same friends laughed until their stomachs hurt over sushi and hot spit (or whatever that sick drink is that you crazy people drink at sushi bars). And that every year since we graduated, this day has not passed without acknowledgment.
It's October the 5th, people, and it's Laura H***'s birthday.
Now, I realize that roughly 3/4 of the readers of my blog don't know Miss Laura, and that's okay. You don't have to know her to follow me on this.
Let me start here: I love her. :)
And I love her birthday. I love it because she was so happy and grateful for those little homemade parties we gave her in school. I love it because Laura is the kind of friend you LOVE to see happy and surprised and tickled and celebrated. I love it because it's almost always accompanied by good weather. I love it because it reminds me of our law school 'group'. I love it because it's orange and gold and red and tan and crisp and sunshiny and good. I love it because it looks perfect in a Grove tent bedecked with white lights. I love it because it doesn't always require a present. I love it because it doesn't even require a phone call. I love it because almost every person who celebrated with us in '05 has called me in Octobers since with a, "Hey, remember that time we had that surprise party for Laura and we...." I love it because it, somehow, turned into a tradition that we all silently celebrate from Texas to the Middle East. But, mostly, I love it because I love Laura (the reasons why I do will have to wait for another post :).
And after seven years of ups and downs and round and rounds, we're still all here, my friend (yep, she reads here). No ooey-gooey cheesy sentiment to close this thing, DON'T YOU WORRY (Laura no likey cheesy sentiment)...just one more "I love ya and I love your birthday and I hope it was perfect and I wish I coulda been there to sing the song and see your face alit in birthday glee...maybe next year."
Happiest of birthdays to my dear friend, Lou...and Happy October 5th to everyone else. Now, the party that is 2010 can really begin.
Monday, October 4, 2010
A little fall cleaning.
A few months ago, my mom springs this sweet little number on me. She tells me that she's thought about it (great...this can't be good), and she's decided that I need some help keeping up my house. She even had, at the ready, the name and number of a lady that cleans the homes of several of her co-workers. And even though she didn't speak this decision in that judgy 'mom-to-daughter' way that all of us daughters have come to know so well, I nonetheless reacted in typical brat daughter fashion. Yep, my reply was receptive and mature and super-humble and sounded something like this - "awwww, HELLLLL NAWWWW."
My second thoughts were like this - "I am not about to be paying somebody to do what I can do just fine. And I am doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. Do you even know how much work it would take me just to have my house READY for a housekeeper to come into it? Jared won't pay for that...no way, no how. That's just lazy and ridiculous and preposterous and stupid. Yeah, that's what it is...it's STUPID."
And that was the end of that.
Fast-forward to two weeks ago. My kids were sick. I was sick. Our house was looking like a bomb had gone off in it. Jared was traveling for work 4 out of 5 days that week. I was tired and lonely and sad and sick and overwhelmed and overworked and...in a moment of weakness...I called 'her.' Her name is Maria.
And, you know what? It -- calling her, that is -- just might be the best decision I have ever made.
I'm not saying it's a forever thing. I'm also not saying it's not a little of all of those bad things I said about it before. What I am saying, though, is that my mom wins the prize yet again for knowing best when it comes to me and my sanity (or whatever's left of it after meeting a man, marrying him, job-changing, moving, retiring, popping out two babies, and turning 30 in about 7 seconds flat).
And, now that I've been blessed by not one but TWO visits from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity, I've found myself with a little time and energy to post a bloggety blog list of fun about it. And, here it is (in no particular order):
10 Things I've Learned from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity
10. A clean house is like a home-cooked meal...it's totally awesome and it's even better if somebody else does it for you.
9. If your 2-year old comes down the stairs from his nap and sees that his home is clean, it's not going to make you cry (like it used to) when he asks, "Mommy, who's comin' over?" Because, guess what. For the first time in a long time, your house is clean just because. Wow. What a revelation.
8. It's profoundly easier to keep a home clean than it is to clean a destroyed crap-sty of a house from the ground up while keepinganeyeonyourtoddlerandsixmontholdandcookingdinnerandrunningerrandsandfeedingthebaby andjugglingwidgetswhileattemptingtobrushyourteethforthefirsttimein48hours.
7. $50-$60 is a small price to pay for right-mindedness. In fact, it's worth giving up just about ANYTHING to squeeze into the budget. I personally chose something very near and dear to my vain little heart...but I don't even care...nobody should have done nails while feeling so undone everywhere else. On that note, it's true what they say...fake nails positively ruin your nailbeds. So, here's to healing fingers, reformed vanity, AND clean baseboards! Holla!
6. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy loving on the little people in the house.
5. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy for the other big person in the house. :)
4. If you are used to slavin' around your house and overseeing little people at the same time, you may have a moment like this -- you're sitting at your kitchen table eating a sandwich, both your kids are down for a nap, and you can actually hear someone else scrubbing your toilet...and in this moment, you will suddenly look up and feel like you stole something. Just ride it out, girlfriend...do not let guilt creep in on you now. That moment, it's transcendent and fabulous and, sad to say, short-lived. As we all know, a middle-of-the-night wake-up or a huge blowout diaper or a screamy tantrum at high noon in the neighborhood ChickFilA is sure to befall you very, very soon.
3. It's okay to be so filled with gratitude over the presence of help with your housework that you have real tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat...for two weeks straight. No really, it is.
