Quote of the Day

"I'm not a Heigh-Ho Boy!"

~Lennon Kailee Sweet

This she adamantly stated, while crossing her arms forcefully and pouting, upon hearing her parents describe her attitude as being "grumpy".

Bye-bye Baby Locks

I don't think any mother with a daughter enjoys the Battle of the Brush, the tug-o-war, the push and pull, the sheer terror of trying to comb/brush/style her toddler's hair. As much as I love long hair, especially on Lennon, the daily struggle, effort and tears had to finally come to an end. Too many times have I had to vice grip Lennon into a chair or onto my lap so that I could comb out boogers, applesauce, lollipops, rice, cheese, etc. So today Lennon got her first major hair cut.

I have mixed feelings about this rite of passage. I did not cry, though I wanted to at least once. I certainly did not want to be "that mom". But to see her beautiful, silky baby hair fall to the floor was a bit tragic. I felt like it was an end of an era, that I was shoving my daughter out of baby/toddlerhood. I can't help feeling like I have a big girl now, a completely different daughter. I even briefly thought: "Is my daughter now more stylish than me?" The unfortunate answer is yes. She's rocking the Suri Cruise bob in her skinny jeans and knee high, black boots. I think I may now need to up my game...

It was a fun drive home from the salon and Lennon couldn't wait to call her Mimi and spread the news of her hair cut. Of course in calling Mimi there ended up being ONE thing that was able to trump my feelings of melancholy and nostalgia brought on by Lennon's new 'do. Mimi kindly reminded me that in two very short months I will be a mother of a 3 year old. AHHHHHH!

Thanks Mom! Now I can't blame my complete lack of exercise on my carrying baby weight.

I Must Be Crazy! or What Were We Thinking?

Yes, the rumors are true. The Sweet-Wong Family has welcomed a new addition into the house. Please welcome Ember Sweet, born May 9th, 2010 (MOTHER'S DAY) in Corvallis, Oregon. She is an Orange Roan Brittany and the only precious girl from the whole litter of six.

Josh and I have always wanted a dog. In fact, before we found out we were pregnant with Lennon we were discussing getting a dog or going on a trip to Disneyland. Both plans were put on hold once that stick turned blue. Or was it pink? Either way, the puppy had to wait as we adjusted to becoming parents. Well now that we are parents of a toddler it seemed like the perfect time to revisit those two previous discussions, and the puppy idea won out. Are we crazy? Probably.

Just like preparing for a new human infant, so must you prepare for a new canine infant--and you are never quite as prepared as you think you are for either. Ember has only been under our care for one evening and one full day and I am already beside myself with worry that I will screw her up and not be the best dog owner I can be. Could this be transference? In this short amount of time I have already wracked up more Mommy guilt and gotten a taste of what sibling rivalry may be like.

Lennon loves her puppy just as she would a new brother or sister: when it's convenient for her. Josh and I knew that this was a possibility and we knew that living with two strong willed toddlers would be a challenge. The fact that this would be obviously evident in just a day and a half was not what I was expecting, and now I am fearful for the week ahead.

When I imagined bringing a dog into our family I imagined a Norman Rockwell type picture: a Mommy and a Daddy constantly working together to train, feed, and clean up after the little ball of fur as the young Daughter becomes ever the angelic little helper. As Sunday nears its end I am faced with the harsh reality: I have signed up for 10 1/2 hours, 5 days a week, of serious alone time with two consistently needy, whining and vulnerable toddlers. Hmmmmmm. Let's hope that I don't turn to the bottom of a very stiff bottle.

As daunting as these next few weeks are and as challenging as they will be I cannot help but feel completely happy at the fact that Josh and I are really truly achieving our goals, however big or small they will be and however long they take to meet. Both of us have always wanted to have our own dog, and here she is. There is something extremely satisfying and fortifying in this thought. I hope to be reminded of that daily in the coming weeks. If I can handle consistently potty training both daughter and doggie this month, without driving myself completely mad, I am pretty sure I could handle anything and everything. At the very least I should earn a great reward in the future----maybe a date night? A diamond ring perhaps? A girl can dream....

