Sweaters Make Everything Better

The other day Patrick's aunt gave us five huge bags full of little boy clothes to sort through. "Take what you want and do whatever you want with the rest," she said. The bags had been given to her and she'd already selected what she wanted for her baby boy. Now it was our turn. Sounds simple and straight forward, right?

It sounds that way. But we never just sort through clothes at our house.

Going through these bags was a blast from the past--the little outfits were harboring some pretty strong nineties vibes. But there were some nice basics in good condition, and a few little gems. See the bright green overalls Cambrie slipped on over her pants? At first they were a no-go, but after she was romping around in them for a while, they grew on me. Maybe we'll save them for a 3T James, but for now? They're just a little too crazy-neon-green-fun to pass up.

Cambrie's favorite part was building people. She was mostly concerned that they had shoes and that they were holding hands.

Here is what James thought of his sister's clothing combinations:

"Ha! A Christmas sweater! Those baggy plaid shorts never saw it coming!"

While combing through the piles, ghosts of Pinterest Pins Past were speaking to me. Here's what they were saying:

Source

Sweater Stockings! It was meant to be. I'd already picked up an old sweater (once a nominee for an "Ugly Sweater" Christmas party) at Goodwill with crafty intentions. Soon I was plucking out all the sweaters I could find, hoping for an improvement on last year's batch.

The small green one would have made an adorable stocking, simple, and more my style. But Patrick has taken it out of the running. He's grown attached to it, since he has a similarly-colored one, and he's also insisting it's not ugly enough to "destroy." (He obviously can't see the visions of stockings dancing through my head.)

The blue one wouldn't really match my preferred Christmas decor, but it's obnoxious brightness and cheeky little snowman won me over.

Here's another one that I thought would make a cute Christmas pillow, shaped as a star, maybe?

(Of course, these are all projects that involve sewing--the very thing I'm constantly rediscovering I don't like. Ummmmm, I may be forced to rediscover this again... I really can't help it... that Pin was so cute...)

So out of the five bags of clothes I found maybe a grocery bag full of clothes for the boy and some sweaters to get all crafty with. It was a fun, Cambrie-friendly project, and I need more things like that.

Because when something is Cambrie-friendly, it's always more fun. Case in point: Cambrie thought my sweater layout was okay, but it needed improvement.

"Mommy! I'm the red one, and you are the big one, and James is that one, and you are PROTECTING us! Put James on his sweater! Yeah! There! TAKE A PICTURE MOMMY!"

You've got to admit--she's right. It's way better that way.

Back Again

Oh, well, hi out there! I guess I wound up taking another one of my blogging sabbaticals. Man, I was doing so well at semi-regular posts, and then POW!... Everything-except-blogging happened.

Well I hope you all don't mind. After all, since I wasn't blogging, I had more time for mommy meltdowns, toddler tantrums, infant illnesses, AND (lest you think I'm all Debbie Downer today)...

(As good of a family picture as we're getting nowadays...)

...re-realizing that I have the most amazing husband and the two most incredible children I could ask for.

Just look at them:

And look at how this guy, who will soon be six months old, has grown:

Brand new.

I don't really have words. Just know it makes my heart all happy.

Hope to get back into the blogging game for this holiday season!

One-On-One

James hasn't been feeling too well recently. Since being under-the-weather has made him a sleepy little boy, Cambrie and I have been taking advantage of the one-on-one time we've had. What do we usually do when we need a project that a three-year-old can participate in and a Mommy also enjoys? Head to the kitchen!

Since Thanksgiving is next week, I figured I'd get a head start on some holiday baking. With the occasional help and chipper company of my daughter, I made two pie crusts, placed them in their dishes, and set them in the freezer for later use.

Cambrie got the extra dough for her own little pie crust. It was so cute to see her rolling it out, pressing it into the pie dish, using it as playdough, etc.

"Time to put it in the oven!" I told her. "Here, sprinkle some cinnamon and sugar on it!"

Ah, those picture perfect moments! There it was--her little hands tilting the shaker over her own adorable culinary creation. The blogger in me took over.

"Hey, babe, I'll be right back." Sprintsprintsprint down the stairs, grab the camera, sprintsprintsprint back upstairs....

She found that bib in some of her baby things and insisted on wearing it.

Oh. Right. I guess it all comes out quicker than I remember.

No matter! I shook off the excess cinnamon and suger and tossed it in the oven (but not before she swiped a taste of the cinnamon and sugar and declared that she did not like it. Whatever, kid, I'm a-bakin' it anyway!).

