You are quite the squirmy little munchkin, Mr. (or Miss) Yightyear. I hope that doesn't sound like a complaint, because truly it's not. Feeling the baby move is my #1 favorite thing about being pregnant, hands down. I love watching my belly jump and wiggle; I love that an actual person is making it jump and wiggle. Your kicks haven't been painful, and I'm hoping they'll stay that way. My one request is that you kindly move off my lungs because it's not cute to have to sit and catch your breath coming back from the kitchen.
Oh, and you're now the size of a butternut squash! Very fitting since you'll be eating lots and lots of those when it comes time for solid food. Just ask your sister. She'll tell you they rock. Unless, of course, she doesn't. In which case she'll be lying.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Tuesday, August 09, 2011
Weekly Buzz - Week 26
Super Lame Pregnancy App (SLPA) says you're now the size of a hothouse cucumber. The size? Really? Length, sure. Shape, most assuredly no. Your big-headed self is anything BUT the shape of a hothouse cucumber. A hothouse cucumber with a mango on top, perhaps.
Tuesday, August 02, 2011
Weekly Buzz - Week 25
Hey guess what! You went from 23.5 weeks to 25 weeks (well, not really, but as far as me keeping track, we completely skipped over your 24th week. Sorry about that.) I had my routine monthly appointment today and my midwife said that she forgot to tell me at my last appointment that she moved my due date up. So instead of being due on Thanksgiving, you're now due on 11/15. I vote for 11/11. Having both your and Nat's birth days full of 1s would be neat.
In all honesty, a different due date doesn't change anything. You're going to come when you're good and ready. Just ask your six-days-late sister and how her tardiness cost Daddy and me the tax break for 2008 by 15 hours. Don't tell her I said this, but she soooooo owes us.
In all honesty, a different due date doesn't change anything. You're going to come when you're good and ready. Just ask your six-days-late sister and how her tardiness cost Daddy and me the tax break for 2008 by 15 hours. Don't tell her I said this, but she soooooo owes us.
Monday, August 01, 2011
July 2011 - Recap
My darling Miss Independent,
This month marked the "I can do it ALL by myself. I don't need ANY help" stage. And for the most part, I obliged. Even though that meant watching you try to stand up after you put both legs through one leg hole of your shorts. Or watching you try to take your just-slightly-too-small shirt off only for it to end up over your head, looking like a shrug. Or watching you try to put your hair in a ponytail by stretching a rubber band and laying it on top of your head. Or watching you try to do a somersault without quite knowing how to tuck-and-roll. And if Daddy or I even THINK about helping you do something you know how to do (like getting in your carseat by yourself, for example), whoo doggies. Watch out. It was raining one day so I was carrying you from the house to the car (since you have a tendency to both dilly AND dally on your way to the car and I didn't want you to get soaked). I made the fatal error of transferring you from my arms into your car seat. Cue the Meltdown, Armageddon Style. You sobbed and wailed and shrieked, "I want to do it MYSELF!! Don't put me in! I do it!!!!" We get a similar reaction if we fasten the chest strap of your carseat for you. That's your job. And we best not forget it.
You like for me to make faces. Namely Happy Face, Sad Face, Mad Face, Angry Face (not quite sure why you insist on BOTH Mad Face and Angry Face), Surprised Face, Scared Face, and Sleepy Face. When I do Sad or Mad or Angry or Scared Face, you frown and say "Ohhhh ... Mommy's sad [or mad or angry or scared]. I come and make her feel better." Then you walk over to me and gently pat my face. In return, I put on my Happy Face and thank you for making me feel better. For some reason, you find this to be the best game EVER. You get so tickled when our Sad Face turns into Happy Face. For the record, you make quite an awesome Mad Face. You glare and pucker your lips like you're about to kiss me. Not that I've kissed you when you do your Mad Face. Cuz you don't look cute or anything. You like to make those faces too. And when you've got your Sad Face or Scared Face, you ask us (in an appropriately Sad or Scared Voice) to make you feel better. Your Feel Better Face is your Surprised Face. It rocks.
So last month I mentioned how you're enormously curious about the songs that come on the radio, and that's how come we listen to KLOVE the vast majority of the time. Well you're now able able to hear the opening bars of no fewer than 17 songs and immediately tell me the title. Seriously. No lie. And you look so proud of yourself when you recognize a song. And I have to say, I'm super proud of you. The things you pick up on are amazing.
