Month 4 - Recap

Sooo, yeah. I know you can't see me glaring at you, but trust me. I am. SOMEbody has decided to stop sleeping through the night. SOMEbody thinks that '1 O'Clock Mommy' is a waaaaaaay fun Mommy. SOMEbody thinks that if he doesn't see me at least twice a night, he's not doing his job as a baby. SOMEbody is wrong. SOMEbody is a crackhead. '1 O'Clock Mommy' is NOT fun. '1 O'Clock Mommy' is un-fun, grumpy, crazy-haired and bleary-eyed. You know who's even un-funner, grumpier and crazier-haired and blearier-eyed than '1 O'Clock Mommy'? '1 O'Clock Mommy AND 3 O'Clock Mommy.' You know who IS fun? 'Mommy Who Has an Infant Who Goes More Than Three Hours Between Night Feedings'. THAT Mommy is refreshed (relatively speaking) and smiley. Perhaps I've neglected in explaining the differences in these two Mommies. But now I have. Now you know. Now go back to sleeping through the night. (I should note that if you hadn't gone almost three weeks of sleeping through the night, I wouldn't be fussing at you for not doing it. But you did do it. So I know you can do it. There's nobody to blame but yourself.)

You are still the drooliest, slobberiest, gnawingest, wet-necked child on the face of the planet. You go through no fewer than three bibs per day. And those are just during the times you're wearing clothes. (It's been so annoyingly warm and humid lately that you've had a lot of time just being in your diaper). I keep checking for teeth, but I don't feel any yet. Maybe you just find your fist tasty. Because goodness knows, I find your toes and cheeks and belly impossibly delicious. Oh, and your dimples. Your dimples are scrumptious.

You've starting curling your arm around my neck when I carry you. I don't think I need to explain just how adorable this is. (But in case I do, here goes: It's ridiculously adorable). You also like holding on to my hair. This is only slightly less adorable, as you have a pretty good grip but haven't yet mastered the art of gently opening your fist to release my hair.

I love watching you watch Natalie. You study her so intently, soaking up all her antics (and trust me, that girl has antics for DAYS). When you cry in your carseat, Natalie usually announces that you're crying because you want to get out and play with your big sister. She's exactly right. I can tell you're just itching to play with her - and vice versa.

You're really excitable. Especially when Daddy, Natalie, or I act silly (which is pretty much all the time). And you're not just 'kind of excited'; you're more like 'yellow lab excited'. You wiggle and squirm and squeal and bounce. Your arms flail, your legs kick. If it weren't for your gargantuan head weighing you down, I'm quite convinced that your moves would cause you to defy gravity, take flight, and zoom around the living room.

Everybody (friends, family, complete strangers) comments on how much you look like Daddy. I hate to say it, but I don't really see it. But I think that's because I'm around you all day. I mean, I think you're heart-wrenching adorable and I find Daddy incredibly cute. So based on that, then yes, you two look alike. I'm enormously lucky to be around such good-lookin' fellas. (Now you say "And I'm enormously to be around such good-lookin' ladies, like you and Natalie". Now I say "You're right. Now you can have a cookie.") Because around this house, I'm not above using cookies to get compliments.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines for March 9, 2012:

• Dogs sniff out anti-terror role at London Olympics
• As sea levels rise, whole country eyes move to Fiji
• With tensions high in Mideast, evangelical Christians tighten embrace of Israel
• Bloggers not impressed with Romney's Super Tuesday
• The Perfect Place for Peyton: Seattle
• Spanx creator Sara Blakely becomes youngest woman on Forbes Billionaires List

Weekly Smithkids - Weeks 161, 162, 163, 164, & 12, 13, 14, 15

I am SERIOUSLY slacking in posting Smithkids updates. How terrible. To show my remorse, I'll post a picture from this past weekend at the wedding of one of my dear friends from high school. It's not a Smithkid picture, but there would BE no Smithkids if it were not for these two chuckleheads.

February 2012 - Recap

And the Oscar for longest list of bedtime-delay tactics goes to ... you. I had NO idea that a three-year-old could come up with the wackadoo things that you do in order to delay bedtime. You even resort to affection (seriously? I have to practically tackle you to get a kiss, but when it's bedtime, you want kiss after kiss after kiss after kiss. Adorable? Yes. Dirty pool? Oh yes.) Here is a list of things that you've called out to us after we've put you to bed.