While it was baking I ran down to check on the baby. Sleeping soundly. But then I heard a whisper from the top of the stairs.

I tiptoed over. Cambrie was peering down at me with both oven mitts on her hands.

"Is he still sleeping?" she whisper-called. I nodded. "Then come on! I have the game ready! I already made it up!"

Oh, well okay. I hurried up the stairs where she led me into the living room. "Here," she instructed, handing me an oven mitt. "This one is yours. You sit here, and we roll the ball on the mat with our mitts, and we catch it!!" She was so excited. I followed her directions as best I could. Curious, I asked, "So what is this game called?"

She thought, briefly. "Ummm, 'This Game.'"

"Oh. 'This Game,' huh?"

"Uh-huh, um, it's called 'Mittens-clothes-ball.'" Okay. That made more sense.

And so we played.

By the time the game was over and the crust was done baking, she had no interest in tasting it. I tried some--a little heavy on the cinnamon, but otherwise it was perfect. Perfect crust. Perfect morning.

The fun thing about having two kids, though, is now I have two, very different, very wonderful little people to spend one-on-one time with. Just like (when the fates are smiling kindly) I get legit, stress-free time with Cambrie, sometimes the girl is napping and I have stress-free time with a baby boy who just wants to be held.

So what do my one-on-one moments with James look like? Usually they end up on the porch swing, since he'll get bored if we hang out in the house. There we spend time enjoying each other's company and catching up with family and friends on the phone. Even chilly weather hasn't discouraged us.

I hope his cuteness is obvious even through our poor little camera's lens. 

I sure am grateful, during this month of gratitude, for little games of Mittens-clothes-ball and toothless grins from a bundled up baby.

When I Get Bigger

Cambrie is a funny girl. By funny, I mean "peculiar in ways that are mostly awesome and make us laugh." Another possible definition is "a euphemism for a typical three-year-old who is, at times, the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, and please, age four, come quickly."

Now, I could write a whole post on what we're learning about parenting with our independent, smart, awesome, emotional little girl (and how we can't wait for the fabled "Fabulous Fours"), but today something different struck me. Our little girl can't wait to be older, either.

When we find ourselves battling with Cambrie's little three-year-old sense of independence, one of the phrases that will often calm her down is to explain that she can do X, Y, or Z when she's bigger. I don't know why this works--it sounds kind of like a cop-out answer to me--but she really clings to the promise of freedom that "being bigger" brings.

Yesterday she was helping me make pancakes and had requested a snake pancake. I poured the batter and let it cook, but when I went to flip it, it tore a little. Not good on an already tantrum-riddled morning.

"No, mommy! Don't rip it!"

"Well I didn't mean to. I'm sorry it ripped, but it will be fine; it's still yummy."

Cue the rising temper tantrum.

"No! Mommy!! I don't want it ripped!! Whinewhinecrycrynailsonblackboardaaauugghh!!"

"Whoa! Hold up there, kiddo! This is no reason to flip out!" (I know, I'm not very understanding, am I.) "When you are bigger you can make and pour and flip your own pancakes that will never tear, I'm sure, but until then you'll have to deal with my flipping. You'll be fine."

Now, this was no calculated use of the phrase "When you are bigger." In fact, it was mostly just me being completely unsympathetic. But the raging storm faded, and she thought for a bit.

A few moments passed as I continued flipping and pouring. Soon, happily and conversationally, she said, "When I'm bigger, I will make pancakes and make pancake tape. And when I grow small again, you can make pancakes, and you can use my pancake tape!"

Sounded like a good solution to me. My little Miss Hyde was a resourceful Dr. Jekyll again, and the rest of pancake-making proceeded rather painlessly.

It's amazing to me that she's old enough to look forward to the future now. It hit me even more this morning as I was watching the reports on Hurricane Sandy's destruction; Cambrie sees and remembers so much, and what she sees will affect how she views the future. She heard one brief segment on the news that she rephrased by saying, "The Good Guys will help them." I was grateful for that bit of positive reporting.

I tried to explain to Cambrie in simple words what had happened. But watching my little pancake-tape-inventor eyeing the torn buildings and sunken cars, I swallowed the words in my mouth. Of all the things I wanted her to learn, fear wasn't one of them.

I turned off the TV.

"Because of the big storm, babe, a lot of people need help. They need food, water and warm blankets. And Cambrie? We can be the Good Guys."

After explaining that, no, we can't drive in the car to help these people out--we were too far away--I took her to the computer. Together we did something that I often mean to do, but more often forget to or am distracted from.