With Ember now in the family Lennon is coming into her own new challenges: vying for Mom and Dad's attention, reverting back to diapers and refusing to use the potty, etc. This girl doesn't miss a beat and is so smart she has already started blaming the puppy for her misbehavior. Then again she has also continued to blame her cousins Addy and Wyatt (who is not even born yet). With Josh and I throwing a pretty big wrench in her pleasant, easy-going routine we will have to be extra sensitive to her needs and carve out special time just for her. What perfect training for Baby #2! Right?

Thank goodness Ember has taken to our home well. We have encountered the usual hiccups with owning a new puppy, but the accidents are few and far between. She loves to cuddle! Finally a daughter who will let me cuddle her! She of course loves to nap and she loves dragging around her stuffed squirrel, which I hope will be good practice for future back-yard squirrel hunting. She gets up frequently during the night, whining for company and a potty break. Josh has been fantastic in taking those shifts this weekend, so it hasn't affected my sleep too much and hasn't even bothered Lennon a bit. Though I am sure we will have to trade shifts during the week so as not to affect his job performance---blah-blah-blah. The thing that he is completely right about (though I hate to admit it) is what my greatest challenge will be: being firm and consistent with Ember.

Just like with Lennon, I will have to get comfortable with being firm with Ember. Ugh! It's so hard when she looks as cute as she does and being as small as she is. The little doll just melts my heart. But, just like Lennon I am sure those feelings will come and go and hopefully I can get in some good training in between my delirious love for her. I mean, I take the same stance with my Beastie Girl and she hasn't turned out bad---yet.

Potty Training is No Picnic: Part 2

Urinary tract infections aren't pleasant and as an adult when you get one, you know. This is not so when you are a 2 year old just learning how to use the potty. When you are a 2 year old just learning how to use the potty you are constantly announcing your bathroom visits to your parents. You're giving them constant updates about your, well, let's just call her Gina (pronounced Geena). Gina normally doesn't have any problems, but then halfway into the training process you start telling your parents that Gina hurts. The incessant updates begin to make your parents wonder if maybe there really is something wrong, but how to check and know that there is an issue? If your mother is Tawnie Wong, you Google it. And this is where I found out that potty training may make you act like an insane person, but suspecting that your daughter has a U.T.I truly makes you a lunatic of a person.

I have done things that I never thought I would ever have---or would ever---want to do all because I am now a mother and it all began with Googling Toddler U.T.Is. Thank the Lord I decided to opt out on looking at the picture portions of my "research". I am ashamed to admit that I followed Google's advice and promptly began taking at home urine samples, inspecting that urine and even, yes it's true, getting up close and personal with Lennon's friend Gina (and it is here that you should be glad I am not providing too much detail). After all my efforts all signs pointed to something being amiss with poor little Gina. Finally I could warrant calling the doctor (God forbid that I actually listen to my intuition and do that to begin with).

Of course our pediatrician wanted to see us right away and I promptly got an appointment. Being the "always be prepared" type mother that I am I of course had a few questions to get answered prior to our appointment. Would Lennon need to give the Doctor a fresh urine sample? Yes. So keep her extremely hydrated. Would the doctor be extracting this sample via a catheter? No. Not unless Lennon could not give one in the course of our appointment, and since she is doing so well potty training this shouldn't be a problem. Riiiiight.....

I am very blessed to have a daughter who loves going to the doctor. This could be because she has a hypochondriac for a mother, but I choose to think it's because she has an inkling to be in a medical profession (preferably a high paid, highly recommended and highly lauded surgeon). So getting Lennon to the doctor is never ever an issue. She loves showing off at the doctor's office to all the receptionists, nurses and pediatricians. She loves asking questions about the medical tools. She is even a fabulous listener and follows all the doctor's and nurse's directions. This day, however, was not just any other day.

Lennon refused to follow any of my or the doctor's directions. She flipped her lid at every tool the doctor brought out and cried bloody murder if it came so much as a foot away from her. No sticker and no treat could pry my kid's will. Then came the request for a urine sample. Well, to cut to the chase--after almost 25 minutes of clawing, scratching, wiggling and screaming in the bathroom and generally refusing to let her pee go, as my hand searched for just one drop of pee to put in the cup, she pees (and probably out of sheer terror since I hit a new low and began threatening her). Where does the small bit of pee she was willing to let go end up going? Down my arm. As I tried to pool some of this "sample" into the sterilized cup this was the one and only time I ever wished to have a son. The two of us then left the restroom covered in three major bodily fluids: tears, sweat and urine (I brought most of the urine).

