Here it is almost mid-March and the goal I had of blogging at least twice a month has easily fallen by the way side. Wayside or way side? Hmmm...
In any event, I have found myself in the throes of full-blown overload. Learning we were moving after only two short years back in Texas feels like it was a lifetime ago...that was in January. While I knew we had better get moving on the "to-do" list, I did also feel like we had the proverbial "plenty of time". I'm not feeling that so much these days. On the short list:
1) Work Monday - Wednesday this week (what tha?)
2) Meet the professional house-staging woman on Thursday (which adds more to the list such as Dust Fans, Vaccuum, Make Sure Dirty Underwear and Socks Are Not In View)
3) Bon Jovi concert that same night (cue the list for the babysitter)
4) Squeeze in a play date on Friday (K, L, M - any takers??)
5) Pick up Scott at airport on Saturday (Hallelujah! Did I mention I've been single-parenting it for a week now?)
6) Date night Saturday night (you know, the day before our free meal coupon expires)
7) Flower bed maintenance on Sunday (buyers and their need for curb appeal - bleh)
8) Prepare for garage sale the following weekend
Add to that the fact that the house has been a virtual disaster since Scott left - something in me reverts back to being a sloppy teenager when he's not looking! - so I feel like I'm constantly picking up here and leaving messes there, never really making any meaningful progress. I mean what am I supposed to do when Evan explains that all 82 Hotwheels must stay in the center of the living room facing a turned-over bucket because "they are watching a movie and it's not done yet"? I'll tell you what I did - I left them right there because I didn't have it in me to start the following day with a pre-schooler melt down over why, WHYYY, his cars were moved.
Oh, and my friend-who-runs-crazy-distances-and-enjoys-it turned me on to logging my food intake. I'm not truly dieting but I thought it might be interesting to actually pay attention to what goes into my mouth, no matter what it is. So I took a stab at it yesterday and well, it's just downright embarassing. The calories weren't terrible per se...but the 87 fat grams - holy cow. I mean I knew a red velvet cupcake, hotdog and Sonic burger weren't great choices but EIGHTY SEVEN fat grams...Let's just say I've been more thoughtful about my choices today and I may have even enjoyed a few apple slices - that's right - FRUIT! I even got all dressed and psyched up for a one hour stair climb session at the gym but - woe is me - the childcare didn't open until one today and, well, that just doesn't work for us so I skipped. And I'm terribly sad about it, too.
Here's hoping for a quick week, even if it does include my teen love, Jon Bon Jovi...
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
'Tis The Season
I shouldn't be surprised. I've dealt with this my entire life. A couple of sneezy days and I know to head straight to the pollen count; I'm probably allergic. I remember having some trouble last January, enough that I thought ahead and told myself I should take action ahead of time next time this happens!
I didn't. Misery soon followed.
Not only did the Cedar Pollen blow in and make a mess of my sinuses but it also did quite a number on little Evan's upper respiratory system. It didn't take long to research; the first five days of this year's season were worse than last year's altogether. I knew immediately it was going to be a long battle.
I thought I would tackle it on my own. After several trips to Walgreens and Target and about $50.00 spent on various over the counter meds (well, kind of but try buying two boxes of Claritin-D at a time - I felt like a criminal - "Really, Ms. Pharmacist, I promise I'm not making meth in my kitchen. Look at my swollen face and red eyes; I NEED MORE THAN 15 PILLS FOR MY VERY OBVIOUS ALLERGIC REACTION!") I was defeated. I woke up one Sunday morning, realized I had lost the battle and headed immediately to the nearest urgent care clinic. One steroid shot, a few prescriptions and a couple days later and I was back to normal.