We visited the Red Cross website, and she helped me to make a small donation.

Cambrie, right now you are little. There are things that you are not able to do. But, both now and as you get bigger, you are capable of so much more than you think. You can be strong; you can be the Good Guy; you can make a real difference.

Thank you for reminding me that I can, too.

The Cloth Diaper Post

So a while back, when I was admitting to my crunchy tendencies, I mentioned briefly that we'd be trying out cloth diapering with our son. (For those wanting an awesome explanation of what cloth diapering is like nowadays, check out this post by Simple Mom.)

Well, we've done it! For those that are curious, here are the details:

We have purchased twelve bumGenius 4.0 one-size pocket diapers with snaps. Whew! That's a mouthful. For the non-cloth diaper-ers out there, let me elaborate.

We got this brand:

Image Source, and no, I did not get any pink ones for my little boy.

Only having twelve means we technically only cloth diaper part-time. While the diapers are being washed and drying, it's disposable all the way.

One-size indicates they'll fit all the way through potty-training; there will be no need to purchase more to fit a growing baby. Heck, they even fit Cambrie.

Pocket diapers means they are made of a waterproof shell that works much like a disposable (no funny folding or pins to deal with) and an absorbent insert that you slip into that shell.

"With snaps" means I chose the diapers with snap closures rather than a type of velcro. We want these diapers to last for a while, and we've heard snaps hold up better.

Look! It even matches his onesie!

We bought them at two different places: I used a coupon and discount something or other at Diaper Junction and got a decent deal (it's really hard to find good deals on the bumGenius brand). I also bought six of them gently used at Re-Diaper.com. They were still in great condition and at a pretty good price.

They cost us around $15 a diaper. That includes the absorbent inserts (two per diaper--one for newborns and one for older babies). That sounds like craziness, and it is more expensive than some of the other cloth diaper types (the kind you fold, secure in place with pins or a snappi, and use with an additional waterproof cover), but compared to 2.5 years of disposables, it's a bargain.

We store the dirty diapers in these Planet Wise Wet Bags. We thought about using washable liners for a diaper pail, but I really like how the wet bags take up less space. There is also literally no smell when the bag is all zipped up. They are washable, so when I throw a load in the wash, I just toss the bag in, too.

Hanging out, wondering why mommy is taking pictures of his diaper.

The wash routine is, I think, the part that scares most people off. Here's what I do: once all twelve diapers are dirty, I toss them directly in the wash and do a cold water rinse. No pre-rinsing or scrubbing of poop since the stools of breast-fed babies are water soluble. (Once James starts on solids, this part of the routine will change).

After the rinse, I wash with soap in hot water (I'm using Publix Free and Clear--half the amount needed for normal laundry so the diapers get clean but there's no detergent build-up that would compromise their absorbency), then do an additional rinse.

After all that, the inserts get tossed in the dryer and the pockets and wet bags get hung up to dry.

For those concerned about water use, here's a snippet I like from the Re-Diaper website:

"Don't let the "Water Debate" fool you. You don't hear plastic bottle companies advocating to use plastic bottles because of all the water you use to wash cups! Millions of gallons of water are used to produce disposable diapers. Disposable diapers are ONLY about convenience." 
Too true! Of course, I am often a fan of convenience, too. Can't please everyone, and my sanity and the earth are going to have to take turns.

Here's my opinion so far: I like cloth diapers. I'm not freaking-out-in-love with them or anything, but it feels good to have something soft and cushy and not quite as wasteful on my baby's bottom. I do love not spending as much on diapers, and I love love love how cute they are on little bums.

James's little tush doesn't get red as often, and there are noticeably fewer leaks. No blow-outs; I'm always a little wary of blow-outs when he's in the disposables, but I never need to worry when he's in cloth.

When we do buy more diapers (which we are planning on doing so we need even fewer disposables), I think I'm going to try a different variety from the pocket diaper kind. I really don't mind them, but I guess I envisioned the "stuffing" process to be a little more streamlined. When I'm rushed, it takes just enough time to annoy me. I've tried sitting down and stuffing them all at once after they're clean and dry--trying to do that just stresses me out. Right now I just stuff three or four at a time when the kiddo is happily playing after a diaper change. It works for us.

Next purchase I'm considering getting some fitted diapers with snappis and some covers.

Oh, and how is the husband faring? He's just as happy as I am with the diapers! To be fair, if I didn't do the laundry and stuff them, he'd just grab the nearest disposable, but if they're there and ready, there are no complaints! I don't complain either, since I have a husband awesome enough to both change a bunch of diapers and go on this cloth diapering adventure with me.

