Home again, home again, jiggety jig

After a nice week of some r&r, or at least as much r&r as you can get with two little ones around, we're home again! Being away from the mundane responsibilities of home, and also being away from oppressive humidity, was nice. I also found a new favorite walking route (which nicely coincided with my discovery of the world's best blueberry muffin, and I like to think that the two cancel each other out, at the very least...):

Our house was a few blocks back from the lake and the public beach but it was an easy walk. Laura and I took several walks along the lake, enjoying our surroundings (and maybe a muffin). That little white spot on the water is a sailboat.

Look! I exist! Since I'm usually the one taking the pictures, I have around five or so pictures of myself with my children. I'm trying to get better about having my picture taken with them, so that they actually see what I look like as they progressively and rapidly age me. (Laura isn't exasperated, as it appears. She's just playing peekaboo.)

Laura made peace with the beach this trip. She even played in the sand for a while! There were still some grimaces and a handful or two of sand in the mouth, but she seemed to be much more at ease this time around.

She also took the opportunity to do a little light reading.

But by the time the sun set, she was pooped out.

While Big Brother played and played, asking every few minutes if the sun was setting.

Eventually, it was. And it was pretty spectacular. Watching the sunset is a little bit peculiar. It feels like it takes forever to set, but the last few moments, right before it sinks below the horizon, are over so quickly. Now that I type that, it occurs to me that it's kind of like raising kids. It feels like both an eternity and the blink of an eye, simultaneously. (Like the saying that the days are long but the years are short, except that I can't say anything nice and concisely like that.)

Shortly after sunset, everyone became a little cold and a little grumpier.

But it was kind of hard to stay grumpy while this was the view.

The next day was rainy, and there was a lot of lying around. (Well, Will was "lying around" for around five seconds at a time or so, so I had to act quickly to get this picture.)

In addition to the three or so pounds the boys picked, I bought ten more pounds on our way home. (Yes, I said 10.) I've made blueberry pancakes, blueberry muffins, blueberry jelly and have stocked the freezer with plenty of the frozen little guys for smoothies and such. These blueberries are delicious, nothing like many of the blueberries I always seem to end up with from the store. Not to mention that these are a million times cheaper.

Then we drove home. Jamison spent the evening at a local urgent care with some swelling and an infection in his elbow. Seriously. What are the odds of getting an infected elbow?

The next day, we went to the Children's Museum. I can't imagine for the life of me why, but we hadn't been before. I think Will can't believe that a place like this really exists. For starters, it's housed in the old train station, which he can't talk about enough. And then there are the four million things for him to do: play in water, build stuff, climb things, pretend. He could easily spend a whole day there and not run out of things to do. So we bought a membership and will be going back pretty frequently. (I feel much better about buying memberships to causes I can really get behind, like the zoo and the museum center. King's Island, maybe not so much. We're passed/membershipped to the extreme this year, so we should have no shortage of activities.)

There is the best little area for the little ones. Laura loved it. And since she's the only one not really on the move, I only took pictures of her. (And when I was with Will, it often involved the water area, so I didn't really want to take a chance by toting the camera along with us.)

I could just about bite her (in the most non-vampire way possible, of course). Oddly enough, she didn't really get all the constant feedback we get when we're out and about here while we were in Michigan. (And don't think I didn't notice, Michigan. Our vacation dollars may go elsewhere in the future because of it.) I know that she's mine and I know that no one will ever think she's as sweet and utterly breathtaking as we do, but people are always complimenting her, from the teenager bagging groceries at Kroger to the old women at the gym (I know, I've broken down and am finally taking advantage of our gym membership--I'll let you know how it goes).  And, kind of obnoxiously, I always smile and say, "She is, isn't she?" when people tell me how pretty she is. In my defense, though, I usually hastily add that we are, after all, a bit biased. (And then I usually whisper to her that she's more than just a pretty face, like a crazy person. She is only 16 months old, I know. But I don't think it's ever too early to start instilling this in her.)

How did I end up on this? Oh, the picture of Laura. She tends to have this effect on me for some reason. Like the other day when she was eating dinner in her high chair and the sun caught her hair in a certain way and I actually thought to myself that one day she'll be a beautiful bride. Do I need to repeat that she's 16 months old? And maybe she won't want to get married. Then I started thinking about the boys that she'll go out with and I was filled with such trepidation that I actually had to remind myself that she's only a baby. And somehow I've suddenly become the crazy mom who can picture her little one someday in a wedding dress, with the light catching her hair through her veil just so. Maybe it's the heat. Or something.

