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A portrait of my husband, once a week, every week, in 2013.
We spent the 4th of July in Oxnard, at the beach. While Willy and I were walking on the pier, we noticed some little surfer boys sticking a dollar bill up through the wooden planks to trick unassuming beach-goers into thinking they just found a buck. A buck buys a lot these days, ya know? We sat and watched as person after person stopped to pick up the buck only to have it disappear just before they could get their hands on it. Needless to say, Willy found it funny. In fact, I know a lot of stories about my husband but never had I heard the story he went on to tell about what he calls “poo dollar”. I’ll spare you the details and allow you to use your imagination. Oh Willy, nothing you do – or have done – surprises me.
I love Sash’s portraits of Bo from last week, in particularly the second one. She’s such a stunning little girl, isn’t she? Like mother, like daughter.
You can check out other posts in the series here.
Summer
“Make mudpies. Jump in puddles. Climb trees. Lie in the grass. Dream big. Build a fort. Run barefoot. Slay dragons. Play in the rain. Reach for the stars. Imagine. Tread gently. Sleep soundly.”
-Unknown
Hope everyone had a happy and safe 4th of July. We spent the day at the beach and plan to do so again today because it’s my birthday and I want to spend it with the sun on my back, sand in my toes, and my family by my side. Happy Friday!
Side note: Congrats to Heather Manu for winning the gift card to Sweet Threads! I’m emailing you right now! And thanks to all who entered. Remember you can still use promocode STORK20 for 20% off your purchase through 7/20/13!! And the grand opening of their shop in Long Beach is tomorrow. Click here to find out more details!
July Fourth
All of the images above were taken from some of my favorite photographers, bloggers, and/or instagrammers. Please click on each photo to be taken to it’s beautiful place of origin.
When I was little, my dad used to tell me the fireworks were for me (my birthday is tomorrow).
Happy Birthday, America. Happy Birthday.
And a little jam to get the celebration started…
Brothers
Motherhood has such a way of slapping you in the face, doesn’t it? I mean I’ve found myself wishing for something one minute, only to get it the next and curse it through and through regardless. Like the day Van was born and I “couldn’t wait” for him to get to know his brother. Now he knows his brother and you know what? His brother’s one big bully. Now I find myself eager for the day Van can stand and balance, and well, fend for himself. Though I know I’ll be cursing those days where they’re here too.
Anyone have any helpful hints on building a friendly sibling relationship? I can practically hear my mom laughing through the computer screen.
Side note: You have two more days to enter the giveaway for a $50 gift card to Sweet Threads. You can enter here. And don’t forget about their grand opening in Long Beach (see post for details). I’ll announce the winner on Friday. I consider Shella, the face behind Sweet Threads, so thank you for supporting those close to me.
Side side note: I have the privilege of being Modern
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Kiddos
newest contributor. You can read an interview they did with me here and check out my new feature, Widdle Wednesdays, here.
Disneyland.
Before Willy and I had kids, we agreed that we hated Disneyland. Yup, we’re those people. We even went so far as to say that when we did take the plunge with our own kids, we’d pay Mickey Mouse to say mean and hurtful things to them so they never wanted to go back. We were kidding, of course, but that’s our humor, so whatever.
Fast forward, or rewind (depending on how you look at it) to last week when my sister asked if we wanted to go. Her finace had never been despite the fact they live practically walking distance. We also have a relative of a close friend that works there, so we get in for a mere fraction of the price. So, we decided we’d take the plunge.
We spent the night at my sister’s the night before because driving down the 405 freeway in the morning is as dumb as going to sit on Santa’s lap the week before Christmas. Only the 405 isn’t seasonal, it’s a zoo every damn day.
We brought Sarah with us too. We bring her lots of places and I wouldn’t normally mention her presence except for the fact that it becomes pertinent to this little story. Wait for it.
My sister has two new kittens. I hate cats. You should know that about me. I’m allergic, so really it’s my allergies that hate cats.
Sarah is going to be four this year. You should know that she spent the first two years on and off antibiotics and in and out of the vet… aspiration pneumonia after being spayed, rattle snake bite, anaphylatic shock after a bee sting, possible tick bite after camping, ear infection after a trip to Arizona that became a hematoma, hives, another rattle snake bite, another bee sting with subsequent anaphylatic shock… you get the idea.
I was feeding Van when I heard a scuffle, a bark, and a hiss. Next thing we know, Sarah came in with blood coming out of her eye. Nothing is ever no-big-deal with Sarah, so of course Willy and I start to worry immediately. The bleeding stops and it’s obvious she has a cut to her third eyelid. If you knew how big the third eyelid was, you’d know that if Sarah didn’t have bad luck, she’d have absolutely no luck at all.
