11 is the new 16.

So...let me start by saying that I'm pretty sure I need a drink.  I am not old enough to have to have The Conversation.  And since she still plays with Barbies and Polly Pockets and American Girl dolls, I'm pretty sure that Abby is not old enough to have The Conversation.  And by "The Conversation," I mean The Conversation.  I think you know what The Conversation is, so I won't detail what it involves..  Yo Abs is 10 (although she told me this week that she is almost 11, which I guess is the new 16).  So that begs the questions...is 11 the magic age to get a boyfriend?  And is a boyfriend at 11 still someone you sit next to at lunch or has it gotten to be more than that? 

And that begs the question...when do you start having The Conversation?

This week.  This week we had The Conversation.

It was and abbreviated Conversation; we talked about boyfriends (she can have one when she's 37) and going to school dances (she can go with a group of friends) and if there's a Sadie Hawkins Dance (girls ask the boys) we'll cross that bridge when we get there. I want her to feel like she's in charge and knowledgeable. Knowledge is power and I need to know that I'm giving her the tools to make good decisions and I really want her to be comfortable coming to me if she has questions or concerns.

In theory.

In reality, I would rather mix a cocktail and not have that conversationn, and send her over to Sars to have The Conversation. Sars is a nurse and that means she has the knoweldge to pass on in a No-Nonsense Conversation. Because, honest to God, it is not comfortable! But I sucked it up and took one for the team. I put on my own No-Nonsense face and attempted to put a "This is the most common thing in the world to be sitting on the couch having this conversation" spin on the "This is so uncomfortable and mildly weird to be having this conversation with a little girl" conversation.

I'm changing diapers and getting excited about sleeping through the night. I'm not ready for boys to pick her up at the door (and to bail Uriah out of jail because he's waiting at said door with a rifle pointed at the lad). I'm not ready to not go to sleep because I'm waiting for her to come home from a night out with friends. So, we'll have The Conversation again and again and again.

I will get her graduated from high school.

I will get her graduated from college.

And then I will breath a sigh of relief.  And have my cocktail.  Because I will have succeeded in the goals that we set for her when she came to live with is 2 years ago.

P.S. Pretty damn glad Finn is a boy. Uriah gets to have That Conversation with him!

So...let me start by saying that I'm pretty sure I need a drink.  I am not old enough to have to have The Conversation.  And since she still plays with Barbies and Polly Pockets and American Girl dolls, I'm pretty sure that Abby is not old enough to have The Conversation.  And by "The Conversation," I mean The Conversation.  I think you know what The Conversation is, so I won't detail what it involves..  Yo Abs is 10 (although she told me this week that she is almost 11, which I guess is the new 16).  So that begs the questions...is 11 the magic age to get a boyfriend?  And is a boyfriend at 11 still someone you sit next to at lunch or has it gotten to be more than that? 

And that begs the question...when do you start having The Conversation?

This week.  This week we had The Conversation.

It was and abbreviated Conversation; we talked about boyfriends (she can have one when she's 37) and going to school dances (she can go with a group of friends) and if there's a Sadie Hawkins Dance (girls ask the boys) we'll cross that bridge when we get there. I want her to feel like she's in charge and knowledgeable. Knowledge is power and I need to know that I'm giving her the tools to make good decisions and I really want her to be comfortable coming to me if she has questions or concerns.

In theory.

In reality, I would rather mix a cocktail and not have that conversationn, and send her over to Sars to have The Conversation. Sars is a nurse and that means she has the knoweldge to pass on in a No-Nonsense Conversation. Because, honest to God, it is not comfortable! But I sucked it up and took one for the team. I put on my own No-Nonsense face and attempted to put a "This is the most common thing in the world to be sitting on the couch having this conversation" spin on the "This is so uncomfortable and mildly weird to be having this conversation with a little girl" conversation.

I'm changing diapers and getting excited about sleeping through the night. I'm not ready for boys to pick her up at the door (and to bail Uriah out of jail because he's waiting at said door with a rifle pointed at the lad). I'm not ready to not go to sleep because I'm waiting for her to come home from a night out with friends. So, we'll have The Conversation again and again and again.

I will get her graduated from high school.

I will get her graduated from college.

And then I will breath a sigh of relief.  And have my cocktail.  Because I will have succeeded in the goals that we set for her when she came to live with is 2 years ago.

