Blink!

Well, Will is growing up so fast these days, I can't seem to blog fast enough to document all his awesomeness.  Every time I blink he's doing something new (and awesome). 

Since our last 'chat', Will got his first tooth and fed himself some cereal puffs. 

First Tooth: 6/7/2012 - 7 months 3 days old. 

First Fed Himself: 6/14/2012 - 7 months 10 days old

Teething wasn't a big deal for us.  In fact, we didn't even realize he had a tooth coming in until the day before it erupted.  He was a little extra fussy that day, so I jokingly said, "he must be teething."  But, sure enough, when I checked - there was a tooth coming in.

He has not been very cooperative in getting photos of his crooked little bottom-left tooth.  Every time I try he either squirms away or sticks his tongue out.  So, this blurry little number is all you get. And, yes, that little white thing is a tooth, not food - although the state of his face might mislead you.  haha.

I got a video of him eating (and the extreme concentration involved), but I recorded it with my phone, so it's sideways, so I won't post it here.  If you have a mobile device, however (so you can turn it the right direction) and wish to see it, I'm happy to share.   So, instead, here's a picture of his bead head this morning. 

Happy Friday.

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Seven

Monday was lil' Will's 7 month birthday.  I, quite literally, can't believe I have a 7 month old child.  Time just slips away so quickly.  I've been loving every minute of it. 

He's got the best little personality.  He loves life, he's engaged and a bit stubborn.  He's smart and happy and quite content to entertain himself for bursts of time. 

He's getting to be a better and better sleeper.  I'm still up about once a night with him, but never for too long. 

He still hasn't gotten any teeth, but we've introduced lots of new foods to him and he [pretty much] likes everything.  Since we last talked, he's added avocado, beef, chicken, ham, pineapple, yogurt, butternut squash, broccoli, green beans, carrots, turkey (not a fan), and little puffs (banana and mango flavored) to his menu.  He can hold his own bottle and likes to grab the spoon while he eats sometimes, but he's not a self-feeder yet. 

He's a good little sitter.  He can't get himself into (or out of) the sitting position, but once he's there, he's happy.  He's also getting to be quite a mover.  He can't crawl (on his belly) yet, but he scoots around on his back (pushes with his legs and travels around on the back of his head) and rolls and pivots on his belly.  Last night he was all over his room - from one end to the other. 

He likes to chat.  This morning when I woke up, I could hear him babbling to himself.  So, I went into his room and he had turned on his mobile and was talking to it and grinning like a mad man.  It was fantastic.

Watch the following video if you are looking for a reason to smile today. 



He's got the babas and the mamas and sometimes even a dada down pretty well.  My favorite is when he will sometimes just shout mom!  He doesn't know what he's saying, but it makes me so happy.

We've got a business trip at the end of the month - and both Will and I are very excited to see Grandma G when she comes to nanny him for a few days. 

Hard to believe he'll be almost 8 months by then.  Hopefully, for Grandma's sake, he's not really crawling by then, or she'll have her work cut out for her. 


We love you, Will.

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Zoo!

Yesterday was an exciting day.  Will's first trip to the zoo!  We took a short drive down to a nearby town with some friends and their 6 month old baby boy and had a blast meeting the bison, and tigers, and bears.  Oh, my! 

 

 

Will loved every minute of it.  It was SO nice to have the day off at the same time as Geoff and get to have a "family" day.  Hopefully we can find a way to do that more often.  Our work schedules currently make it rough, but it was great. 

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Ode to Frank Sinatra

I've often wondered what it was going to take for me to feel like an 'adult.' 

I've gotten married, graduated college, had a 'real' job, birthed a child, achieved silver status with the Delta SkyMiles program - but none of it made me feel like a grown up. 

And then, yesterday, it happened. 

I was driving home from work listening to the local pop station as I usually do.  There are a few songs out right now I really like (I can't get enough of this one or this one).  But, for the most part, it's pretty crappy music.  So, the radio DJ informs me that he's going to play the new song by Usher, Scream.  Immediately, I'm excited.  My mind imagines a fun song reminiscent of Usher's reign over the year 2004-2005 where every song he released was AWESOME. 

Then I heard it.  Honestly, the sound is alright.  But, the lyrics.  I actually had to change the station.  I thought what is the world coming to? And then I realized - the song isn't any more offensive then "Yeah," I'm just generally offended by pop music (don't even get me started on "Wild Ones"). 

And so it happened, I'm an adult. 

So, now, I must express my sincere appreciation for my Michael Buble Pandora station and the music of Frank Sinatra and his contemporaries. 

Let's do a compare and contrast, shall we? 