We spent the night tossing and turning, checking on Sarah, listening to Sarah howl in the bathroom, then letting her out only to hear her chasing the cats in the living room (she’s not the brightest), and then moving her to the garage just a few hours before those little munchkins of ours were up and ready to go.
We called Willy’s dad, who’s a bovine vet in AZ, and decided we should take Sarah in to the vet. So much for spending the night to get an early start at Disneyland.
Willy took Sarah in and two hundred dollars and three new medications later (turns out an abrasion she had on her neck was also infected), we finally made it out the door. By the time we paid $16 dollars for parking, got the kids in the stroller, waited for the elevator, waited in line for the tram, broke down the stroller to get on the tram, got through the bag check, and met up with our ticket dealer dude, honestly I felt okay with turning around to go home and calling it a successful day. We had got there, after all.
I’d say we didn’t stay long, but I think the more accurate statement is that we were there for a while but didn’t do much in that time. Waiting to get on to one ride was a feat on it’s own. We went on a total of three rides: autotopia (I thought Hooper would dig driving his own car but in actuality, letting him sit behind the wheel just meant that we had to grin and bear with smacking into the center track over and over again because his steering ability is, well, not developed), Pirates of the Caribbean (Hooper was scared and sat through the whole ride with Willy’s hat covering his face while I breastfed a tired and hungry Van), and Small World (which was actually incredibly refreshing and a nice break from the heat). Then we paid an arm and a leg for a mediocre lunch and left. And that took a total of 4+ hours.
Note to self: Don’t go to Disneyland in the summer. Just don’t. Take my word for it. Save your money.
I suppose it could be a different story when the boys’ are older… when a 45 minute wait in line doesn’t feel like a marathon.
On the brighter side, I love churros.
Have you been? What was your experience like?
And just for good measure, a photo from my first trip to Disneyland (looks like my parents may have utilized the say-mean-and-hurtful-things-to-my-kid technique, cuz’ I’m clearly not feelin’ Donald)… Side note: #CoolHairCuts
Van @ 11 months
Growth & Appearance: You hair is getting lighter and I’m wondering now if you too will be blond. The hair in the back of your head is significantly lighter than the hair at the top of your head, though it all seems to be in transition.
You’re wearing size four diapers and I’ve been meaning to go into the garage and get the next size up in clothing because I think it’s a little overdue. You’ll be wearing 18 month clothing as soon as I can get my shiznet together.
Your right leg is almost always black from dragging it around when you crawl.
You have four teeth on top and four on the bottom. We just started brushing them, which is more than we could have said for your brother… we waited until the doc pointed out that they were yellow before we started brushing his (hash tag: first time parents). You’ve started grinding your teeth, something I learned to be associated with teething. For you, teething also includes weird diarrhea, extreme fussiness, clinginess, and decreased appetite.
Your hair is all over the place in that it’s several different lengths. We have yet to cut or trim it and due to the the patches of hair you lost as a newborn, the hair in back is longer than the hair in front and it’s all just kind of wonky looking. 
Eating:You like drinking water from a sippy cup. You can drink out of a straw. You can hold your own bottle. You also like the idea of using utensils, but your coordination is, um, not quite there yet. You did, howver, grab a piece of food, place it on the spoon, and bring the spoon to your mouth… but I’d be lying if I said the bite actually made it to your mouth. In any event, you want to be just like us… in every aspect of daily life. You’re in such a rush to grow up.
You have more of a preference; you know what foods you like by simply looking at them. If you prefer something that’s on my plate over what’s on yours, you communicate that very clearly via whining. In general, however, you still like just about anything we put in front of you; it’s just that you love somethings and simply like other things.
Foods you love: bread, peas, avocado sandwiches, chicken, pasta, strawberries, cheerios… Who am I kidding… You love everything.
You’re still breastfeeding 8 times a day, but it’s getting harder to squeeze all those feedings in between naps and meals. I’m worried that if I start the weaning process that my milk will suddenly disappear completely and I’d really like to make it to a year, and perhaps then some. So I try to squeeze in all 8 feedings.