Speaking of songs, one that you've requested a lot is "The B-I-B-L-E Song", or, as you call it "The B-I-L-E Song". It seems like we need to have the "Taking out just one letter from a word can really REALLY change the word" chat.
So you're a little shaky on the proper spelling of 'Bible'. But what you're NOT shaky on is how to spell Mickey Mouse. Thanks to that infernal (not really, but kind of) show, you now go around the house hollering "M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!" You sing the theme song to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse approximately 749 times per day. Perhaps 4 of those times are done in your Inside Voice. The other 745 times are done proudly in your Outside Voice. (If you've never seen MMC, feel free to jump down to the next paragraph - because what I'm about to describe won't make a lick of sense to you). When you come across something that's broken or something that's dirty or something that's out of reach, you immediately shout "I need a Mousekatool! Oh Tooooooooooodles!! I need [some tape/some cleaner/a ladder/a baby elephant/whatever]!" Oh, if only Toodles were just a shout away. Because sometimes, a baby elephant would come in handy.
You had your first M&Ms this month (I know, I know - could I BE any less fun?). And instead of calling them M&Ms, you call them "Madams". It's very strange to be walking in a store with you, see you point to an M&M display and shout "Momma! Dere's a brown madam!!"
So we haven't gotten to the "Why?" stage with you. Instead, we're smack-dab in the "What kind?" stage. Let me give you some examples.
You: Momma, wass dat? [pointing to a tree]
Me: You know what that is!
You: Oh yeah, a twee. What kind of twee?
Me: [suddenly aware that the only trees I can identify for sure are palm trees and pine trees - and this tree is neither] Um, it's a green tree.
You: Oh yeah. What kind of gween twee?
Me: Umm, a green tree with leaves.
You: What kind of yeeves?
Me: Green leaves.
You: What kind of gween yeeves?
Me: Uhhhh, big green leaves.
You: What kind of big green leaves?
Me: Big green leaves that are on the green tree.
You: Oh. Yeah. On the twee.
You: Momma, wass dat? [pointing to an airplane at the Aviation Museum]
Me: It's an airplane, silly.
You: Oh yeah, an airpwane. What kind of airpwane?
Me: Ummm ... it's a big airplane.
You: What kind of big airpwane?
Me: Um, it's a big grey airplane.
You: What kind of big gwey airpwane?
Me: The kind with a propeller.
You: What kind of pwopey-yer?
Me: Ummm ... the kind that spins.
You: What kind of spins?
Me: The spins that a propeller does when the airplane is in the sky.
You: What kind of sky?
Me: Look up - that sky!
You: Oh! Okay!
You: Momma, what are you doing?
Me: Making dinner.
You: What kind of dinner?
Me: Spaghetti.
You: What kind of spaghetti?
Me: Noodles with sauce.
You: What kind of noodles and sauce?
Me: Yellow curly noodles with tomato and meat sauce.
You: What kind of tomato and meat sauce?
Me: The kind of sauce that has tomatoes and meat.
You: What kind of tomatoes?
Me: Canned tomatoes.
You: What kind of can?
Me: [my brain explodes]
Your inquisitive nature has forced me to admit several things: 1) I know very little in-depth information about most things 2) I have, on occasion, made something up so you'll stop asking me questions. 3) I will not win Mother of the Year this year.
You had your first experience with authentic New Orleans beignets this month. Your pregnant mommy had a hankerin' for them and your wonderful daddy suggested that we all take a road trip to Cafe Du Monde for some powdered sugar-covered tasty treats and delicious chicory coffee. Daddy and I had you pretty pumped up the whole drive over to New Orleans about getting some beignets (or, as you insisted on calling them, Donuts wiff White Sugar). And, blissfully, the beignets disappointed nary a member of Team Smith. They were hot. They were sweet. They weren't the least bit greasy. They were perfect. And they were gone in a matter of seconds. We even stopped back by Cafe du Monde for another two batches as we headed back home. Beignets aren't the ideal road trip food, but hey, we were in a rental car. Rental cars are made for beignets. On the way back home, your method of eating beignets changed drastically. Instead of scarfing it down (like you did earlier that morning), you simply licked all the powdered sugar off of it, dropped the now-gummy-and-soggy beignet on the floor of the car and asked for another one. Guess who lost all beignet-eating privileges on her ride home?