Some lyrics from Usher's previously mentioned single (Note: Subtlety is not his strong suit.  Note to men out there: Subtlety is sexy): "I see you over there, so hypnotic. Thinking 'bout what I do to that body.  I get you like ooh baby baby.  Got no drink in my hand, but I'm wasted getting drunk of the thought of you naked. I get you like ooh baby baby...Got one life, just live it, just live it.  Now relax and get on your back."

Some lyrics from the Sinatra song "Make Someone Happy" that came on while I was cleaning last night: "Fame, if you win it, comes and goes in a minute. Where's the real stuff in life to cling to? Love is the answer, someone to love is the answer. Once you've found her, build your world around her. Make someone happy. Make just one someone happy and you will be happy too."

So, thank you, Mr. Sinatra, for reminding men (and women) everywhere that there's nothing wrong with a little tenderness.  That there is more to love then lust (however marketable).  And that, eventually, we all become adults and realize that love, not lust, is what we really wanted anyway.

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Mondays.

Mondays really are the hardest day of the week. 

Not just because:

1) They signify the end of the weekend.
2) Between me starting the work day at 7:30am and Geoff ending his work day at 9:30pm, it means I've got five straight days where I see him for about 3 hours a day. 
3) I usually wake up to find that I really DO wish I'd finished that load of dishes the night before.
4) I go from having driven the 2011 Kia Optima all weekend to driving the 1994 VW Passat. 

But mostly because after spending two straight days at home with my boy - leaving to go to work is the worst.  I cherish my weekends so much these days.  Will and I have such a great schedule figured out.  Between grocery shopping, visiting dad at work, and cleaning together on Saturday and church and cooking on Sunday (not to mention a lot of playing, napping and, sometimes, skyping with grandma) our weekends are wonderful. 

I'm glad he gets to spend his days with his dad...but every Monday breaks my heart just a little. 

And I even like my job.  So, I guess it could be even worse!

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Where's Your Money?

So, I was thinking about baby names the other day.  And, no, I'm not expecting more children anytime soon. 

I happened like this. 

I spend a lot of time at Walmart.  There is a Super (Dooper) Walmart about a mile from my house and it's a go-to most days of the week to grab what I've forgotten here or there. 

And, thus, my mind began to wander (as it so often does) and I thought what if we had to name our children after the places we spend the most discretionary money? 

With the amount of time I spend at Walmart and Burlington, we'd have Wally and Burl. 

Geoff's visits to McDonald's and DQ would certainly end us up with a Ronald and Queenie. 

But then comes the question - how do you name your child after Tutti Fruiti (self-.serve frozen yogurt bar)?

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Arachnophobia

So, I'm afraid of spiders. To anyone who knows me, this is not a surprising statement.
It all stems from a night of terrible parenting (thanks mom), when, at the tender age of 5, I was allowed to watch Arachnophobia.  It's a terrible movie by anyone's standards, but the premise of deadly spiders running rampant and attacking [and killing] people was pretty upsetting. 

Yet, I had managed to come to terms with the 8 legged creatures and had no trouble killing them when they had the unfortunate happenstance to saunter into my presence. 

And then, it happened.  I've never really blogged about this event before.  Mostly because it occurred pre-blog and I really try to forget it ever happened.  But, since that fateful day, the sight of a spider (or pretty much any creeping crawling thing) leaves me feeling dry-mouthed and covered in pins and needles for hours. 

I was sitting at my desk in the old BYUB building in Utah.  I was working on data entry, I'm sure, when I felt a slight movement on my head (I will have you know, just writing this story is making me feel light-headed).  I instinctively reached up and ran my fingers through my hair to clear out whatever was on my head.  Into the trash can [conveniently] located to my right fell the largest spider I have ever seen with my own two eyes. 

I exaggerate not, it was the size of my palm.  The only witness I have to event was a fellow student employee who took my trash can, killed the spider and then proceeded to examine him to see if he was poisonous. 

I think I was in shock.  I didn't scream.  I didn't cry.  I just was frozen.  Said student employee commented on how well I handled the situation.  I tried to sit down at my desk and finish the work day - but, honestly, I couldn't.  I mean - WHERE DID THE SPIDER COME FROM?  How did it get on my head?  Did that mean it had crawled up my body?  Or my chair?  Or had it come dangling down from above and plopped there?  None of the prospects made sitting at that desk remotely possible for the rest of the day.  So, I found non-desk-related work to keep my busy...although I've never spent so much time looking over my shoulder or running my hands through my hair. 

Now, whenever I see a spider, I instinctively run my hands through my hair - an action I have taken about 20 times while writing this tale - and then (after killing the little monster) abandon whatever task I was doing for something seemingly spider free. 

So, the moral of the story?  Spiders suck. 

Carry on.

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