You went through a period of time where you were totally distracted while feeding. It has since gone away, but I spent that period only feeding you in your room with the light off and the door closed. It’s difficult to breastfeed you when we’re out and about or in the car because you’re much more interested in what’s going on around you. It’s hard, some days, to spend much time away from the house because I know there will be missed feedings. Part of me can’t wait to be done with breastfeeding so I can let it all go, but another part of me knows I’ll miss it and wonders if this could be the last time…
You also went through a period of biting me. Hard. I yelled at you quite a few times and it has since stopped. That made me want to throw in the towel. When you’re older, I’ll be sure to return the favor. For the record, nothing has made me want to throw you across the room more than when you bit my nipple. You’re lucky I worry about holes in the wall.
Not quite as bad as biting, but still annoying is your obsession with tweaking the nipple you don’t
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have in your mouth. Even if I have a shirt on, you seem to wiggle your little hand in there. Before you even latch on, you’re hand is searching for that free nipple to tweak. Sadly, I’ve gotten used to it. When you’re in a more aggressive mood, I have to find something to cover myself with that you can’t get through because it hurts too bad. 
Sleeping:When you wake up in the morning, with your tired eyes, I think you look most like me. There have been numerous days this past month that I have actually woken you up. Sounds crazy, I know, but our breastfeeding schedule gets all out of whack if we get started too late and we all know what a lunatic I am about breastfeeding. I’m eager to be done to celebrate the days I wake up long before you do. With that said, most days you wake up between 7:30 and 8:30. I don’t let you sleep much later than 8:30, though some days you would.
You become a little nuzzler when you’re tired, burring your head in our laps or snuggling up with a warm load of laundry straight out of the dryer. You’re fairly adaptable when it comes to sleeping in different places and/or falling asleep anywhere.
Breastfeeding puts you to sleep most nights, but not every night. Either way, you don’t have any trouble putting yourself to sleep.
You’ve learned how to turn your white noise maker off. We keep it in your crib and most mornings it’s either turned off or unplugged. If it’s the latter, this means you’ve reached your little arm out and around your crib and pulled the plug out of the outlet. What a little skeezer you are.
Talking: I’m not quite sure starting this “talking” category is justified quite yet… but… you’ve made your first attempt at saying your first word, “hello”. When we give you the phone, you hold it to your ear, look at us and say, “high-yah”… But in all honesty it sounds more like a high squeal that ressembles “hello”. What I’m trying to say is it’s not quite a word, more like a sound, but it’s clear what you are trying to say. So, “hello” is your first attempt at a word. And we’ll leave it at that.
Also, you wave when people say “hello” and when people say “goodbye”. And we’re both fairly certain you’re trying to say “car”.
Development: People describe you as “mellow”. I agree to some extent. You definitely make it known when you’re not happy or when something gets taken away from you, but the majority of the time you’re cool, calm, and collected.
You still bear crawl, up on all fours, when crawling on grass or dirt. The other day you bear crawled all the way under the car.
You can stand unassisted. The other day you pulled up on me and let go, distracted by something your brother was doing, for about 10 seconds. Then you realized you were standing and plopped back down to your butt.
You can walk with a push toy all the way down the hallway. You g’pa swears he watched you take your first two steps, but you have yet to repeat.
You are rough n’ tumble, reckless, all systems go; the kid that will make me look 45 by the time I’m 35. You’re shaping up to be a climber, an explorer, a limit-pusher, a boundary ignorer.
You’re incredibly physical. When I lay you down to change your diaper, you kick. When I breastfeed, you bite. When I lift you up off the ground, you kick your legs. Each time you are around a baby smaller than yourself, you pounce. And by pounce I mean all that baby sees are your hands on their face.
You climb on and over everything. You do this thing we call the “sumo stance” where you climb onto something (yesterday it was a suitcase) and stay in the squat position like a frog. The other day I found you on top of a chair.
You’re starting to take to your Papa more and more. That time when you leaned toward me no matter how far away I was, is fading. It’s bittersweet.
You have a lot of pride and you wear it well.
You follow simple commands. You give us big wide open mouth slobbery kisses when we ask.
You love to laugh and are very ticklish.
You like to be chased, crawling away from me as fast as you can but stopping every so often to take a peak over your shoulder to be sure I’m still chasing you. This 11 month mark is the start of real personality and I’m loving every moment of it.
Favorites: You still love the remote controls. You also love phones, both real ones and toy ones. You play alongside the sofa with your brother, each of you moving cars from one place to another. In general, you love learning from Hooper and are quick to mimic anything and everything he does. You still love putting everything in your mouth. It’s hard to play outside with you because nothing is off limits… dog poop, rocks, dirt… you’ll try it all. You like to grab the mouse down from my computer and then find me to show off what you “found”.