P.S. Pretty damn glad Finn is a boy. Uriah gets to have That Conversation with him!

Today...

 

 

 

 

 

 

sucks  (sʌks)
— interj
1.	an expression of disappointment
2.	an exclamation of defiance or derision (esp in the phrase yah boo sucks to you )

 

 

 

 

 

 

sucks  (sʌks)
— interj
1.	an expression of disappointment
2.	an exclamation of defiance or derision (esp in the phrase yah boo sucks to you )

Lights out for safety.

Sleeping babies make my heart melt.  I have more sleeping baby pictures from the past two months than I care to admit to at the present time.  For weeks, getting Finn to sleep at night was such a struggle.  He would fight falling asleep every single night, and when I say fight, I mean he used his loudest, most angry voice, he arched his back, he refused to be comforted.  Poor baby was so tired but he just did not want to succumb to dream land.  Uriah and I tagged teamed holding him, rocking him, walking with him, driving him around...anything to get  him to stop crying and go to sleep.  So when he was finally relaxed and snoring, I wanted to capture the moment for posterity.  And to remind myself that sleeping Finn was a possibility. 

He's gotten much better at going to sleep at night.  We've got him on a prety regimented bedtime routine.  Bath, lotion, Jack LaLanne exercises, bottle, lights out for safety and sleep.  It's glorious news, compared to what it was a couple of weeks ago.  There was a time when I thought he would never sleep and I would have to walk the floors with him until he left for college.  I worried about my upper body strength.  It is nonexistant.

Here he is, not more than 2 weeks old spread out at my parents house. 

July in Minnesota is sultry and even his tiny baby body got hot. 

He looks so little here.  He is not this small anymore. 

But he still smells the same...like baby sweat and lotion and love.

I took this picture shortly after we came home from the hospital. 
He is in the baby cradle that my Daddy made for me 30 years ago when I was born. 

He didn't sleep in it very long, we transitioned him to his crib pretty quickly,

but for a few weeks it was nice to have him within arms reach. 

Do you see his little frog feet? 

That is why I love this picture, for the frog feet.
I also love that he sleeps with his little arms spread over his head.

I probably took 57,000 pictures during this nap.

His little hands by his fatty cheeks...I can't get enough of his fatty cheeks.
And his little hands. 

And his fatty cheeks

I took this last week.  Apparently he will sleep anywhere.

And I will take his picture anywhere...becuase he has fatty cheeks,
but mostly because he is sleeping.

Sleeping babies make my heart melt.  I have more sleeping baby pictures from the past two months than I care to admit to at the present time.  For weeks, getting Finn to sleep at night was such a struggle.  He would fight falling asleep every single night, and when I say fight, I mean he used his loudest, most angry voice, he arched his back, he refused to be comforted.  Poor baby was so tired but he just did not want to succumb to dream land.  Uriah and I tagged teamed holding him, rocking him, walking with him, driving him around...anything to get  him to stop crying and go to sleep.  So when he was finally relaxed and snoring, I wanted to capture the moment for posterity.  And to remind myself that sleeping Finn was a possibility. 

He's gotten much better at going to sleep at night.  We've got him on a prety regimented bedtime routine.  Bath, lotion, Jack LaLanne exercises, bottle, lights out for safety and sleep.  It's glorious news, compared to what it was a couple of weeks ago.  There was a time when I thought he would never sleep and I would have to walk the floors with him until he left for college.  I worried about my upper body strength.  It is nonexistant.

Here he is, not more than 2 weeks old spread out at my parents house. 

July in Minnesota is sultry and even his tiny baby body got hot. 

He looks so little here.  He is not this small anymore. 

But he still smells the same...like baby sweat and lotion and love.

I took this picture shortly after we came home from the hospital. 
He is in the baby cradle that my Daddy made for me 30 years ago when I was born. 

He didn't sleep in it very long, we transitioned him to his crib pretty quickly,

but for a few weeks it was nice to have him within arms reach. 

Do you see his little frog feet? 

That is why I love this picture, for the frog feet.
I also love that he sleeps with his little arms spread over his head.

I probably took 57,000 pictures during this nap.

His little hands by his fatty cheeks...I can't get enough of his fatty cheeks.
And his little hands. 

And his fatty cheeks

I took this last week.  Apparently he will sleep anywhere.

And I will take his picture anywhere...becuase he has fatty cheeks,
but mostly because he is sleeping.