My belly is getting bigger and you're becoming more and more aware of it. You've decided that since I have Baby Buzz in my tummy, you have Baby Woody in your tummy. You especially like lifting your shirt to show me your tummy (and presumably Baby Woody). You've started showing me how you comfort your babies when they're 'sad' or 'crying'. You put them on your shoulder, pat their backs, and say "It's okay, babies. Don't cwy." It seriously makes me melt. I have no doubt you'll have your moments when you won't be quite as sweet with the real Baby Buzz, but to know that you have a nurturing heart is so amazing. You're going to be such an awesome big sister. And as an Awesome Big Sister, one of your jobs will be to answer all of Buzz's "What Kind?" questions.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy
Headlines for August 1, 2011
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
This month marked the "I can do it ALL by myself. I don't need ANY help" stage. And for the most part, I obliged. Even though that meant watching you try to stand up after you put both legs through one leg hole of your shorts. Or watching you try to take your just-slightly-too-small shirt off only for it to end up over your head, looking like a shrug. Or watching you try to put your hair in a ponytail by stretching a rubber band and laying it on top of your head. Or watching you try to do a somersault without quite knowing how to tuck-and-roll. And if Daddy or I even THINK about helping you do something you know how to do (like getting in your carseat by yourself, for example), whoo doggies. Watch out. It was raining one day so I was carrying you from the house to the car (since you have a tendency to both dilly AND dally on your way to the car and I didn't want you to get soaked). I made the fatal error of transferring you from my arms into your car seat. Cue the Meltdown, Armageddon Style. You sobbed and wailed and shrieked, "I want to do it MYSELF!! Don't put me in! I do it!!!!" We get a similar reaction if we fasten the chest strap of your carseat for you. That's your job. And we best not forget it.
You like for me to make faces. Namely Happy Face, Sad Face, Mad Face, Angry Face (not quite sure why you insist on BOTH Mad Face and Angry Face), Surprised Face, Scared Face, and Sleepy Face. When I do Sad or Mad or Angry or Scared Face, you frown and say "Ohhhh ... Mommy's sad [or mad or angry or scared]. I come and make her feel better." Then you walk over to me and gently pat my face. In return, I put on my Happy Face and thank you for making me feel better. For some reason, you find this to be the best game EVER. You get so tickled when our Sad Face turns into Happy Face. For the record, you make quite an awesome Mad Face. You glare and pucker your lips like you're about to kiss me. Not that I've kissed you when you do your Mad Face. Cuz you don't look cute or anything. You like to make those faces too. And when you've got your Sad Face or Scared Face, you ask us (in an appropriately Sad or Scared Voice) to make you feel better. Your Feel Better Face is your Surprised Face. It rocks.
So last month I mentioned how you're enormously curious about the songs that come on the radio, and that's how come we listen to KLOVE the vast majority of the time. Well you're now able able to hear the opening bars of no fewer than 17 songs and immediately tell me the title. Seriously. No lie. And you look so proud of yourself when you recognize a song. And I have to say, I'm super proud of you. The things you pick up on are amazing.
Speaking of songs, one that you've requested a lot is "The B-I-B-L-E Song", or, as you call it "The B-I-L-E Song". It seems like we need to have the "Taking out just one letter from a word can really REALLY change the word" chat.
So you're a little shaky on the proper spelling of 'Bible'. But what you're NOT shaky on is how to spell Mickey Mouse. Thanks to that infernal (not really, but kind of) show, you now go around the house hollering "M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!" You sing the theme song to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse approximately 749 times per day. Perhaps 4 of those times are done in your Inside Voice. The other 745 times are done proudly in your Outside Voice. (If you've never seen MMC, feel free to jump down to the next paragraph - because what I'm about to describe won't make a lick of sense to you). When you come across something that's broken or something that's dirty or something that's out of reach, you immediately shout "I need a Mousekatool! Oh Tooooooooooodles!! I need [some tape/some cleaner/a ladder/a baby elephant/whatever]!" Oh, if only Toodles were just a shout away. Because sometimes, a baby elephant would come in handy.