Whatever. I'll leave you with a picture of all four of us, one of about three that I have of our whole little family. (A little sidenote: the nice man who offered to take our picture was having his picture taken in front of the museum as well. He had a photocopy of his parents in the exact same spot that was taken in 1941. The building, except for the fountains there now, looked exactly the same.)

And here's one of Will, who was kind of shortchanged in this post, getting ready to make some wishes and throw some pennies in the fountain:

Will's looking forward to a fun weekend in WV, with the county fair being the highlight that's taking up most of our conversations about the trip. There is some pig chasing in his future. 

And then

We've thought about leaving early so we could have  another day to cross off some stuff on our mile-long to-do list at home. And then we saw this.

We're reconsidering that decision.

(In the meantime, I've also discovered what I believe to be the world's best blueberry muffin. And it should be noted that I consider myself to be one of the world's foremost authorities on the matter. Will has also discovered blueberry picking, which he loves and we plan to do again before we leave. Jamison and Will picked at least a zillion blueberries yesterday and I think they were something like $3.50. Seriously.)

A fast one

We're here (and have been since Friday)! We're on our second vacation in a little over a month, which feels very luxurious and kind of like we maybe might be avoiding things that we could've been doing at our house with a week of both adults of the house home and no one thinking about and/or working all the while. But avoidance or not, it's pretty nice up here in these parts.

See what I mean?

Laura only sits in chairs that match her clothes. The green Adirondacks on the deck here were not a possibility for this very reason. Maybe they will be today, depending on her choice of outfit.

We're doing well if Will's just dressed, with all components, much less matching his chair. But his chair in this case is neutral enough that it also works out that he matches, too.



We built a fire last night and had hot dogs and smores. Or, more accurately, I  built a fire last night and then we had smores and hot dogs. Major man points were lost last night. I don't want to go into great detail but I will say that if we were stranded in the woods (in separate locations, for whatever reason), I would hope for Jamison's sake that he could locate me. But I wouldn't think that it would be too hard, what with all the smoke sent up from my towering fires.

I have lots more pictures and this time I even made sure the lens was clean! I'm a quick learner, aren't I? More coming soon . . .

If you look out your window, you may see some pigs flying around

I never thought the day would come but it has.

Little Miss No Bottle and/or Pacifier For Me No Way No How has finally come around to the idea that milk does not necessarily have to come directly from its source. Funnily enough, after we got home from the beach, Will suggested that we give her a sippy cup. Let me preface this by saying that any and every attempt to introduce the sippy cup has been met with suspicion, disgust, disdain, maybe some derision, or a combination of all of the above. I tried when she was about nine months old, every week or so and then I took a break, giving it back to her to try again when she was almost 11 months old. Same result. So I just gave up and powered through with the breastfeeding, as it was her sole source of liquid and thus seemed kind of important.

Until we came home from the beach, I never gave the sippy cup or milk a second thought. But since Laura has really picked up the pace on the whole eating front here lately, it must have been the obvious thing to do. So obvious that even her four-year-old brother could see what plan of attack we needed to employ. And he was absolutely right. From the first time we gave her the sippy cup a few weeks back, she's really loved it and I've found it kind of unbelievable that she's the same girl who loathed the same cup a mere few months ago. I guess our kids really never stop surprising us, in ways both large and small.

And now. Laura still enjoys her time with me, snuggling and getting her "baby milk," but only in the mornings and evenings before bed. A part of me is proud of her, for trying something new and embracing it wholeheartedly, but a larger part of me feels a little bit bereft, like I'm hanging on to these baby days as hard as I can while they race by in a blur. If I'm honest with myself, she's starting to squirm through some of her morning and night feedings like she just wants to get through them, a little bit like a disagreeable, sullen teenager sitting through church services looking at the clock every five minutes, sitting there because she knows she has to. I like to think that she still enjoys these feedings, that if I pretend hard enough, I can feel her little body relax and watch her eyes start to close, just like in those days long before sippy cups and table food. Like I can somehow will her into staying little and needing me like she used to.

