My Guy Eli

I know what you are thinking... this poor 2nd child... you would hardly know he exists.  3 weeks late on the first birthday blog??  SBR never received such treatment!  And to talk to SBR, you would think that poor boy never gets any attention! 

So my baby turned one.  
SBR's first year sky-rocketed passed me.  He moved so fast, he talked too soon, he got teeth too soon, walked 3 weeks before his first birthday.  He became a little boy way too soon.  I am so sincerely blessed my little ET has been the opposite.  Cutting his first tooth just weeks ago, he took his first steps 3 weeks after his first birthday (a couple days ago, in fact) and has yet to utter any words other than Momma and Dada.  
I think the major difference between raising my two boys is that with SBR I was constantly looking for what he was going to be doing next, What to Expect.  I constantly read books to know what to look for.  And I regret I missed out on some of his now.  I didn't truly understand that it is just a very short time they are actual babies. 
I learned from that. 
With ET, I just eat him up.  I don't even know what babes his age should know or should be doing.  He doesn't exhibit any alarming delays, so who cares?  
What a true blessing and joy to be able to relish in this all-too-short time of a child's life for as long as possible.   Thank you my precious squishy baby. 

a year of firsts... in photo review... watch him grow...

 so tiny

First time his big brother held him!

that face... gaaah!

I know he looks frightened, but it was fine... really... 

This was one of the first times they 'played' together

ET is a paci baby.  It appears to be his 'security item.'  I can't handle that because someday (very soon) I will need to take that paci away.  SBR attached early (see the trend) to a very expensive, incredibly soft blankie he calls Leece.  In hopes ET will share the same affections we decided to gift him his very own blankie.  (Name TBD)  

To keep you warm, make you feel safe when we aren't there, catch your tears and always smell like what comforts you most.

brother peeking.. waiting for the first sign of assistance needed. 

got get it started... 

atta boy!

Happy Birthday to the sweetest baby I have ever met!  He's friendly to all, and loyal to those closest to him.  I have a feeling he's going to be my dare-devil.  Do now, think later.  Uninhibited curiosity, life is to be explored, lived and loved.  I only hope his relaxed, chill demeanor and vigor for life follows him throughout his life (with careful, cautious brother by his side to keep him in check.)  
I still just cannot believe he's mine!

My precious little Eli Tom-Tom, I love you more than you will ever know!

Snake Store Zoo

This past Monday, I had promised SBR a date to the zoo.   We went right before his birthday in June and he had a blast.  He's been talking about it ever since.  All. summer. long.  Begging actually.  I was really trying to push him to cooler weather.  Like November. It's just Soooo hottt oouuut. <whiny 3 year old voice> 

It came to the point when we had a surprise or I would try to build up doing something fun, it was an immediate letdown because we weren't going to the zoo.  

  

Finally, giving in to his pleas,  I purchase our tickets through work.  Just 2.  One for me, one for SBR.  

Sunday night as I tucked him into bed, I whisper the exciting words before I say good night.... Tomorrow, Buddy, me & you are going to the ZOO!  Squeals and giggles meet my expectations of happy thrills! 

The next morning comes bright and early...  Nooo... it's raining.  I assume like any other 'rainy day' in the desert this will let up in about an hour or so.  Two hours pass.  The rain is not letting up.  This is going to be one of the 3 For Real rainy days of the year.  

Of course it is. 

Really, all SBR kept talking about seeing at the zoo was the Snakes and Spidas.  So I thought quickly and located a reptile store about 15 mins away.  You gotta love the blind innocence of a three year old.  

We're going to a Snake store??  Yep, we sure are... No... we going to a Snake Store ZOO!!  Sure thing, Bud. 

We loaded up in the van and off we were.  First stop.... breakfast!

Growing up in a town that has theee best bakery, EVER, it seems many good adventures started at the bakery.  Sometimes the bakery was the adventure.  So I followed tradition. 