And the baby? Oh, I think he likes them just fine.

See? That's his "clean cloth diaper" face. No, really.

I'll keep you guys updated and let you know how I like them as things move along.

Three Fun Things

The last time I did a "Three Things" post, it was wonderful. Easy to think up, easy to narrate, easy to write. So I find myself here again (apparently looking for the easy way out... *guilty look, but only a little guilty, really*). Here are three fun things from within the past week or so.

A Fun Birthday
Yes, you read that right. I turned twenty-five and survived. Not only did I survive, but on my birthday both kids napped at the same time for about twenty minutes (!!) and allowed me to do the same. Then we went out as a family to a restaurant that I'm still not sick of, though I spent most of my senior year of high school ringing up its customers and cleaning out its bagel slicer. Panera Bread, I will always think fondly of you.

Patrick was the mastermind behind my birthday celebration, including the after-dinner surprise. Unfortunately, the kiddos took ages to fall asleep and apparently it was too late to go out and do what he had planned. That surprise is still waiting!

This is as good of a picture with the two kids as I can manage to get nowadays.

A Fun Trip to the Zoo
My brother was working in Florida this weekend and decided to swing on up and say hi. We used the one day we had with him to check out Zoo Atlanta, where we made friends with pandas, searched endlessly for giraffes, and tried to see how easy it was to escape Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Andy in the large crowds. (Oh, wait, that last one was just Cambrie.) We're so glad you came, Andy!

Siblings... (and a cute kid/nephew)

Watching the baby gorillas.

Monkey.

Cambrie's preferred perch of the day.

Cambrie, Andy, and Willie B. (the gorilla)

Coolest lazy/fat meerkat ever.

Our little lion cub.

A Fun Idea For Halloween
Cambrie has decided what she wants to be for Halloween, despite all my gentle urging to the contrary. She wants to be a "girl pirate," and a girl pirate she will be, though I was getting excited about fashioning a Super Cambrie costume for her (another favorite pretend character of hers).

James's costume is still up in the air, though the doctor thinks he'd be a marvelous basketball player. At his four month check-up last week, James was in the 94th percentile for height and 38th for weight. That's "Tall and Skinny," for those who don't speak baby percentiles. I personally think he'd be a marvelous lion, considering both the picture above and the way he attacks things (like our fingers and hands) as though they are wildebeest.

Check out my hilarious kids. They could be anything for Halloween and still be awesome. The little folded-out ear makes this picture priceless.

Okay, that's all for now. Back to your regularly scheduled fall festivities.

Showing My Age

So this post will probably generate more than a few eye rolls, a few humoring smiles, and a complete lack of sympathy here and there. But I can't help it. I'm having a mini-early-adult-life-crisis here.

I'm turning twenty-five. *agonizing groan*

Perhaps this bears a little explanation. I have always been "the young one." In high school, I was a year behind everyone else in age. I graduated when I was seventeen. I finished college in three years. I got married and had Cambrie at what (compared to my high school friends) were insanely young ages.

Should have done some aged, worn affect on this photo since college-sophomore Stephanie is slowly withering away into responsibility and adulthood. *pathetic mourn*

People were usually surprised to find out how young I was because apparently I didn't act it. It was like my own little secret, that exciting little tidbit that was always fun to watch people discover.

It was almost as fun telling people my age as it was telling them that my younger sister and I were born on the exact same day, just two years apart. (See? I bet you thought that was cool, too!) Those little facts were just surprising enough to generate genuine interest, and just inconsequential enough to be promptly forgotten as we moved on to other topics. It was perfect!

Said sister and I. We obviously share a degree of awesomeness, in addition to a birthday.

When I was a teenager, twenty-four seemed like the perfect age. I was so anxious and excited to keep getting older (being the youngest did have its downsides), but I felt like if I could get to twenty-four I'd be happy just to stay there forever. Well, twenty-four has come and gone without me even stopping to enjoy it, and now that great, unlooked-for, unwelcome age has come. Next week, twenty-four-year-old Stephanie will be biting the dust. * dread *

This is a problem, see, because I know how to be young. I was a young graduate, a young college student, a young wife, a young mom. Whenever I've thought about who I am, I've automatically pictured a Stephanie who is twenty-four or younger.