Then there was poor Evan. The continual runny nose didn't alert me; it seems he always has a drippy faucet of varying pressure. But the cough bothered me. It was dry at first then crackly. So, there we were in Dr. Gideon's parking lot; "But I don't want to see Dr. Gideon. My copping is all better. SEE! *cough, cough*." I fully expected a pat on the shoulder and a "It's just a cold but thanks for coming!" Seconds into listening to his chest she gives me a concerned look, "He's wheezing." After a successful in-office breathing treatment she talked to me about two prescription inhalers she'd be giving us. Huh? I've never used an inhaler and neither has Evan. She talked about some contraption that the inhaler fit in, two puffs, four breaths, make sure he rinses after because it can cause thrush...I was getting dizzy trying to keep it all straight. That, plus a new prescription, Singulair, for ongoing allergy relief. So, we have one inhaler for breathing trouble (Albuterol, which luckily doesn't make Evan crazy!) and one for maintenance through the allergy season. The steroid inhaler makes me nervous; I can't just take him off it when we're done. I'll have to call the doctor to come up with a weaning schedule. See, I'm not great about taking medication - prefer not to at all costs - so for my kiddo to be on something that requires weaning kind of freaks me out. That and the fact that steroids can stunt growth among other things...I try not to make myself crazy with these facts.
A little over a week later and we're on the up and up. My symptoms are virtually gone and Evan's coughing has completely stopped. Granted, we're just coming off several days of rain (aka low pollen days). This week will be the real test as the levels rise to very high again.
I called my mom and tried to blame our problems on her; clearly I inherited it from her along with my spider veins and achy shoulders. She says no even though she seems to have a sinus infection at least once a month. There must be a correlation, right? In any case, Evan certainly got it from me and I'm sure I'll get that same call from him in 30 years. You're welcome, Buddy!
I didn't. Misery soon followed.
Not only did the Cedar Pollen blow in and make a mess of my sinuses but it also did quite a number on little Evan's upper respiratory system. It didn't take long to research; the first five days of this year's season were worse than last year's altogether. I knew immediately it was going to be a long battle.
I thought I would tackle it on my own. After several trips to Walgreens and Target and about $50.00 spent on various over the counter meds (well, kind of but try buying two boxes of Claritin-D at a time - I felt like a criminal - "Really, Ms. Pharmacist, I promise I'm not making meth in my kitchen. Look at my swollen face and red eyes; I NEED MORE THAN 15 PILLS FOR MY VERY OBVIOUS ALLERGIC REACTION!") I was defeated. I woke up one Sunday morning, realized I had lost the battle and headed immediately to the nearest urgent care clinic. One steroid shot, a few prescriptions and a couple days later and I was back to normal.
Then there was poor Evan. The continual runny nose didn't alert me; it seems he always has a drippy faucet of varying pressure. But the cough bothered me. It was dry at first then crackly. So, there we were in Dr. Gideon's parking lot; "But I don't want to see Dr. Gideon. My copping is all better. SEE! *cough, cough*." I fully expected a pat on the shoulder and a "It's just a cold but thanks for coming!" Seconds into listening to his chest she gives me a concerned look, "He's wheezing." After a successful in-office breathing treatment she talked to me about two prescription inhalers she'd be giving us. Huh? I've never used an inhaler and neither has Evan. She talked about some contraption that the inhaler fit in, two puffs, four breaths, make sure he rinses after because it can cause thrush...I was getting dizzy trying to keep it all straight. That, plus a new prescription, Singulair, for ongoing allergy relief. So, we have one inhaler for breathing trouble (Albuterol, which luckily doesn't make Evan crazy!) and one for maintenance through the allergy season. The steroid inhaler makes me nervous; I can't just take him off it when we're done. I'll have to call the doctor to come up with a weaning schedule. See, I'm not great about taking medication - prefer not to at all costs - so for my kiddo to be on something that requires weaning kind of freaks me out. That and the fact that steroids can stunt growth among other things...I try not to make myself crazy with these facts.
A little over a week later and we're on the up and up. My symptoms are virtually gone and Evan's coughing has completely stopped. Granted, we're just coming off several days of rain (aka low pollen days). This week will be the real test as the levels rise to very high again.