Next we went to the Snake Store Zoo.  I'll admit, it was not exactly what I had envisioned.    Nor did the employees seem to find it clever or cute of me to bring in my sweet little SBR.  But... guess what?  I promised my boy a date to see snakes and spidas.  So, here we are fellas and we aren't leaving for a while... 

The employee really didn't find it cute or amusing when we had to use the potty.  It was pouring down at this point, "There is no public restroom here."  As I look at the sheets of rain coming down over the parking lot, I play out in my head, literally dragging SBR out, dealing with the tantrum as I throw him in the car, (suffer a moral/safety dilemma about fully and properly buckling him in) to drive across same parking lot to a gas station.  As if he saw my little saga play out as I did, the guy behind the counter quickly agrees to let us use the store bathroom.  He reiterated it was "not for the public."  Geesh, I get it... oh... myyy... wait..... as we walk passed the little white rats (also known as snake food), around a table next to about 12 cages of other dinners (various bugs) and into the bathroom, I really get it.  Boys who run reptile stores are not clean.  Gross.  I very clearly and forcefully advise SBR to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING.  This is one of those few exceptions we skip washing hands.

We spend the next 40 minutes or so in the store.  As obsessed with spiders as he is, he is sure scared of them.  He did not like looking at them at all.  In fact he avoided their aisle completely. (there were only 3 aisles to begin with)

He was fascinated by the snakes and unaffected by the turtles, frogs and lizards. 

After we left the reptile store, we headed to the book store.  My plan was to buy him a snake or reptile book.  The only book I could find was one about a snake who no one wants to buy at a pet store.  I decided against the book.  The last thing I need SBR to think about is getting a pet snake!

After the book store, SBR and I ended our date with lunch.  

What a fantastic day!  

I sure do love our boys, Mommy dates are a must and a fast favorite!

I can't wait to plan our next one! 

  

Caught in the Web

Superheroes have found their way into our home.  Namely... Spida-min

It all started with this picture, Husband purchased when he was younger, of Spiderman.

(Husband hates that I call it a 'picture.' It's a lithograph.)

Next, the shows creeped in.  Maybe a t-shirt here, undies there. 
Then he started getting "Superhero vitamin shakes" occasionally.  

 
Finally we (I) succumb.  We owned it.  SBR's 3rd birthday party had a theme.  
Yep, spida-min.  In addition to the overload of Spiderman decorations: balloons, cake, streamers and new shirts for both boys,  his gifts were everything Spiderman.   Action figure (not a DOLL, Mawm!), beach ball and floaty ring, beach towel, jammies, shirts, sprinklers, coloring books, socks, shoes, sunglasses, stickers, goggles, oh my!  Seriously... puked. on. birthday party.

He also got 2 different mask and cape combos.  But we ALL know Spiderman doesn't wear a cape.  (eye roll)

For Halloween I wanted SBR to be Spiderman.  ET would be a spider, Husband the Hulk and I would be a spider web.  Surprisingly SBR wants to be a spider.  (of course he does, because that's not my vision. ) Come October, if that is still the case, I do have a backup plan.  It's genius, you'll never guess. 

So... when your 3 year old is jumping from his bed to his bean bag in his super hero cape... you obviously do what any normal mother of the year would do... you grab your camera.

no boys or animals were harmed in this photo

I absolutely adore this quote that will adorn the boys' shared room in just about 19 mos.  

Not that I have a count down to our new office/craft room, or anything.  

Sometimes being a brother is better than being a Super Hero.  

~Marc Brown

The "Sh..." Word

Lately it seems the "Trying 3's" have entered our home.  

In case you don't remember, or maybe you didn't know, or maybe/probably I need to be  reminded myself... SBR stands for Sweet Baby Reid.  In real life I do often refer to him as "SweetBoy."  Just not so much lately. 