As we broke free from our toileted prison I got "the look" from all the nurses. You know "the look". It's a look of dogged pity and harsh criticism combined. Pity for Lennon and criticism for me. Poor Sweet Lennon on the one hand, and Evil Pee Extractor Lady on the other. Then the cherry on top of this shitty sundae: Lennon did not provide ENOUGH pee to test. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! So, what do they ask me to do? I must stay and coax the pee out of her for as long as it takes. Uh-uh, no way, no how. Catheter? Nope, that may make the situation worse by traumatizing her more. So now my punishment for my past deeds is to lock myself in a bathroom with my toddler and make her pee into a cup, providing she give enough pee to put in said cup. Where's Daddy when you really need him??

Thank the Lord there was one light at the end of this tunnel: Grandma Sweet's house. Grandma Sweet's house is right around the way from our pediatrician's office and of course Lennon loves, loves, loves, Grandma Sweet's house. It's a house full of fun, constant attention and treats. The perfect place to potty. I was able to convince the staff to give me a pee package to go: 1 sterile swab, 1 sterilized cup complete with Lennon's name on the label and 1 bio-hazard bag. We are allowed to go to Grandma's, a relaxing and pleasant environment, package in hand and collect Lennon's sample there.

It only took about a half hour of Uncle Cody (age 6) to make Lennon laugh, Grandma supplying a constant supply of drinking water/bribes and my hand crushed beneath Lennon's rear and in a toilet to collect a full and adequate sample. A sample which I quickly ran to back to the office, only to be re-routed to the Hospital's Lab. With all the money we pay for insurance and money given directly to the pediatrician's office, I had to deliver the sample to the lab myself. Oh motherhood! How I love thee!

Now the really funny thing about this story is that Lennon's lab results were inconclusive. She had a higher level of abnormal cells in her urine, which COULD indicate an infection but not such a high level of abnormal cells that indicate a full infection. You may be asking yourselves, so what does that mean? Well my friends, that means I had to experience this all over again!

Two year olds are twice the fun!

Potty Training Is No Picnic!: Part 1

Yesterday was the official start date of potty training Lennon and my-oh-my was it a loooong day. Thank goodness Josh and I were both home to kick it off because having another set of hands was essential.

I suppose I am self inflicting this torture all other parents and child rearing experts call "Potty Training". I mean it's not like Lennon can't still wear diapers, they're somewhat fashionable and they'd keep the boys away at 16, right? I am just so ready to stop spending money on the damn things and I wonder if I completely lost my mind. Yes, I have succumbed to some pressure from the peanut gallery. Everyone has an opinion of course, and if Lennon ever wants to attend preschool the diapers need to be dumped. But there has to be an easier way to go about potty training without feeling like a complete crazy, hermit-like woman covered in pee, poo, stickers and M&Ms.

You hear about girls being easy to potty train (apparently I was one of these girls), but honestly I don't think that's the case. At least it isn't the case with our delightfully head strong, independent daughter. No amount of pretty panties and treats will coerce her into thinking that her diapers aren't the bees knees. She would prefer to "go" in them and sit in it; she'd prefer to layer her panties over her diapers, and since she is a younger toddler the concept of getting fantastic cash and prizes or the privilege of going to preschool is way over her head. Or is it? I swear she is just too smart for any kind of cajoling and she secretly knows that I am desperate for her to be out of diapers so she chooses to wet and shit herself on purpose just to spite me. I mean sheesh! What kinda lady is she?! A girl not into pretty panties? Apparently I have not set a good example of how lovely it is to wear pretty and fresh lingerie. Note to self: Start wearing my underwear around the house more often.