I called my mom and tried to blame our problems on her; clearly I inherited it from her along with my spider veins and achy shoulders. She says no even though she seems to have a sinus infection at least once a month. There must be a correlation, right? In any case, Evan certainly got it from me and I'm sure I'll get that same call from him in 30 years. You're welcome, Buddy!
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Anxiety Abated
It was about a year ago that I decided I'd better get over my fear of water - er - make that my fear of Evan being near water. There I'd sit on the edge of the baby pool while Evan tried actually playing in the water while wearing a life jacket. At every almost-fall I gasped and reached for him. I'm sure I even did the hysterical-yelling-of-the-kid's-name that parents (at least us crazy ones) do when their child is in danger. Scott had been throughly embarrassed on more than one occasion.
So we signed up for lessons!
Last June Evan and I started our weekly trip to Love to Swim for their Mommy and Me class. It was interesting to have an almost-three-year-old in the water with a group of actual babies. But, since he wasn't old enough for the preschool class and had no skills this is where we had to begin. Little by little my anxiety abated. Every week for thirty minutes we would sing the same songs and go through the same motions. There were days Evan lost his patience; and maybe so did I. There were moments I thought we were getting nowhere. Mostly, though, it was another way for us to do something fun together.
After summer it was time for Evan to join the preschool class. He would be one of four kiddos with one coach; and mommy would have to sit on the other side of the glass. I was apprehensive to say the least. Would he go to a stranger in the water? Would he really learn these skills?
Fast forward to today; Evan rang the bell for the second time and has advanced to Preschool Level 3. I am so proud of him but also completely amazed at how far he has come. Seven months ago he hated putting his face in the water; today he floats on his tummy, head completely submerged for 5 seconds. Before he would sit tentatively on the steps; today he stands in water up to his chest and bobs under repeatedly - and enjoys it!
My goals for him are not that he become a competitive swimmer; heck he doesn't even need to learn a stroke. My goals are much more pragmatic; jump in and get yourself back out and have fun doing it! We're still working on that but already the gains in my and his confidence are immeasurable. And there's also that heart-swelling feeling when he finally gets to ring the bell...
So we signed up for lessons!
Last June Evan and I started our weekly trip to Love to Swim for their Mommy and Me class. It was interesting to have an almost-three-year-old in the water with a group of actual babies. But, since he wasn't old enough for the preschool class and had no skills this is where we had to begin. Little by little my anxiety abated. Every week for thirty minutes we would sing the same songs and go through the same motions. There were days Evan lost his patience; and maybe so did I. There were moments I thought we were getting nowhere. Mostly, though, it was another way for us to do something fun together.
After summer it was time for Evan to join the preschool class. He would be one of four kiddos with one coach; and mommy would have to sit on the other side of the glass. I was apprehensive to say the least. Would he go to a stranger in the water? Would he really learn these skills?
Fast forward to today; Evan rang the bell for the second time and has advanced to Preschool Level 3. I am so proud of him but also completely amazed at how far he has come. Seven months ago he hated putting his face in the water; today he floats on his tummy, head completely submerged for 5 seconds. Before he would sit tentatively on the steps; today he stands in water up to his chest and bobs under repeatedly - and enjoys it!
My goals for him are not that he become a competitive swimmer; heck he doesn't even need to learn a stroke. My goals are much more pragmatic; jump in and get yourself back out and have fun doing it! We're still working on that but already the gains in my and his confidence are immeasurable. And there's also that heart-swelling feeling when he finally gets to ring the bell...
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Three Years
Sweet Birthday Boy,
How is it possible that another year has gone by? It seems like just last week you could barely say "Mama" and just today you told me, "Dude, calm down!".
Your third year amazed your Daddy and me in so many ways. Not only did you learn to speak, you learned to have conversations with us. These days I can ask you questions and you answer easily. You tell me when your tummy hurts. You tell me, "Mommy, yowa my bess fwend".