He talks back... <hands fiercely on his hips> Not me... no... YOU do it!  He is super bossy....  Mommy, stop kissing Eli... Eli, stop craw'ing dare,  Barley, stop chewing dat... ; and he whines the longest high-pitched whiiiiiniest whine whines.  Yep, he pushes all the right buttons with the perfect caress and little jab.

He has me clinging to the precious bebe and begging him to stop growing. 

Then there was today.  Today was actually a good day.  He had a great day at the Sweet Sitter's (he's an angel there).  Then I took him shopping for about 45 minutes.  He was surprisingly really good in the store. (shopping has a 50/50 success rate with SBR)  
He even accepted "No," in response to not one, but TWo "Mooommy?  I waaaant dis..." 

Then, after dinner, SBR was allowed to pick a cookie.  I was off getting the baby ready to go swimming, when SBR "Sh" word'd.  He took half of his cookie and gave it to Daddy.  Then he came and gave me half of HIS half.  He ate a quarter of his cookie.   
SBR SHARED! 
Without being prompted?  or swayed?  or... or... what??  

Husband and I were so shocked we didn't actually eat it till after SBR was in bed.   

Aaaawwe,  see!  He is still our sweet-sweet SBR after all. 


I bet it's the heat.  Yeah, it's for sure the heat. 

Not Enough Hours in a Day

This past Thursday was my scheduled day off for working the previous Saturday.

The plans for my day and how I actually spend that day are always slightly different.

example:

My plan:

• Wake up at 630 (I barely do this on a work day)
• Get the kids ready and leave by 7. (half hour to make coffee, cute myself up, feed the baby, pack lunches, dress the boys, load and leave?)
• Stop by this adorable French Bakery near my house to pick up 3 amazing croissants.
• Head to the Sweet Sitters and drop off the boys by 730, deliver 1st delectable croissant to Sweet Sitter.  (30 mins to stop, unload 2 kids, go into a pastry shop, get my order, load up the kids again and then drive 15 miles in morning rush hour traffic?)
• Next stop: my dear friend's house at 8a.  We will sip coffee and enjoy our breakfast as I hold her sweet sweet newborn (9 days old) baby while her toddler plays quietly and sweetly at our feet.   (it will be okay to drink coffee while holding the baby because he only sleeps, he doesn't move, he just.lays there.)
• Then by 10a I will be off to my house to do some mad cleaning.  I have a large master bedroom that needs some serious attention.  Then, I will straighten up the rest of the house. 
• By 2p I will be done and showered and head to the discount fabric store in search of fabrics for baby blankets, kitchen curtains and patio furniture.  (you see i have aaaall the time in the world for crafting.)
• Then I will head home to take a short nap.
• At 5, I head to pick up the boys for the evening.

Husband's plans:  sleep in, go to the church, then visit a buddy, eat lunch, maybe some light swimming.

Here's what actually happened:

•  SBR woke me up at 7a.  I started a pot of coffee, got him milk and laid in bed for an hour.
• I decide to not even try being cute. 
• We leave the house by 9.
• Skip the cute little pastry shop (I am not about to drag 2 kids out of the van for stupid croissants)
• Get to Sweet Sitter's at 930. 
• I stop by Wild Flower bakery and get my Friend a cupcake for her birthday and a cookie for her toddler.
• Make it to Friend's shortly after 10a.
• She's in the shower (um, she already one up'd me for the day with that one)
• I take the sweet sweet newborn from the Daddy.  Big Brother runs around dancing neked.
• Friend comes out looking refreshed and cute.
• 11a- I miss 2 calls from Sweet Sitter who never calls me.  we text.
• SBR has sliced his head open and probably needs medical attention. (ugh, does he really? my only day off and the only day BOTH boys will be out of the house? I guess i should go, it IS my first born and my first trauma with him.)

what happened- SBR tripped and hit his head on an entertainment center knob.  It caused a little gash, little blood. No big deal.  An hour later, he fell outside playing on a swing and it popped the gash open.  (while on the phone with Sweet Sitter, he is trying to get up into his chair at the kitchen table, slips and smashes his face on the table)

• I get to SBR at about noon.
• One ER visit, a popsicle and cool toy car later... he has a staple in his head.
• Leaving the hospital, he trips over the curb and falls again.