After much discussion and reading of potty training materials Josh and I decided that for the first week of Official Potty Training we (and I use the word we very loosely since I am obviously the one who is home more) would aggressively potty train and stay home for a week, letting Lennon be naked so that she could get used to and understand her "potty signals". I was all gung-ho with this plan---that is until two days in. By Tuesday I was seriously considering my sanity and wondering if I would have to booze it up for the majority of my days just to get through potty training. Yes, it was much easier for Lennon to understand her signals while being naked and that actually worked better than letting her roam around the house in panties, which she treated just like a diaper anyway. The hiccup however is never leaving your home. The farthest Lennon and I ventured was to the porch to collect the mail. I suppose if we had a bigger house I wouldn't have felt this cabin fever until later in the week, but seeing as how we have a house of smaller size I lost it by mid-week. It took talking with my girlfriend over once gargantuan margarita to decide that this method may have been working for Lennon, but that it was not working for me and that now was the perfect time for me to be selfish. By the end of the week I nixed the no going out of the house plan and decided to ease up and try and take a more relaxing approach to potty training. I tried to go with the flow, I handled each challenge one by one and I invested in a lot of M&Ms, hand soap, Clorox wipes and laundry detergent (I should have really invested in a washer woman since poo and panties really do not mix).

All in all I have to say that I am sure the beginning of our potty training could have gone a lot worse, at least that's what I am continuing to telling myself. It only took Lennon a week to start going to the potty without Josh and I having to constantly remind her, but then of course karma/God/the-powers-that-be chose to rear their ugly heads and put me in my place for getting all excited about our progress. Da-da-da-daaaa!: The UTI scare.

Family Fun

This past weekend Josh and I temporarily added a new addition to our family: Mr. Iggy Pug Manley. We thought it would be great practice to dog-sit for my best friend Clair since we are hoping to officially add to our family this summer. Yep, that's right folks--Josh and I have finally grown up. This time around we are planning for our newest baby, all 20lbs of slobbery, furry goodness. We'll be sure to send out a birth announcement when we hear that the insemination took.

Anywho....While Clair spent a fun-filled weekend with her female family members we welcomed Iggy into our home. It certainly didn't take much time for Iggy to make himself comfortable. He proceeded to to snuggle up on the couch while chewing his favorite ball. Oh-but little did he know that this was no vacation for him with Beastie lurking just around the corner.

Lennon was ecstatic to have Iggy for a two-night sleepover. Anytime there is a living creature smaller than her to boss around she's on cloud nine. With Lennon around Iggy was in constant motion and on high alert. He became her personal puppy puppet. Lennon has mastered many sentences since Iggy came to stay, including: "NO IGGY STOP!", "Iggy come here!", "Iggy go potty!" and "Good boy, Iggy." Poor Baby Reese was chucked out of her place of honor in the doll stroller and Iggy proudly took her place--if only I was able to capture it all on camera! Of course these two toddlers quickly became partners in crime. Whenever there was dead silence we were sure to find Lennon and Iggy getting into massive amounts of mischief. My poor flowers will never bloom again.

Having Iggy over has certainly opened my eyes to juggling two small, semi-helpless creatures. I don't know how mothers with several children or multiples do it. Keeping track of the two of them was a challenge. Josh found this out the hard way while trying to take Iggy, Lennon, Uncle Cody and Uncle Randy out for a walk. Then again he was over reaching with thinking he could wrangle 4 youngins' by himself.

But over all it was a pleasant experience (the 3 of us haven't gone on that many walks in one day in I don't know how long) and I think we are very ready to expand our brood come this summer. That gives us a few months to train Lennon on how to scoop up poop. I mean, if she's going to be so averse to potty training, keeping herself in diapers, the least she can do is clean up after an other's crap. They say you shouldn't push your kids too hard but....

Whiny Wednesday

How could someone this cute be so evil?

Well let's just start by stating the obvious: This is a less than flattering photo of me. I'm looking all sorts of lumpy, schlumpadinka Mommy. Makeover anyone??!! Sigh--Okay the hard part's over.

Above is a picture of one of those moments in your life when everything seems peachy keen. Mother and daughter are posing oh-so-adorably right before Easter Sunday service. Little does the on-looker know that underneath that mother's predetermined smile there is a strong will that urges her to eat her young (if only 2 times a week) and that underneath her daughter's perfect "CHEESE" is a demon waiting to be unleashed. Case in point: Today's Events.