But to bring things crashing back to reality, the antibiotics from a few weeks ago have left me with YET ANOTHER case of thrush. And for the uninitiated, thrush can best be described as having your baby suck flaming glass shards from your nipples ("muscles," to Will) all while employing the worst possible latch in the world. In short, it's SO MUCH FUN.This is at least the 10th time I've had it since Laura was born (in addition to the bout of mastitis I had when she was a week old), which may sound unbelievable but I really battled it most of her first five months here. All of this to say that someday she should really consider this when she's evaluating assisted living facilities for me. (I realize reading back over this that it would appear that breastfeeding has been a horrific experience for us but, as most of you know, that's not the case at all. We've just had a few aggravations along the way.)

To change gears a bit, Will has been Mr. Affectionate here lately. He's really been into doling out copious hugs and kisses to "feel you better," as he says. And feel me better, indeed. His conversational skills have really blossomed in the last few weeks and I often find myself amazed at how sweet and sensitive he can be. (He told my mom the other day before we left for my niece Annabeth's party that she looked "prettiful for the party.")  Of course, this is also right before he drags Laura around by her feet like they're in a remedial wheelbarrow race or throws something at her when he thinks I'm not looking. But I'll take it, whatever it is. One little step at a time. We're getting there.

And now I should be getting myself to bed. We have a long day full of packing and laundry and cleaning ahead of us tomorrow and I need to be at the top of my home managing game. I'll leave you with a few pictures from this morning.

Will was reading to Laura this morning so I snuck off to get the camera. Before I could take the picture without their knowing it and without interrupting a sweet moment, they both looked up at me like I had caught them in the middle of doing something wrong. Of course, this is Will's default mode, so it's only natural.

This was his "silly picture" that he requested that I take. We went through at least five poses before he decided, for reasons known only to him, that this one was acceptable. His semi-naked body is funny to me. That and his big melon (I say this with love, especially since I also married someone with a large-ish melon of his own).

More coming soon...

Big news that doesn't involve peeing on a stick

There is no baby in the works here but there is a new job on the very near horizon!

Jamison's last day in his current job is Friday and he starts his new job with MillerCoors at the beginning of August. After a very week of very dramatic back-and-forth and much hand-wringing and agonizing about the options (you would think that having the luxury of choosing between two jobs would be somehow satisfying, but in this case it was anything but), the decision to make a clean break and a new start was made. And while we're grateful that his soon-to-be old job has always allowed me to stay at home with the kids, I have to say that I can't wait for a more normal work schedule to take effect. It will certainly be a nice change to not wake up at 2 a.m. in a panic when you realize that your husband is not in bed with you only to remember that he's working, either at the office or in our little office at home.

So, that's that. In celebration of this momentous occasion, we'll soon be heading off for a week of relaxing on Lake Michigan and our first true (i.e. no computer or Blackberry, as they will have been turned in!) vacation in a long, long time. I'm not sure either of us really believes that any of this is happening!

In any case, we're all very excited and proud of Daddy. I don't say it enough, I know, but I am always aware that we are, in fact, very fortunate in more ways than can be written about. Generally speaking, I am loathe to talk about how much Jamison works, as lots of people work a lot. Lots of these people also lack a living wage and health insurance, much less 401ks or pensions. So it makes me feel like I'm being whiny and/or thankless when I complain about the hours. (Not to mention, it seems to have become some sort of weirdly American competition, to try to one-up everyone else with how much you're working, how busy you are. Not that people aren't busy, but it almost seems as though the people who actually have the time to complain about it aren't actually as busy as they may think. Digression!)

And despite my being whiny and thankless and frustrated and frequently tired (solo kid wrangling for extended periods of time is surprisingly taxing, it turns out), he remains our constant, regardless of how busy he is. Patient and unflappable, he balances out other family members who may have taken after me, it appears, with their tendency to overreact, to get angry, to talk before thinking. We are a fortunate lot, indeed.

I'll try to get some pictures up of our upcoming trip while we're gone. But, as I often say to Will, I'm not making any promises...

Just skip this if you're tired of reading about our vacation

I had every intention of writing this the latter part of last week but apparently the universe had other plans for me. Plans that involved a kidney infection and doing basically nothing from Wednesday until yesterday. Turns out kidney infections are for the birds.