You had your first M&Ms this month (I know, I know - could I BE any less fun?). And instead of calling them M&Ms, you call them "Madams". It's very strange to be walking in a store with you, see you point to an M&M display and shout "Momma! Dere's a brown madam!!"
So we haven't gotten to the "Why?" stage with you. Instead, we're smack-dab in the "What kind?" stage. Let me give you some examples.
You: Momma, wass dat? [pointing to a tree]
Me: You know what that is!
You: Oh yeah, a twee. What kind of twee?
Me: [suddenly aware that the only trees I can identify for sure are palm trees and pine trees - and this tree is neither] Um, it's a green tree.
You: Oh yeah. What kind of gween twee?
Me: Umm, a green tree with leaves.
You: What kind of yeeves?
Me: Green leaves.
You: What kind of gween yeeves?
Me: Uhhhh, big green leaves.
You: What kind of big green leaves?
Me: Big green leaves that are on the green tree.
You: Oh. Yeah. On the twee.
You: Momma, wass dat? [pointing to an airplane at the Aviation Museum]
Me: It's an airplane, silly.
You: Oh yeah, an airpwane. What kind of airpwane?
Me: Ummm ... it's a big airplane.
You: What kind of big airpwane?
Me: Um, it's a big grey airplane.
You: What kind of big gwey airpwane?
Me: The kind with a propeller.
You: What kind of pwopey-yer?
Me: Ummm ... the kind that spins.
You: What kind of spins?
Me: The spins that a propeller does when the airplane is in the sky.
You: What kind of sky?
Me: Look up - that sky!
You: Oh! Okay!
You: Momma, what are you doing?
Me: Making dinner.
You: What kind of dinner?
Me: Spaghetti.
You: What kind of spaghetti?
Me: Noodles with sauce.
You: What kind of noodles and sauce?
Me: Yellow curly noodles with tomato and meat sauce.
You: What kind of tomato and meat sauce?
Me: The kind of sauce that has tomatoes and meat.
You: What kind of tomatoes?
Me: Canned tomatoes.
You: What kind of can?
Me: [my brain explodes]
Your inquisitive nature has forced me to admit several things: 1) I know very little in-depth information about most things 2) I have, on occasion, made something up so you'll stop asking me questions. 3) I will not win Mother of the Year this year.
You had your first experience with authentic New Orleans beignets this month. Your pregnant mommy had a hankerin' for them and your wonderful daddy suggested that we all take a road trip to Cafe Du Monde for some powdered sugar-covered tasty treats and delicious chicory coffee. Daddy and I had you pretty pumped up the whole drive over to New Orleans about getting some beignets (or, as you insisted on calling them, Donuts wiff White Sugar). And, blissfully, the beignets disappointed nary a member of Team Smith. They were hot. They were sweet. They weren't the least bit greasy. They were perfect. And they were gone in a matter of seconds. We even stopped back by Cafe du Monde for another two batches as we headed back home. Beignets aren't the ideal road trip food, but hey, we were in a rental car. Rental cars are made for beignets. On the way back home, your method of eating beignets changed drastically. Instead of scarfing it down (like you did earlier that morning), you simply licked all the powdered sugar off of it, dropped the now-gummy-and-soggy beignet on the floor of the car and asked for another one. Guess who lost all beignet-eating privileges on her ride home?
My belly is getting bigger and you're becoming more and more aware of it. You've decided that since I have Baby Buzz in my tummy, you have Baby Woody in your tummy. You especially like lifting your shirt to show me your tummy (and presumably Baby Woody). You've started showing me how you comfort your babies when they're 'sad' or 'crying'. You put them on your shoulder, pat their backs, and say "It's okay, babies. Don't cwy." It seriously makes me melt. I have no doubt you'll have your moments when you won't be quite as sweet with the real Baby Buzz, but to know that you have a nurturing heart is so amazing. You're going to be such an awesome big sister. And as an Awesome Big Sister, one of your jobs will be to answer all of Buzz's "What Kind?" questions.
Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy
Headlines for August 1, 2011
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
- Key vote looms after deal OKs $2 trillion in budget cuts
- Wall Street set to rally on US debt deal hopes
- Smallest med school in U.S. opens with 8 students
- An electric plane you can (almost) buy
- Al Pacino's daughter arrested for DWI
- Divers Search Pond for Signs of Missing N.H. Girl
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