Today started like any other day. I rose out of bed at the butt-crack-of-dawn--or what other's like to call 7am--slowly waking up by curling up on the couch and checking my e-mail. I gave Josh a kiss goodbye and wished him a good day at work like the perfect little woman. Lennon actually sleeps in (okay, I should have known from this odd turn of events that today would be unlike any other), rises with smiles and kisses ready to start her day. Sounds great so far, right? Well it was....until the demon residing in my 2 year old decided to burst out of her like something out of the Exorcist.

Since I am trying to block out today from my memory what happened next is a bit fuzzy. It may have had something to do with her new DVD "The Princess and the Frog" and her Barbies. All I can remember is that a new type of temper/tantrum/eruption of emotion exploded from my child, which resulted in me having to perform the Vulcan death grip around her entire body until she could stop scratching every inch of my exposed skin (not to mention some of hers) and calm down. What happened to my angel baby?

After this ridiculous episode it was time to load up and head on over to Grandma Sweet's in Corvallis so Mommy could attend at scholarship workshop. Sounds so responsible, doesn't it? WRONG!!! The first 20 minutes or so of the car ride were like any other: a constant cacophony of commotion in the backseat, that is generally entertaining. But somewhere outside of Monmouth, near mile post 68, the demon decided now was the perfect time to rear its ugly head. Any and all sharp objects begin being chucked directly at me! Books, Barbies, fairy wands, hair ties and hair clips, shoes and socks. AHHHH!!! WHILE I AM DRIVING! Then the demon begins to scream bloody murder, as if she is being scrubbed down from head to toe with a pumice stone. Why, you may ask? Just cause. So what do I do? I try to contain the situation as best I can while continuing to drive.

Mother's all over the world understand the move that I had then chosen to administer. It involves a steady speed, one hand on the wheel as your other arm is contorted in such a way as to reach into the back of your car to discipline and/or appease your child in any way possible. Well, unfortunately I did not administer this move under standard regulations. I forgot the steady speed part. I was so distracted (I know, HORRIBLE excuse) by the surprising demon antics of my once sweet and darling girl that I continued to stretch my foot to the accelerator and press down--hard. I was just trying to keep up a steady momentum when a hill slowly starts to rise and fall, catapulting my car up to 70-ish (ALLEGEDLY!). By the time I noticed my speed and had composed my toddler the po-lice are hot on my tail.

Now, I am not emotionally capable of being pulled over by an officer of the law. I'll be honest: I have authority issues. I very much dislike disappointing my superiors. This includes cops. Let's forget for a moment that my once demon-like child is now cooing from the backseat, blatantly flirting with Officer What's-His-Name (I don't know who taught her that). I am sitting in the front seat just trying to hold it all together. I am trying to act like a composed, responsible mother as I answer his questions and provide the necessary paper work. Meanwhile, Little Miss Sunshine is rattling off all sorts of questions and doing everything possible to get on the officer's good side. Of course, her efforts are wasted. I get cited and fined $190.

I want to make this clear: I did not cry....at least not in front of the officer. I waited till he drove off, then I immediately had an emotional breakdown like every other normal woman on the planet. I did not make excuses for myself. So why was I deliriously drenched in my own ocular fluid? Because I inadvertently endangered my child and was deathly afraid of Josh's reaction. God forbid I EVER put my child at risk again or disappoint Josh. Catholic Guilt anyone?

Long story short--if I can even say that--not a good day. Not the worst day, but not a good day. I love my daughter with every fiber of my being, but damn it that girl needs to work on her flirting. Next time she better seal the deal and get Mommy out of a ticket!

Toddler Tuesday

"What, Mom?" or "The Calm Before the Storm"

Thank heaven for little girls. For little girls get bigger every day....I sometimes cannot believe that I---ME!---have a 2 year old daughter. This never ceases to amaze me. There are days where I wonder if I could ever love something or someone else as much as I love her. Then, honestly, there are other days where I wonder if there will ever come a day when I will get to enjoy myself with wild abandon like I did in the days when I didn't wear the label of "Mommy". On those days--and they are few and far between---I look at this picture and see that my little girl, my baby, will grow up all too soon and that I should cherish these moments of young motherhood.

