Another exercise...

Payne at six months old:

(He wasn't bald. We buzzed his hair.)

Genevieve at (nearly) six months old:


Survey says:
A) Phone cameras have come a loooong way in three years.
B) Yep, she is bigger than he was.
c) They look almost nothing alike.
D) In recent history, my wardrobe seems to have suffered. Heh.

Ah, parenting...

I'm standing in Genevieve's room, laying awkwardly over the rail of her crib and patting her back at a precarious angle from behind, so she doesn't see my face. Knowing I was there would piss her off. I suppose dismembered limbs are plenty soothing, as long as they pat her nicely.

I hear an ominous "click" and look over to Payne's doorway. I see him peek around the door frame, poke a miniature blue light saber at me, and go "pshoo!". He is wearing cowboy boots, blue boxer briefs, and a t-shirt.

I finish patting Genevieve, hit the deck, and crawl on my hands and knees across her room (she can't see me, remember?) in order to go deal with my non napping space age ranch hand.

(sigh)

Is it just me...

or does the hair sort of look like dog ears?

And if the hair looks like ears, don't they look kind of laid back?

And if a dog's ears are laid back, it's angry...

And angry dog eared baby is clearly going in for the kill.

Heh heh heh!

Oh, it was just me?

Ok.

(kicks at dirt in sulky manner and walks slowly home)

Ta-daaaa!

I managed to get Genevieve's hair in pig tails without ripping it all out.

I think I literally broke a sweat in the process.

They're both so cute in such completely different ways. Deep thoughts...




Payne wanted in on the action, so I snapped a photo of him and it turned out awesome:

(notice the marked lack of t.v. reflection glow on his face)

which is interesting considering I looked at him directly afterwards and realized he'd stripped completely from the waist down...

Also, we're starting to get more true personality out of the girlie. She has developed a favorite toy.

It's not her purse shaped rattle, or her pink hairbrush, or her plush baby doll.

It's her brother's dump truck.

Yer damn skippy.


She pulls on the bed until it flops back, then lets go and squeals and flails her chubby arms and laughs as it flops forward again.

Kids are just...exhilarating, at times.

I'm so very lucky.

A fun little exercise.

Payne at around two months old:




Payne at three years and two months old:



The only real similarity is my consistent and blatant disregard for the safety rules associated with the Bumbo seat. Oops.

Just a few photos.

Hell froze over.

Pigs flew.

Christian Bale said something nice.


Payne actually snuggled on the couch with me.

Genevieve has started sitting up in the last couple of days:

She was between a diaper change and her bath, and yes, she peed on the floor. Heh.

I love them:

This has to be hitting a peak...

I cannot possibly need to pack any more crap in order to be away from my home for more than an hour.

I think right now we're in a sort of perfect storm of equipment necessity, given the developmental situations of both of my kids and the time of year. It can't get much worse, or my back is going to give out.

I pack:

-Diapers for Payne
-Underwear for Payne
-A change of clothes for Payne
-A jacket for Payne
-Payne's sippy cup
-Payne's provisions in the form of snacks
-Payne's potty seat (yes, I CARRY AROUND a collapsible potty seat. Gross)
-Bug spray wipe things in case we encounter mosquitoes
-At least two bibs
-A burp cloth
-Formula dispenser
-A bottle and insulated case
-At least two, ideally five, diapers for the baby
-Two changes of clothes for Genevieve
-Baby food
-Spoon
-A small blanket to lay out on the floor in public, or tuck behind her in a high chair, or use in lieu of a coat
-Baby wipes. LOTS of baby wipes.
-My wallet
-My cell phone
-My keys
-A few matchbox cars
-A baby toy
-A zip lock bag

Now, I know some of this stuff isn't completely necessary, but my bag packed full of supplies for many potential difficult situations has become a sort of security item for me. Some of my other Mom friends get by quite well with packing very little and just being creative when difficulties arise. I can't do that. I freeze under pressure. Heh. My enormous bag makes me feel safe that I can handle whatever comes up.

In fact, I take a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction in completing the packing of my bag. I huff a little sigh of self congratulation when the task is complete. I like is so much, that I get sort of irritated when I have to use it. Once I have to use a spare outfit or something, then my bag is no longer complete. I am no longer optimally prepared, dang it! This is probably my biggest waste of energy, considering the bag is usually half gutted at the end of any outing. I'm aware this makes me completely insane. Even my friends in similar life situations get a slightly concerned look on their faces when I explain my diaper bag psychosis.

I do manage to push the annoyance at the plundering of my stash aside, and enjoy letting my kids have a little fun though. I promise!

Photographic evidence:


Please overlook the apparent strangulation of our favorite snuggly swine, and focus on the fact that Payne OFFERED Piggy to Genevieve! He is so sweet to her.

And just when I thought it couldn't get any better...

(sniffle)