You sing songs, you spell your name, you count to 20. You can now hang from monkey bars and jump from higher places. You make voices for your toys. You play games with Mommy and Daddy. You take part in small chores.
You talk back. You can be stubborn. You've mastered the art of delaying bedtime. You tell small fibs.
You're a happy, friendly boy. You make friends without hesitation. You happily say hello to strangers.
You're sensitive. You're compassionate. You have good manners even when Mommy's not there to remind you. You even remind Mommy to say, "You're welcome" on occasion.
You still want to snuggle occasionally, you still love your Woobie.
You're in a big boy bed. You're potty trained...well, for the most part.
You're still my baby. You always will be.
Happy Birthday, Buddy. We love you to the moon.
How is it possible that another year has gone by? It seems like just last week you could barely say "Mama" and just today you told me, "Dude, calm down!".
Your third year amazed your Daddy and me in so many ways. Not only did you learn to speak, you learned to have conversations with us. These days I can ask you questions and you answer easily. You tell me when your tummy hurts. You tell me, "Mommy, yowa my bess fwend".
You sing songs, you spell your name, you count to 20. You can now hang from monkey bars and jump from higher places. You make voices for your toys. You play games with Mommy and Daddy. You take part in small chores.
You talk back. You can be stubborn. You've mastered the art of delaying bedtime. You tell small fibs.
You're a happy, friendly boy. You make friends without hesitation. You happily say hello to strangers.
You're sensitive. You're compassionate. You have good manners even when Mommy's not there to remind you. You even remind Mommy to say, "You're welcome" on occasion.
You still want to snuggle occasionally, you still love your Woobie.
You're in a big boy bed. You're potty trained...well, for the most part.
You're still my baby. You always will be.
Happy Birthday, Buddy. We love you to the moon.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
(Mis) Adventures in Potty Training
It really all started 4 months ago. On a sunny Sunday morning I got the bright idea that potty training needed to start - TODAY. Like I was deciding to paint a room or wash the car; let's just get this over with. I mean, he seemed ready. He had been pottying for months now at school. Granted, it was on his own terms and he was still in diapers but he had been sitting and peeing successfully for a while.
And then the pooping messes began. You know the ones (or maybe you're fortunate enough to NOT know "the ones"); big poop-filled diaper induces two-year-old into a stupor of curiosity about what it's all about. So he puts his chubby little hands down his pants and pulls them out with wonder..."What's that?" I was done with clipping poop-filled finger nails. It was time to potty train.
Roughly two days in and we were done. The teachers in his class said it best when they learned that we had thrown in the towel, "Mommy gave up." It was a combination of things; Evan seemed to care less that pee was dripping down his leg at irregular intervals, I was sick and Daddy was out of town. So, back to diapers we went.
Three months later I decided we had to stop putting off the inevitable. There was never going to be a "good time"; the good time was now. Coincidentally, the weekend I decided to begin training was the weekend Daddy decided he needed to "catch up" at work. Funny how that works.
So there we were, Evan in underwear and a t-shirt and me waiting patiently for him to look at me with those big blue eyes and say the magical words, "Mommy, I need to go pee-pee." I was in for it. He pee'd on the potty and then immediately in his pants. He pee'd on the floor, he pee'd in his chair...endless streams of pee that seemed to come out of nowhere and right after he went on the potty. All I clearly remember from that day was one moment when we were both sitting on the rug outside the bathroom and both crying in despair.
And then there was Sunday; what a difference a day makes. He was actually getting it. He still was not verbalizing the need but he was holding it for periods of time and having fewer and fewer accidents. By the end of that first week he was down to one accident per day.