There will come a day when she will not want to raid my closet and abhors absolutely everything I wear. There will come a day when she will drive off into the sunset on a date with the boy she swears she'll marry (no matter how much her father protests that she will NEVER date). There will come a day when she beams with pride at the fact that she conquered her very own obstacles and follows her own dreams. Finally, there will come a day when she will truly understand what it means to walk in her mother's shoes, and OH how I will relish that day! The day her very own little Beastie rips through her closet, tornadoes across the house, all objects within reach being flung behind her with wild abandon, as she uses her Easter basket grass as confetti and screams at the top of her lungs: "NO MAMA! NO MAMA! BACK UP!"

Today's Meditation

Toddlers Gone Wild

or

Beavis and Butthead the Next Generation?

Today's Meditation

"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once we grow up." ~Pablo Picasso

Whiny Wednesday

Today's Whiny Wednesday is brought to you by the letters N and R. N for Noise and R for Racket. I suppose it's inevitable when you co-habitate with a toddler. The general cacophony of shrieks of delight and terror, song singing at the highest volume possible, the din of crashes, bumps and tumbles and---if you're daughter is the Beastie---the grunts, groans and screams of frustration when your crayons, markers, dolls, etc. don't stay in the order in which you put them.

I have to say that I can generally handle the noise and racket of my daughter, however today---well recently Lennon has found an object in our home that elicits a sound that makes me want to simultaneously punch a baby, drill my brain and rip my ears from my head. At first this noise was something I thought I could handle like all the other noises by focusing on my happy place and pretending that it isn't there. But oh no, this noise requires the meditative-like qualities only yogis possess. The noise in question: her Ikea easel being pushed, dragged, pulled, slid and jerked across our wood floor.

I have begun to think that this is Lennon's way of slowly torturing her mother. I have never hated Ikea more.

Today's Meditation

Does it take 9 pairs of panties to truly feel protected?

The Sound of Music!

Our house is alive with the sound of music---well music that only Lennon can hear. Lennon has just received part of her birthday/airplane ride gift: Child Headphones. Oh why Josh and I have not thought of these before is beyond me! Nothing is sweeter than the sound of, well, your child not pestering you. : )

We have hooked up the headphones to my iPod (let's hope she survives her play date with the Beastie) and set the play list to Lennon's fave dance tunes. Mainly this list consists of the Black Eyed Peas, in particular the song "Boom Boom Pow", with some Lady GaGa thrown in for good measure. Nothing makes me smile and laugh more than seeing Lennon bee-bop around the house, headphones on, dancing and singing along to her "tunes".

At this moment right now you can hear Lennon's cherubic voice throughout the house singing: "Get dat! Get dat! Boom-boom-boom! Boom! Boom! Get dat! Get dat!" Now if only our cameras were charged and at the ready! This being the one time in all my time as a mother I have failed to keep batteries well stocked. Shucks. Well, let's hope that Josh and I get used to Lennon's vocal stylings.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Today Lennon discovered her first rainbow. As we were driving from Corvallis to Salem after a very long day of school (for Mommy) and playtime (for Lennon) the clouds parted and there it stood in all of its colorful glory. I have to say it was one of the better Oregon rainbows I have ever seen (nothing beats a Hawaiian rainbow!).

As I explained to Lennon how a rainbow is made, a concept lost on my almost 2 year old---I guess she won't be a science genius---her round of incessant questioning began. I suppose I should wonder in the splendor, shock and sheer delight a child has and can find in any simple new thing, but dealing with this chitter chatter at rush hour is not a wholly pleasant experience. Here are some examples of the barrage of her inquisitive toddler questions:

* "MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! Rain-boo! Rain-boo! Eat?"

" No, Lennon. You cannot eat a rainbow. Rainbows are for looking at."

" Eyes! Eyes! Look! OWEE!!!" (Lennon proceeds to jab her fingers in her eyes)

* " MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! Rain-boo! Rain-boo! Colors?"

" Yes, Lennon. Rainbows are made with many colors. You are so smart! Can you name them?"

" Orange. Purple. Orange. Purple. NICK!" (Uncle Nick is constantly on her mind, you may hear about him quite frequently when having a conversation with Lennon)

* " MOMMY! MOMMY! MOMMY! Rain-boo! Rain-boo! Addy's rain-boo?"

" No, the rainbow doesn't belong to Addy (her cousin). Rainbows belong to everyone."

" NO! NO! NO WAY! RAIN-BOO MINE! RAIN-BOO MINE!"