But there are more vacation pictures to share, so here goes.

Will was obsessed with the idea of climbing Old Baldy, the lighthouse, for our entire stay. We went for it on our final day there.

On the off chance you've never seen the inside of a lighthouse (which was me until this day), this is what this particular one looks like. (Will says that this looks old and is that's why it's named "Old Baldy." He's now also expounding at length on his theory that the keeper of Old Baldy "went away" because the walls are "torn up.")

Laura and I barely managing to fit ourselves through the tiny little door to get to the top. If either of us had been much bigger, we couldn't have done it with her in the Bjorn. (I know, I'm totally old school with my choice of carrier. But she's really getting a bit heavy to be carried in any form so I'm probably not going to be getting anything new.)

Will and Grammie climbing up the ladder.

The first in a series of pictures we'll affectionately call (a rather obvious choice) "The Old Baldy Series." Jamison snapped everyone's picture while he enthusiastically urged us to replace the usual "Cheese!" with "Old Baldy!." These are the results.

My mom will probably not be happy for me including this but it's one of a series and cannot be left out.

Laura and I are burning up. It's already hot wearing another human but it becomes even hotter when you factor in the heat in the little (really little) viewing area at the top of the lighthouse.

















Portrait of the Photographer as a Young(ish) Man. He took this of himself and he's saying, of course, "Old Baldy!" I may be the only person who finds this funny.

And just because it's really cute, this is the chapel that's right next to Old Baldy.

On the ferry, getting ready to head home.

And on the way home, totally exhausted. Will slept for a good few hours after we left (which is such a rarity these days) and Laura was also pooped out for a good bit of the drive. The kids were really good in the car, especially considering that we were in the car for nearly twelve hours and didn't get home until midnight. The adults, though, didn't handle it quite as gracefully and were wishing that we'd flown when it was 10 pm and we were still a good bit from our bed.

Hopefully, wherever you are, you're keeping yourself as far from the outdoors as possible if it's as hot and humid there as it is here. (Will, Laura and I went outside fairly early this morning and came back inside after a mere half hour much sweatier, grumpier and stinkier than we'd previously been.)

More from the beach

I've been hard at work trying to salvage more beach pictures, and this is what I've come up with so far. A few okay ones here and there, with a major lesson learned for future shoreline shenanigans.

If you could see Laura's expression in this picture, it would probably look like this:

Or this:

But she did love the pool.

So much so that it completely tuckered her out.

Will was also a pool maniac (and also a fan of Luke and Jake's pool toys). His hair is straight up Lloyd Christmas when it's wet (and sometimes when it's dry). He's in serious need of a good shearing.

Back to the beach business at hand, we generally went to the pool in the mornings and headed over to the beach in the early evenings. Here are (some of ) the women hanging out on the beach one of those evenings. Laura is in the picture too somewhere, most likely squinting and grimacing.

Cousins on the beach (minus Laura).

Cousins on the beach, plus Laura.

An illustration of some of the things their Papaw does to get these cousins to laugh for pictures. (Will just said, "What's Papaw Gary doing in the sand?")

Will and his new BFF, Kyle (his cousin Kayla's boyfriend, who so patiently played with Will by doing such fun things as going octopus hunting--Will is still talking about it).

Self-explanatory. And pretty.

Laura asleep on the golf cart, her hand in her snack trap. She developed into quite an eater while we were gone. It all started at Cracker Barrel with a taste of my chicken and dumplings. She's not been the same since.

The eater herself asleep in her "rickety" crib, as Will called it. He called it about right, as Laura's small self about maxed out the capabilities of this little "crib."

And finally, Laura with cousin Casey, child-wrangler extraordinaire. Seriously, he's better with my kids than I am. He needs to give seminars on taking care of little ones.

The final installment of our trip will be coming soon. It includes our climb up Old Baldy, the lighthouse. Will was completely enamored with it our whole trip and is still talking about climbing up its 800 (actually 108) steps.

Happy day after fireworks! (I think we're officially old and crotchety. We were both complaining about all the fireworks over the weekend. Not necessarily the city- and neighborhood- sponsored shows but the intermittent banging and booming from houses in the neighborhood, much of which was done before dark, some in the middle of the afternoon.)