Bring on the season change!

My own perfection.

It just got cold here.  The leaves are still clinging desperately to the trees and they are as green as they were in May, but my toes were cold this morning when I got out of bed (I'm sure the wood floors have nothing to do with that!).  Finn needed a hoodie to go to daycare this morning and socks. No more cute sleeveless summer onesies with fish and crabs on them.  Oh, no...we have moved onto the polar bears and the fleece!

Abby tried to leave the house wearing a scarf and I had to remind her that it was going to get to 70 this afternoon (it was 48 degrees when she left the house).  She pouted and put it away.  I'm sure she smuggled mittens out in her backpack, though.  Sometimes she acts so much like me it's scary.  I have a new found respect for my Mom, and I curse Uriah openly when he laughs and tells me that I'm being punished for what I (allegedly) put my own mother through.  I'm sure she would disagree with him on every count and claim I am as perfect as I remember being!

Happy Monday...call your mother and remind her of your prefection.

My own perfection.

It just got cold here.  The leaves are still clinging desperately to the trees and they are as green as they were in May, but my toes were cold this morning when I got out of bed (I'm sure the wood floors have nothing to do with that!).  Finn needed a hoodie to go to daycare this morning and socks. No more cute sleeveless summer onesies with fish and crabs on them.  Oh, no...we have moved onto the polar bears and the fleece!

Abby tried to leave the house wearing a scarf and I had to remind her that it was going to get to 70 this afternoon (it was 48 degrees when she left the house).  She pouted and put it away.  I'm sure she smuggled mittens out in her backpack, though.  Sometimes she acts so much like me it's scary.  I have a new found respect for my Mom, and I curse Uriah openly when he laughs and tells me that I'm being punished for what I (allegedly) put my own mother through.  I'm sure she would disagree with him on every count and claim I am as perfect as I remember being!

Happy Monday...call your mother and remind her of your prefection.

Lazy days and Sundays

Our day started rather early this morning.  To my surprise (and utter sleep-deprived delight), Finn slept until 4 am when he made it known that he was very uncomfortable in his pee-pants and he needed a snack.  Uriah and I shared baby duty.  I changed him while Uriah made him a bottle and then I got to go back to bed (yeah!) and Uriah fed him and put him back down to sleep.  Then around 7am, Finn was once again ready to wake up, although this time he did it a little bit more liesurely by talking to his mobile animals for 20 minutes.  That got old quickly, probably because the monkey doesn't talk back, and Finn decided that he, in fact, needed a snack.  I can't blame him, I like snacks, too, so  I got up and left Uriah in our very warm, very comfortable bed.  And, thus, Finn and I were up for the day.

This is how our lazy Sunday went:

Had breakfast.

Took a mid morning nap.

Played on the play mat.

Read a book with the Mama (Thomas's Snow Suit - excellent choice.)

Had lunch.

Had some tummy time.

Drooled a little.

Got bored on the tummy and demanded to be turned over.

Got bored again.

Demanded a snack.

Drooled a little more.

Took a late afternoon nap.

I love lazy days.  I love not getting out of my pajamas.  I love my boy.  I love Sunday.

Our day started rather early this morning.  To my surprise (and utter sleep-deprived delight), Finn slept until 4 am when he made it known that he was very uncomfortable in his pee-pants and he needed a snack.  Uriah and I shared baby duty.  I changed him while Uriah made him a bottle and then I got to go back to bed (yeah!) and Uriah fed him and put him back down to sleep.  Then around 7am, Finn was once again ready to wake up, although this time he did it a little bit more liesurely by talking to his mobile animals for 20 minutes.  That got old quickly, probably because the monkey doesn't talk back, and Finn decided that he, in fact, needed a snack.  I can't blame him, I like snacks, too, so  I got up and left Uriah in our very warm, very comfortable bed.  And, thus, Finn and I were up for the day.

This is how our lazy Sunday went:

Had breakfast.

Took a mid morning nap.

Played on the play mat.

Read a book with the Mama (Thomas's Snow Suit - excellent choice.)

Had lunch.

Had some tummy time.

Drooled a little.

Got bored on the tummy and demanded to be turned over.

Got bored again.

Demanded a snack.

Drooled a little more.

Took a late afternoon nap.

I love lazy days.  I love not getting out of my pajamas.  I love my boy.  I love Sunday.