" Okay, Lennon. The rainbow is yours."

" Thank you! You're welcome! I fah-ted! (She proceeds to giggle all the way home, while blowing the rainbow kisses).

Oh to be a kid again, when the world is your oyster and even a fart can be turned into something extremely cute.

Who's Missing?

Who's missing from this post?? Those camera shy Bend family members need to start jumping into pictures. It's hard for me to remember to take pictures at every family get together, so start getting in there! : ) Here are my two favorite pictures from our most recent trip to Bend.

The first one of Mimi and Lennon, because I can rarely get them in a picture together (usually because Mimi is also manning her camera to capture the moment for her picture collection). Here Mimi is explaining to Lennon the all important Luiz tradition of hanging Hallmark holiday ornaments on the tree and the proper way to "look gently" at them. I gave my mom full warning that anything within Lennon's reach on the tree may never see another Christmas, but she assured me that Lennon would surely listen to her Mimi. I have to say that Lennon was very gentle with all of Mimi's ornaments.....up until our last night visiting. R.I.P. Sugar Plum Fairy.

The last picture is just too cute to not post (at least I think so!). Uncle Aiden is always such a trooper when Lennon comes to visit. The poor guy thought he was getting it easy having a big sister 15 years older than him. Little did he know that nieces can torment you just as well, if not better, than siblings. Lennon loves to order and wrestle her Uncle into submission and on this trip she could not have her bath without her Aiden. Of course, ever the loving/doting Uncle, he humored her and jumped in----on one condition, he had to wear his swim trunks. So here they are showing off their muscles to one another.

Ringing in the New Year

Well it took my a bit longer than I would've liked (you can thank food poisoning for that), but here is our first update of the NEW YEAR!
The three of us headed on down to Bend to finish off the 2009 Holiday Season and celebrate Mimi's 50th Birthday. What a trip it was!

Lennon got to experience her very first snow. The long 3 hour car trip to Bend certainly built enough pent-up energy. As soon as we opened the truck door and unbuckled her car seat she was off and running into Gamma and Papa's frosted lawn. If Josh and I had known better we would have given her the all-important "Yellow and Brown Snow Lesson", because the first thing she did was promptly gather snow and shove it into her mouth. Here's hoping she caught some good mountain antibodies to get us through the rest of this cold/flu season. Unfortunately, that was her only experience with snow this trip. The next morning it had all but melted away and by our third day in Bend the snow was completely gone. Good thing we made the trek to Target for a snow bib and snow proof mittens...
After unpacking and unloading the truck at Gamma and Papa's house we hurried off to open presents at Mimi and Baba's house before the big birthday bash. Lennon made sure to pack appropriate party clothing--as you can see she chose to wear her orange tu-tu. Lennon could hardly believe Santa remembered to bring her gifts at Mimi and Baba's house (he sure over did it this year!). Every gift was ripped open with a "Yay!" or "Awesome!" and then celebrated with a dance. Thanks to all the little elves who made her 3rd Christmas
gift opening a memorable one! I don't know how we got the truck packed up so well.

Lennon then wiggled and giggled the night away at Mimi's Birthday Party. I think Mimi's guests really got a kick out of seeing our little munchkin order the big kids around while toting her new "baby" Reese. I have to give a huge thank you to Gabby Foote, a second grade party go-er, who took on the daunting task of babysitting our little Beastie, so Josh and I could try to have some adult social time. She did a fabulous job and is welcome at our house anytime!

The three of us partied our pants off till 10:30pm!!

Beastie the Homemaker

Here is Lennon modeling her brand new, hand made apron from G-ma Lawrence that she got for Christmas. G-ma Lawrence (Grandma Sweet/Barb's mom) loves to sew and make gifts for the grandchildren for Christmas. She has made the grandchildren all sorts of gifts, from quillows to hats to purses. I love the idea of homemade gifts (if only I could sew!), there are the ones that come from the heart and these are things we will keep for generations (or as long as they stand the test and wear of a toddler).

Lennon loves to cook in her kitchen and thank goodness she has an apron her size because she is a messy cook (just like her Daddy).

Thank you G-ma Lawrence for the perfect gift!

