Escape Artist

Hey Mom, nothing going on here, just hanging out by the fence 

admiring the pretty flowers

Quick, she's not looking. I'm making a break for it.

Steady, Steady

Just a little bit more

Hey mom, still nothing going on here. Just hanging out 

and looking at the flowers.

Sucker!

Month 16

If memory serves me correctly, it has been 16 months since our little bundle of Finn-joy came into our lives. Nothing has been the same since. Before Finn, I always thought (to myself) how odd it was that when a parent was asked how old their child was, they responded with an unusually precise 15.75 weeks or 21.5 months.  Which forced me to do the math in my head and go, oh he's almost 4 months old, or she's nearly 2. What was with all this week/month speak? Would I be "that" girl who says her kid is 56 months? 

What I'm now learning is that month-speak is really code to other parents. As in, my son is 16 months old; therefore, it has been 16 months since I slept through the night without waking up to check the monitor to make sure it was still working, 16 months since I have gone to the bathroom ALONE, 16 months since my thoughts haven't constantly revolved around someone else, 16 months since I've gotten dressed up, washed and dried my hair and put on makeup . . . all in the same day, 16 months since, well you get the idea. Basically, it's been 16 months since I wrapped up my heart and gave it to someone else.

As we celebrate 16 months of Finn, I would say it is safe to assume we are in the throes of toddlerhood. His new and favorite word is "NO." Which he says to everything, including, "Do you want ice cream?" Of course he does not want ice cream, why would you even suggest that, wait a minute, what is ice cream? He also likes saying variations of "no" including, but not limited to, "oh, no" and "no go." He is learning where his nose, mouth, eyes, ears are located, but prefers to show you where yours are rather than his. He is starting to go up and down the steps, using his feet, not his fanny. He is starting to be really independent and wants to do things all by himself. He has inherited his Big's love of the outdoors . . .  he wants to be outside all of the time, even when it's raining. And he is extremely impatient. As in, "I want that NOW, not 30 seconds ago, but NOW, wahhhhhhhh." He prefers to run, not walk, everywhere. He loves light switches, fans, anything with an on/off button, so maybe we're raising a future electrician?

 He is so much fun right now, even when he's being a royal pain. It's hard work, but I am really enjoying watching him learn, take in the world and develop his own personality. 

On a side note, I found this article in Newsweek I thought I would share because I found it reassuring and that's something all parents need once in a while, whether they've been a parent for 16 days or 16 years.  

Easter Egg Hunt

We headed to the Crowley's on Sunday afternoon for an Easter egg hunt and yummy dinner. I had gotten Finn a really cute (totally southern) outfit to wear, but it was freezing cold and very windy. Seersucker doesn't really hold up in those conditions. Despite the cold, the kids had a great time looking for eggs and the adults had fun eating all of the candy out of their Easter baskets. Finn didn't really get the whole hunting for eggs. After he found the first one, he was content to put it in the basket and take it out, over and over. He also liked taking eggs out of other kids' baskets and putting them into his basket. 

And they're off

Finn needed a little assistance

Actually, a lot of assistance

Finn and Nathan checking out each other's haul

Bridgette shows off her basket

My little Easter egg

Inspecting the candy

Look mom, I have TWO eggs

Rowan's basket of eggs

Nathan and Leila examine their goodies, with a little help from Caitlin, Courtney and Nadia

Connor and Patrick goofing off

Finn and Megan

Easter Morning Mayhem

Easter was kind of a bummer this year. Although we were very happy to celebrate the significance of the day, everyone was sick and in addition, Finn is getting 4 more teeth at once. Hence all of the drool in the pictures. Finn was excited to check out what the Easter Bunny left him. Once he got a taste of the candy, it was game over. He didn't give a hoot about the toys.

We did rally the troupes Sunday afternoon and made it to the Crowley's for dinner and an egg hunt. 

Checking out all of my loot

Toys? What toys? All I care about is the candy

Please sir, may I have another gummy worm?

Crashing after the sugar high

If It Smells Like Poo . . .

Sorry guys, but there is no way I cannot NOT tell this story. Thankfully, there are no pictures to go along with it. I've always known kids were gross. I did my fair share of babysitting through the years. I just didn't know how gross they could be until I had my own gross little booger. I have really surprised myself at the disgusting things I look at, smell, put my hand in (eww), all in the name of love. So this past weekend's event should not have phased me in the least, but I admit I was a little skeeved out. Mostly, because it didn't even bother me.

Finn was sick all last week and by Friday afternoon, we were all itching for some fresh air. So we took Lily and walked down to the neighborhood playground. Finn loves the swings, the slide, watching the other kids, but mostly he loves sitting in and playing with the mulch. Good stuff. So I stood to the side of the playground while he toddled around. I saw him across the way bend over and inspect something. In my head I'm thinking "awww, he found a pretty rock or a flower." In my gut I'm thinking "noooooooooo" Of course he picks up the "treasure" he found and makes a beeline for me, hand outstretched. The little kid standing next to him confirmed my worst fear when he yelled "MOM, HE'S GOT POO!" 

Yes, people, my sweet little boy had a handful of someone else's dog's poo. And he was bringing it to me. Why does it matter that it was another person's dog and not Lily's, well, I guess it doesn't, but come on, you know you'll wipe your own kid's snotty nose, but draw the line at your neighbor's kid. Same principle applies.  Of course the only things I have in my stroller are two plastic bags and a bottle of apple-scented bubbles. Because if I've learned anything in my brief 15-months of mommyhood it is this: If you think you are prepared and have packed for every possible situation, you will find yourself in a situation that you are not prepared and/or packed for. Case in point. 

Because it was an ordeal to get to the playground, we weren't going home just because of a little poo. So I "washed" his hands in the bubbles, wiped his hands on his jeans, and sent him on his merry little way. I had to let him play with the plastic bags on the way home to keep him from trying to lick the "apples" off of his hands. So, I'm not going to win the mom-of-the-year award, but I bet I made you laugh.

Moral of the story:  Clean up after your dog (and always carry bubbles)