Our first ER trip. 

Sweet Sitter is devastated her perfect record of never having a child go to the hospital in almost 40 years = ruined.  However, Husband and I are ecstatic it was not on our watch.
Really... anyone who knows me and my challenges with just walking should not be surprised my baby broke the record.

My bedroom = still a disaster.

Husband's day?  He slept in, went to the church, then visited a buddy and had lunch.
must.be.nice.

above the point of his ear, you can see the laceration

picking out trains to play with while we wait.

blue bandana to hold on the numbing gel swab before the stapling.

(no shots!)

literally stapled- all done!

they don't give out suckers at the ER?

apparently they don't have '1 scoop' at Culver's either

just because he's adorable.

April 6, 1996

If you know me, you know I'm pretty much an open book.  However, I am a very private person.  I don't like messy things on Facebook, I don't like to share in a bad day often or a fight with Husband, because it's just a moment and it will pass.  I don't like anything that gives me a lot of attention, especially if it's emotional or sad.  To have that attention gives me great anxiety. 

For the first time ever today, I'm putting myself out there.  Often when we feel lead to do something, we can't say why, so I'm just going to go with it.
Plus I figure only about 7 people will actually read this...  per my visit tracker. 

To my Sister:

I remember that morning like yesterday.  Sometimes I let it play over and over in my mind.

The Amish looking woman from ‘the church’ in our living room.  Grandma sobbing on the couch.

I just ran out the front door.  I ran as fast I could.  As fast as I ever had.  I found myself at Granny & Papa’s.  It was 7 a.m.  I couldn’t be there.  They didn’t know.  I couldn’t tell them.  Drained, I went back home. 

I called Meagan.  Her dad couldn’t understand me.  He thought it was a prank call, he almost hung up on me. 

He was so pissed that I was calling so early on a Saturday.

I really canot say how that changed my life.  As long as I can remember, I’ve convinced myself that this is how life is supposed to be.  You were not meant to graduate high school or college, to be in or at my wedding.  To hold my babies.  To be an Aunt.   It was easy for me to do that.  It was so easy for me to say you fulfilled God’s purpose for your life.  The number of people you touched, made smile or left an impression on.  You had a big accepting heart.  Your work here was done.

Early on I was unintentionally out to destroy your memory.  Mom would try to talk about a pleasant memory, I would try to squash her image of you.  You weren’t perfect, you made mistakes, you lied… all I could really think was you knew better.  How could you be so careless, so irresponsible, so selfish, so stupid.

I don’t know how to try to imagine what life would’ve been like with you here. 

My group of friends changed after your accident, so I just can’t help but think, I wouldn’t have hung with that crowd… because they were your friends.  We didn’t get along.  I would not have hung out with you.  I would not have hung out with Megan and Scotty and Wellman… I wouldn’t have become friends with Rhiannon, who brought me to Liz.  And without Liz I wouldn’t have Russ.  And No Russ… well we wouldn’t have our boys. 

So you see why I can’t imagine my life any other way but the way it is.

I do wish  I had someone to reminisce with about childhood.  What mom remembers, what Jason remembers… it’s not what I [we would] remember.  I wish I could call you & say…dude, can you believe they said THIS is what happened?? 

I wish my boys would know ‘Aunt Shannon’ and not ‘Mommy’s sister that died.’

I wish Russ new Mom before the accident.   

For the longest time, I wished it was me.  I thought that would’ve been easier for Mom.  You were her best friend.. I was just a child trying to be independent, find my own self, away from you two.  Months following this, I had Mom convinced I hated her.  Having kids now… that makes me sick.  You never would’ve done that.