Fast forward to mid-June when we took a two-week trip to Louisiana. By this time I knew Evan was having two issues -pooping on the potty and using public toilets. He would do neither! So I bought a potty seat and figured we would use that on the road. It actually worked perfectly. "I need go pee-pee" - pull over on shoulder at next exit - I jumped in the backseat and unstrapped Evan while Daddy retrieved the potty from the trunk - pants down, sit, pee - Daddy dumped pee while I strapped Evan in the carseat and we were off again. We were like the pit crew at NASCAR by the time we arrived.
And then there was the Day at Dillards. Probably my worst potty day ever - worse that that very first day. My mom and I decided we would get out of the house, do some shopping and let Evan play at the germ gym - ahem - mall playground. I brought the potty seat in the car - still no sign of Evan being interested in pottying in public (apparently he gets this from me - I got to hear all the stories of semblance repeatedly during our stay). No sooner do we get comfortable at the playground do I see him wiggle. "Do you need to go pee-pee, Buddy?" Back into the stroller, out of the playground, down the corridor, up the elevator of Dillards and to the bathroom we went (those blessed to have potty trained understand that's quite a lot of time to lapse between "I need to go" and going!). Cue the screaming fit in the bathroom stall as half-naked, shoeless (because who's ever heard of peeing with your shoes on!) two-year-old loses his mind when he realizes this is the only option. "I want the ITTLE POTTTTTTTYYYYY!!!!" Sweating and running out of time we get back in the stroller and race back through the mall to the car. And what do you know? By the time we got there he had wet his pants. Deep breaths - no problem. I decided it might be best to go the Pull-Up route to get us through the rest of this outing.
Back in the stroller and back to the playground we went. Uh-oh, what's this I see? More wiggling and "Mommy, OWWW WEEEEE!" By now I knew this was the cue for poop. At this point I'm wondering what I could have possibly done to make God so angry with me. So there he was, clearly pooping in his pants in the playground. Back into the stroller and back to Dillards we went. All clean and donning yet another diaper-disguised-as-a-training-pant-so-we-all-feel-like-we're-training-when-really-we're-just-letting-them-pee-their-pants-with-no-mess-to-clean, I let him play right through what should have been naptime. We both deserved it.
Since then we've made great strides; that's right, both of us. Evan poops in his underwear everyday and we dump it in the potty everyday and incessantly talk about how yucky it is and how it's so not scary to poop in the potty...everyday. And I'm okay with that. I find solace in the fact that he will not always find it acceptable to poop in his pants. The rest of it has been going absolutely great. He stays dry through most naps and even most nights, even though I still put him in his "special night-time Diego pants". He tells me when he needs to go potty and, as of late, I've actually caught him sitting on the potty all by himself without ever having alerted me. Not bad for 7 weeks in.
With all my angst and fear and apprehension (and even after the episodes we've been through), I can honestly say it was better than I expected. Much, much better.
Oddly enough I'm not one of those moms who couldn't wait to be rid of diapers. I enjoyed changing him, I enjoyed the baby smell of the diapers, I enjoyed that he still needed me that much. One more chapter of Evan's Babyhood has closed and another opened....
~"It's not scary, Mommy. It looks like Play-Doh!"~ Evan R. 2yrs
And then the pooping messes began. You know the ones (or maybe you're fortunate enough to NOT know "the ones"); big poop-filled diaper induces two-year-old into a stupor of curiosity about what it's all about. So he puts his chubby little hands down his pants and pulls them out with wonder..."What's that?" I was done with clipping poop-filled finger nails. It was time to potty train.
Roughly two days in and we were done. The teachers in his class said it best when they learned that we had thrown in the towel, "Mommy gave up." It was a combination of things; Evan seemed to care less that pee was dripping down his leg at irregular intervals, I was sick and Daddy was out of town. So, back to diapers we went.
Three months later I decided we had to stop putting off the inevitable. There was never going to be a "good time"; the good time was now. Coincidentally, the weekend I decided to begin training was the weekend Daddy decided he needed to "catch up" at work. Funny how that works.