Trimming the Tree

Our first Christmas in the new house! Wow, it's hard to believe. We weren't quite prepared to decorate a whole house this year, so our Christmas trimmings were a bit on the light side. (Thanks to the Volkerts for loaning us their regal Nativity set!) Hopefully our Christmas spirit made up for our lack of Christmas decorations.

We used our small artificial tree this year. Neither Josh nor I was willing to brave the Christmas tree hunt out in the wild this December. Hopefully by next December that will change, because I sure did miss the smell of a real tree in the house. Although I think our artificial one was much sturdier than we thought, considering Lennon was all a flutter when she saw it and couldn't keep her hands off of it. Thankfully there were no Christmas tree casualties.

This was Lennon's first year participating in decorating the Christmas tree. As you can see she was very meticulous in where she chose to hang her ornaments. Thank goodness I am no Martha Stewart, expecting absolute perfection and symmetry. Lennon took a quick liking to the

Christmas balls that we had bought at Target. I suppose they were the exact size for her petite hands, which couldn't resist them. Lennon's clustering technique was a bit unconventional, but I think it could catch on. Her Christmas Cluster is rather cute.

With Lennon growing like a weed no ornament within her reach was safe. Thank goodness I learned right away Mommy Christmas Tip #1: All cherished ornaments need to be exempt from the tree or else placed high, towards the top. Her little mittens loved touching and exploring each ornament. Many of them were shuffled and found in new places. A little surprise for Mommy every day.

Lennon is much like a squirrel, she loves to hoard, pile and hide objects. Many a hook, ribbon and string were lost this year, making many of the ornaments unusable. Towards the end of the month the tree became very top heavy and bare bottomed.

Kudos to Josh for using three strands of lights on our tree. Don't worry Mom--he strings the lights just like you do! We are carrying on that Christmas tradition. We also used Grandma Sweet's (Barb) homemade tree skirt, which is beautiful and fit perfectly, aside from Lennon slipping and sliding on it as she tried to fit herself under the tree. Next year we may have to put some sort of gripping underneath the skirt so our little miss doesn't "schwip fawl".

Josh and I can hardly wait until next Christmas! We hope to rival the Griswold's in spectacular light displays and I will attempt some Martha Stewart like touches inside the house. Most of all, we can't wait to see how Lennon's face lights up with excitement as the decorations come out and how she beams with pride as she helps carry-out new family traditions.

Merry Tismas!

As Lennon would say: "Merry Tismas!" So these next few posts are from the whole of December and Christmas...so far. Better late than never, eh? Hopefully after our 2nd Christmas in Bend I will be able to post more frequently and on time! My sincere apologies for those of you who have had to wait for your current Lennon fix.

If you are looking for pictures of Lennon's first visit to see Santa, you'll be waiting a very long time. I didn't listen to Josh's warnings and I took Lennon to see Santa at the Salem Center. There is evidence of her having met him, however she was using her Vulcan-like death grip around my neck so I was unable to take any photos, but I believe Auntie Michelle or Grandma Sweet may have one. You'd think a gal of her bravado would not object to meeting the big man in red. Oh how wrong to assume...

All day leading up to the big meeting she was very excited, shrieking "Ho, Ho" and "Happy Nu-Nu!" When we met up with Grandma Sweet, Auntie Renee, Uncle Cody, Auntie Michelle and Addy she was still all excitement and energy. As we neared "Santa's Village" still wiggles and giggles. Finally, it was our turn to greet the magic man. What does Lennon do? Climb my body like a spider monkey and Kung-fu grip my neck, refusing to let go or go near him.

I tried not to let my impulse to make a memory and take a properly posed Santa picture cloud my motherly judgement, where I force my child to sit on a strange man's lap while she screams bloody murder. My better instincts prevailed and I followed Lennon's lead. While she clung to my body we approached Santa, waved hello, gave him a suspicious once over and left. Better luck next year.

Kickin' It Old School

Well I was finally able to do it. I wrangled Lennon into one of my old outfits that my mom thought I looked oh-so-cute in, in the '80's. Since the '80's garb is coming back in style here is Lennon kickin' it old school. Now I tried to make a side pony, but it was hard enough to get a hair tie in her hair. So you'll have to settle for a pseudo-top knot/Cindy-Lou 'do.