If I think about who I'll be when I'm older, it's to picture Patrick and me in our fifties or so becoming empty-nesters and still young enough to do all sorts of fun things together. (Notice a theme, here?) I have never sat down to picture a Stephanie in those middle years, a Stephanie who is 28, or 33, or 41. Who is this woman??

....Pause. Deep breath. Recoup....

Okay. So now that I've acknowledged a serious breach in my psychological well-being, time to tell it to buck up and get over it. Here are the facts.

Next week, I will turn twenty-five. (Another deep breath.) Despite all my petty, irrational, and (let's face it) stupid feelings to the contrary, it will be okay. I'm just going to need to take some time to develop a sense of who no-longer-young-adult Stephanie is. I'll come to terms with this. And hopefully I'll find myself fitting in this new age bracket just as beautifully and perfectly and comfortably as so many of my friends and family already have.

Ay.

Baggy t-shirt? Check. Mommy ponytail? Check. Gorgeous month-old baby? Check.

Enjoying the last vestiges of twenty-four-year-old-hood, but (to be honest) thinking more about the increasingly awesome 3.5 month old in my arms. Guess that's how it should be. :-)

*Sigh* Thanks for letting me rant a little. In fact, having embarrassed myself by admitting this whole post to the cyber world, I've 100% motivated myself to make this next year one of my best.

So. Teeth gritted, goals lined up, birthday candles lit, ...twenty-five? Here I come.

Mr. James, Kiddo Extraordinaire

I recently wrote another little gush-y post about my daughter and her awesome learning-and-growing skills. I knew it would be fun watching my kids grow and develop. What I wasn't sure about is how exciting it would be the second time around. Would everything be old news? Would I have time to appreciate any of it?

Love love love this boy.

Let there be no doubt: it is still way exciting. In fact, it might even be more so, sort of like how some books are better the second time around because you have context and can appreciate the plot twists and character traits and carefully chosen language even more. The fun part about kids, though, is the book changes the second time around. Similar context; a whole new adventure.

Our first adventure. (Still in progress, of course.)

Showing off her new favorite shoes...

...and making room for adventure number two.

So what have we learned so far about our little boy? Well, he's loud. He loves to chatter, and it is loud chatter. His coos are sometimes earsplitting. It's very fun to hear him talk, and we're pretty sure he talks more than Cambrie did. She was more contemplative, and he is more conversational. (Goodness knows Cambrie talks enough now to make up for any reserved-ness in her infancy.)

Maybe he's loud because he's got a sister setting the example. Know what she's doing in this picture? Yelling "PICKLE!!!!" as loud as she possibly can. That's my girl.

That's not to say he's not an observant little boy. Just in the past few weeks he's started becoming more interested in the world around him--an involved interest rather than a passive one. He loves to reach and grab for things that look like they merit more scrutiny. One day James, Cambrie and I were laying on the bed, and I draped a blanket loosely over us, sort of like a tent. The overhead light made the shapes on the blanket (stars, moons, blocks, pacifiers, etc.) practically glow from underneath.

(Same lighting idea, only it's with a tree instead of a blanket.)

Watching the light and shadow.

It was thrilling, as it always is, to see his eyes light up, too, when he saw those shapes as he never had before. I love being a witness to that sense of wonder, that patient curiosity, that quiet thought, "Wow! Look at those things! I'll keep watching them, maybe I'll try to touch them, and soon I'll figure them out." I see it as he watches the shadows on the wall, the letters on my t-shirt, the toys above his playmat.

He likes the camera, too. This is before he took a swing at it with those adorable, uncoordinated fists of his.

However, he's not quite as still and contemplative as I remember Cambrie being. If there is one thing I know about James, it is that he is wiggly. He was a relentless wiggler before he was born, and it hasn't changed since. His wiggles have translated into a proficiency in rolling, front to back and back to front, and they've aided in scooting, too. This isn't the type of scooting that can almost be considered crawling. It's the type of scooting that means if we put him down on a blanket, every time we look at him afterward he will be in a different position, often a respectable distance from his starting point. One might consider it stealth scooting.

First bike ride--with Grandma and Cambrie's help, of course.

We also love to see his personality showing through. As I think I've mentioned before, James is smiley-er than Cambrie was. He loves to grin, especially at people. Even more especially at his big sister, who then squeals with excitement, "Mommy! James made a smile at me!" Yesterday at the dinner table, Patrick noticed a new face: a mischievous little half-smile. We think it's adorable now--hopefully it won't turn out to be a face to fear because of any mischief that follows.

This isn't the mischievous smile, but it's endearing all the same.

Keep growing, Mr. James! We're excited to keep learning who you are!