2. You will find yourself becoming less and less worried about the random little messes that your family makes on a regular basis because, guess what, random little messes are NOTHING compared to random little messes on top of the destroyed crap-sty of a house you were cleaning by yourself before. Nothing.
1. When someone knocks on your door unannounced, you don't have to hide behind furniture and duct-tape your babies' mouths closed so as to make it seem as though you are earning Mother of the Year points by being gone from the home on an outdoor adventure (how else to explain a car in the driveway but no answer at the door? Oh come on, you've sooo thought about it!). Instead, you get to earn Mother/Wife/Homemaker/Hostess of the Year points by calmly and casually swinging that door wide open and saying, "Oh hiiii! What a nice surprise...won't you please come in?!"
So, there you have it. A completely non-inclusive-but-hitting-the-high-points list of things I've learned and love about my mom, Saint Maria, and this little 'secret' to my newfound sanity.
Happy October, friends.
My second thoughts were like this - "I am not about to be paying somebody to do what I can do just fine. And I am doing just fine, thankyouverymuch. Do you even know how much work it would take me just to have my house READY for a housekeeper to come into it? Jared won't pay for that...no way, no how. That's just lazy and ridiculous and preposterous and stupid. Yeah, that's what it is...it's STUPID."
And that was the end of that.
Fast-forward to two weeks ago. My kids were sick. I was sick. Our house was looking like a bomb had gone off in it. Jared was traveling for work 4 out of 5 days that week. I was tired and lonely and sad and sick and overwhelmed and overworked and...in a moment of weakness...I called 'her.' Her name is Maria.
And, you know what? It -- calling her, that is -- just might be the best decision I have ever made.
I'm not saying it's a forever thing. I'm also not saying it's not a little of all of those bad things I said about it before. What I am saying, though, is that my mom wins the prize yet again for knowing best when it comes to me and my sanity (or whatever's left of it after meeting a man, marrying him, job-changing, moving, retiring, popping out two babies, and turning 30 in about 7 seconds flat).
And, now that I've been blessed by not one but TWO visits from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity, I've found myself with a little time and energy to post a bloggety blog list of fun about it. And, here it is (in no particular order):
10 Things I've Learned from Saint Maria, Patron Saint of Saving My Sanity
10. A clean house is like a home-cooked meal...it's totally awesome and it's even better if somebody else does it for you.
9. If your 2-year old comes down the stairs from his nap and sees that his home is clean, it's not going to make you cry (like it used to) when he asks, "Mommy, who's comin' over?" Because, guess what. For the first time in a long time, your house is clean just because. Wow. What a revelation.
8. It's profoundly easier to keep a home clean than it is to clean a destroyed crap-sty of a house from the ground up while keepinganeyeonyourtoddlerandsixmontholdandcookingdinnerandrunningerrandsandfeedingthebaby andjugglingwidgetswhileattemptingtobrushyourteethforthefirsttimein48hours.
7. $50-$60 is a small price to pay for right-mindedness. In fact, it's worth giving up just about ANYTHING to squeeze into the budget. I personally chose something very near and dear to my vain little heart...but I don't even care...nobody should have done nails while feeling so undone everywhere else. On that note, it's true what they say...fake nails positively ruin your nailbeds. So, here's to healing fingers, reformed vanity, AND clean baseboards! Holla!
6. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy loving on the little people in the house.
5. Less time and energy cleaning/sorting/picking up/dusting/mopping/sweeping=More quality time and energy for the other big person in the house. :)
4. If you are used to slavin' around your house and overseeing little people at the same time, you may have a moment like this -- you're sitting at your kitchen table eating a sandwich, both your kids are down for a nap, and you can actually hear someone else scrubbing your toilet...and in this moment, you will suddenly look up and feel like you stole something. Just ride it out, girlfriend...do not let guilt creep in on you now. That moment, it's transcendent and fabulous and, sad to say, short-lived. As we all know, a middle-of-the-night wake-up or a huge blowout diaper or a screamy tantrum at high noon in the neighborhood ChickFilA is sure to befall you very, very soon.
3. It's okay to be so filled with gratitude over the presence of help with your housework that you have real tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat...for two weeks straight. No really, it is.
2. You will find yourself becoming less and less worried about the random little messes that your family makes on a regular basis because, guess what, random little messes are NOTHING compared to random little messes on top of the destroyed crap-sty of a house you were cleaning by yourself before. Nothing.
1. When someone knocks on your door unannounced, you don't have to hide behind furniture and duct-tape your babies' mouths closed so as to make it seem as though you are earning Mother of the Year points by being gone from the home on an outdoor adventure (how else to explain a car in the driveway but no answer at the door? Oh come on, you've sooo thought about it!). Instead, you get to earn Mother/Wife/Homemaker/Hostess of the Year points by calmly and casually swinging that door wide open and saying, "Oh hiiii! What a nice surprise...won't you please come in?!"
So, there you have it. A completely non-inclusive-but-hitting-the-high-points list of things I've learned and love about my mom, Saint Maria, and this little 'secret' to my newfound sanity.
Happy October, friends.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
We've gone PINK!
It's October...Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Taking a cue from the NFL, the foremost authority on all things of monumental relevance, we decided pink was the only way to go. Real posts coming soon...haha, no really. I promise.