I know now, I was a child and as an adult, I know I put too much guilt and responsibility on my little teen self, but that doesn’t just go away or change.  It still creeps in my head, but it can no longer consume me. 

How does a family get over this?  They don’t.  They get through it.  At one point I would’ve said it destroyed our family, but we are still all here and together, so that is a victory.  For a long time I think we brushed off our own pants, dirt off our own shoulders.  I like to think today we stop to help pick off the debris of each other.  All 6 of us, plus my addition of 3 amazing men.

They say I may not have grieved your death.  I’m afraid of what that means.  I don’t know.  I cried alone a lot.  I was 15.  It was about me, not you.  I remember thinking- You had the easy part.

I can’ t say honestly if I did grieve or not.  No one can really guide or teach these things.  Especially to an angry, rebelling teen.  It makes me feel bad to think I didn’t.

17 years.  I’ve lived more of my life without you, than with you.   I remember wondering when you would stop feeling like my big sister, because you died at such a young  age.  I am 14 years passed the age you lived to, I’ve concluded it will never feel any other way.  Even if I can’t imagine an aging Shannon, you will always feel older and wiser.  That was your role to me, after all.

I pray often that you knew Jesus, that you asked him into your heart and you were Saved.  So that we will see you again.

You are missed, you are remembered, you are loved.

Buzz Kill

Two weeks ago Husband took the boys to his parent's for dinner.  I stayed home, in bed, sick.

At the visit Papa mentioned something about clippers... baby... hair... What???  Thankfully Nana squashed that stupid bug quickly.  
After-all, this was not Papa's first baby buzz cut.  His First born's only son was about 6-12 mos old when Papa proposed clippers to her husband. That poor baby did not have a protector around at the time and they buzzed that bay-bay.  Sister-in-law was shocked and devastated to come home to her precious baby's new bald head. 
I cry for her.

Nonetheless, it lit a fire up under Husband.  Eventually, he did nab one of the boys. 
At first, I did not like it.  My thoughtful description-  he looks like a military child from the 1950's.
After the initial shock and after Husband straightened it up (for the most part), I will admit... it's pretty durn cute.  I love how it makes his big blues and round chubby cheeks just pop.

As the week went on, threats of doing the same to my precious teeny tiny baby pursued.  Finally I caved and made an appointment with my Lovely Stylist.

She just cleaned him up a bit.  He has lost all his hair on the sides of his head and back.  He was sporting a natural David Beckham, plus the start of dreads in the back and a lost comb over wisp that would not comb over. 

Befores:

 only pic I have to depict the rats nest in back,

forgive the quality

The adorable after:

with Lovely Stylist

Just when we thought they couldn't be any cuter. 

Here is the Church...

Yesterday after I got home from work, I was lying on the bed in our room feeding ET.
SBR comes in and wants to watch da teebee.

I say... no, let's go to the park instead, Buddy... we have a WHOLE looong hot summer coming that will allow for plenty of teebee time...

To which he says... Mom... let's go to CHUH-CH!!

Aweeeee.... you can see Husband and I swell up with pride.  Our sweet little boy... he loves going to church to play with his friends!  What an angel! 
<sigh>  
I break it to him gently, not wanting to discourage his sweet innocence. 
Not tonight, baby, tomorrow night we go to church!  Tonight, let's go play at the park!

No park, Mommy... Chuh-ch! 

Let's just get you dressed and go for a ride and see where we end up. 

okay!!

As I pull into the park, SBR starts yelling.... Chuh-ch!  Chuh-ch!!  oh, tank you, Mommy!!  giggling profusely with excitement.

oh... I see.  Our church does have a fun little playground, I guess.  Maybe Sunday school needs a better curriculam than- snacks, puppet show, playground.


cute random pics:

ready for summer!

  

SBR brought me flowers.

I cwimb

brotherly love

rock.on.