So there we were, Evan in underwear and a t-shirt and me waiting patiently for him to look at me with those big blue eyes and say the magical words, "Mommy, I need to go pee-pee." I was in for it. He pee'd on the potty and then immediately in his pants. He pee'd on the floor, he pee'd in his chair...endless streams of pee that seemed to come out of nowhere and right after he went on the potty. All I clearly remember from that day was one moment when we were both sitting on the rug outside the bathroom and both crying in despair.
And then there was Sunday; what a difference a day makes. He was actually getting it. He still was not verbalizing the need but he was holding it for periods of time and having fewer and fewer accidents. By the end of that first week he was down to one accident per day.
Fast forward to mid-June when we took a two-week trip to Louisiana. By this time I knew Evan was having two issues -pooping on the potty and using public toilets. He would do neither! So I bought a potty seat and figured we would use that on the road. It actually worked perfectly. "I need go pee-pee" - pull over on shoulder at next exit - I jumped in the backseat and unstrapped Evan while Daddy retrieved the potty from the trunk - pants down, sit, pee - Daddy dumped pee while I strapped Evan in the carseat and we were off again. We were like the pit crew at NASCAR by the time we arrived.
And then there was the Day at Dillards. Probably my worst potty day ever - worse that that very first day. My mom and I decided we would get out of the house, do some shopping and let Evan play at the germ gym - ahem - mall playground. I brought the potty seat in the car - still no sign of Evan being interested in pottying in public (apparently he gets this from me - I got to hear all the stories of semblance repeatedly during our stay). No sooner do we get comfortable at the playground do I see him wiggle. "Do you need to go pee-pee, Buddy?" Back into the stroller, out of the playground, down the corridor, up the elevator of Dillards and to the bathroom we went (those blessed to have potty trained understand that's quite a lot of time to lapse between "I need to go" and going!). Cue the screaming fit in the bathroom stall as half-naked, shoeless (because who's ever heard of peeing with your shoes on!) two-year-old loses his mind when he realizes this is the only option. "I want the ITTLE POTTTTTTTYYYYY!!!!" Sweating and running out of time we get back in the stroller and race back through the mall to the car. And what do you know? By the time we got there he had wet his pants. Deep breaths - no problem. I decided it might be best to go the Pull-Up route to get us through the rest of this outing.
Back in the stroller and back to the playground we went. Uh-oh, what's this I see? More wiggling and "Mommy, OWWW WEEEEE!" By now I knew this was the cue for poop. At this point I'm wondering what I could have possibly done to make God so angry with me. So there he was, clearly pooping in his pants in the playground. Back into the stroller and back to Dillards we went. All clean and donning yet another diaper-disguised-as-a-training-pant-so-we-all-feel-like-we're-training-when-really-we're-just-letting-them-pee-their-pants-with-no-mess-to-clean, I let him play right through what should have been naptime. We both deserved it.
Since then we've made great strides; that's right, both of us. Evan poops in his underwear everyday and we dump it in the potty everyday and incessantly talk about how yucky it is and how it's so not scary to poop in the potty...everyday. And I'm okay with that. I find solace in the fact that he will not always find it acceptable to poop in his pants. The rest of it has been going absolutely great. He stays dry through most naps and even most nights, even though I still put him in his "special night-time Diego pants". He tells me when he needs to go potty and, as of late, I've actually caught him sitting on the potty all by himself without ever having alerted me. Not bad for 7 weeks in.
With all my angst and fear and apprehension (and even after the episodes we've been through), I can honestly say it was better than I expected. Much, much better.
Oddly enough I'm not one of those moms who couldn't wait to be rid of diapers. I enjoyed changing him, I enjoyed the baby smell of the diapers, I enjoyed that he still needed me that much. One more chapter of Evan's Babyhood has closed and another opened....
~"It's not scary, Mommy. It looks like Play-Doh!"~ Evan R. 2yrs
Friday, March 12, 2010
Since when...
Since when did you become so caring of others, running off to get an "ice pack" (really, just grabbing a kitchen towel off the counter and balling it up) and putting it to mommy's nose when I commented that I was not feeling well?Since when did you become so picky about your corn touching your strawberries on your plate?
Since when did you learn to add sarcasm to your tone?
Since when did you learn phrases like, "Comin' right up!", "What are you doing now?", and
"O-kayyy, Mommy!"
Since when did you decide time out was a better alternative than cleaning up your toys?
Since when did you become so tall you can wash your hands by yourself?
Since when did you learn to pretend; filling cups in the bathtub with water and offering mommy "cake" or hiding in the makeshift fort daddy made and whispering, "I hear a ghost"?
Since when did you start taking off your shoes at the door and putting away your dirty dishes without being asked?
Since when did you decide you're a "big boy" and no longer a baby?
Since when do you have full conversations with Granny and Paw Paw on the phone?
Since when did you become so aware of your friends? When asked, "Who do you love?" you promptly respond with "Uke (Luke), Teepee (Petey), Beuh (Bear)and Ayex (Alex)".
Since when did you learn to be proud of your accomplishments? When you finally do pee pee on the potty you give a big grin and, in a sing-song way you immediately say, "I pee-pee'd on the POT-TY!". You'll often learn a new way to play with a toy after being encouraged to try and then yelp, "I did IT!"
Since when does the doorbell ring and you run to answer it yelling, "Come in!"
Since when did you learn the names of your favorite TV characters?
Since when does 30 months feel like 30 minutes?
My sweet, sweet Evan. You're more and more a little boy, full of independence and eagerness to understand the world around you. You're so happy and full of life. You fill our days with laughter and amazement. There's not a day that goes by that I'm not struck with awe that we created you, this little being with his own mind and ideas and opinions and personality. You say and do things everyday that make daddy and me smile, laugh, and sometimes wonder "Where did he get that?" You are still a toddler, too. You shout, "NO, Mommy" more often that I'd like to hear it and you are all too familiar with time out and being sent to your room. I'll take the bad with all the good, though, because I can't imagine life without you.
You're two and a half now, buddy. I can't imagine you being funnier and smarter and more loving than you are right now but I know you have lots more in store for us. May you continue to grow and learn and be happy.
We love you,
Mommy
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Quarter in Review
My goodness how time has gotten away from me! The sad truth is that everytime I looked at how long it had been since I posted an update the more overwhelming it was to do it!
I decided on pulling just a few pictures that represented our first Fall back in Texas. Hopefully this suffices as catching up...
Enjoy!
I decided on pulling just a few pictures that represented our first Fall back in Texas. Hopefully this suffices as catching up...
Enjoy!
We waited until the heat passed before venturing out to the San Antonio Zoo back in September. It was actually a first for all of us and much enjoyed...
I must say pumpkin patches in TX just aren't the same as MD where you find usually find yourself at an orchard on a crisp Fall day complete with corn mazes and hay rides, hot cider and fresh kettle corn. This was taken at a quick stop off the road where a local church was selling pumpkins. We enjoyed it none-the-less; watching Evan run through the pumpkins and stopping just briefly enough for us to capture maybe two quick shots!
Halloween arrived and Evan donned the hand-me-down Dino costume that originally belonged to his friend, Jack. He got the hang of things quickly as he took off down the sidewalk with his new friends leading the way! If I remember correctly he was double-fisting "pops" before we returned home!
Thanksgiving '09! This was our first trip home in almost a year and first Thanksgiving in Baton Rouge since we were married! We enjoyed celebrating with both our families. Evan traveled exceptionally well; it's amazing what nuggets, fries, and a DVD player can do for you in the car!
Merry Christmas! We headed to Baton Rouge again to be with our families for the holiday. It was still too soon for Evan to really grasp what was going on but he did seem to enjoy it a bit more this year!
And with that, 2010 was upon us....
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