• Something's tick-yin (tickling) my feet!
• Ash-yee's (Ashley - your Cabbage Patch Kid) hair is sticking up!!
• My bee-yanket (blanket) is bwoken (broken).
• My ewephant (elephant) won't stop moving (Note: your elephant is a stuffed animal. A non-electronic, non-moving stuffed animal.)
• Yaw-wen Bear (Lauren Bear - your beloved teddy bear) keeps diwwy-dow-ee-ing (dilly-dallying).
• I don't yike (like) gum!!!!!!! (Um, what?)

Most of our responses are "Aw, gee, I'm sorry. Well, good night! We love you!" Shockingly, you don't like our responses.

You and Daddy have started an 'I Love You More Than' game. Allow me to describe:
Daddy: I love you more than ... chocolate cake!
You: [giggling] Nooooo ... rewwy?? (really)
Daddy: Yep!
You: I yuhve you more than ... waisins (raisins)!
Daddy: No way!
You: Yes!!!
Daddy: I love you more than bacon!
You: No way. Dat's siwwy (silly).
Daddy: It's true!!
You: I yuhve you more than ... theeka thouka thacka!!!
Daddy: Um, wow! That's ... uh ... fantastic!!

You've always gotten a kick out of watching me put on my makeup in the morning ("Wow! Those little brushes, tubes, and blocks of color are magic! They make Mommy go from 'Haggard' to 'Haggard with Darker Eyelashes and Rosier Cheeks'. Amazing!"). And you've started asking why I put it on. I have to choose my words carefully, because I don't want to lead you to believe that you can't be pretty or feel pretty without wearing makeup. You got some Dora makeup for your birthday. And by 'makeup', I mean nail polish and lip gloss. You didn't have must interest in it until the past week. Now you're fascinated by it. You paint your toes and fingers no fewer than six times a day. Your toes are truly a work of art. A pink and purple and blue symphony of sparkles. It would be quicker (and have the same outcome) if you just dipped your toes directly into a big bowl of polish. But that'd be too easy. You'll sit on the kitchen floor, and methodically paint each toe (notice I put 'toe' and not just 'toenail'). I have to admit, it makes me giggle. Perhaps I should help you take it off before we go to church (or really anywhere in public), but I just can't bring myself to do it. You're so proud of your handiwork, and really, you're three. This is what you're supposed to be doing. And let's not forget the lip gloss. Ohhhh, the lip gloss. Or, more accurately, Yip Gwoss. You stand in front of your bathroom mirror and lather it on. It's gloppy, it's sticky, it's gooey, it's sparkly. In other words, it's a three-year-old girl's BFF. You look like a hot mess when you're finished, but again, you're so proud of yourself that I can't help but smile.

You've got a pretty good handle on using the certain room in our house for certain bodily functions. Even though it's not really new to you anymore, you still like to sing a "Yay, I did it!" song after you go. What's funny is that you sing the song for me when I go and tell me how proud of I am you are. I have to admit, it's pretty adorable. You also congratulate me for eating my vegetables, for giving Daddy a hug, and for emptying the dishwasher. Having you around is like having my own little personal cheerleader.

I lost my temper at you the other day. I'm not one of those parents who can keep their cool in every situation and only respond to Toddler Rudeness (and not react), but the other day was cuh-RAZY. I was sleep-deprived (I'm glaring at your brother right now) and you woke up unnaturally early that day - so we were both on edge. I won't go into details what I freaked out over, but after we had both calmed down, I came to you and apologized for yelling. You smiled, grabbed my face in your hands, and simply said "You're forgiven, Mommy!". Then you asked me to play Candy Land. Your forgiveness was so simple, yet so kind. Daddy and I try really hard to teach you to apologize and we make a big deal about forgiveness. It's been a great avenue to introduce you to the way God forgives us. And when you said "You're forgiven" and immediately forgot about it and wanted to play Candy Land, it was a beautiful picture of how easily and quickly God forgives us when we confess our wrongdoings. You didn't hold it over my head and neither does God. Thank you, my precious girl, for giving me glimpses of our God. Sometimes I get so caught up in being a Mommy and a wife that I forget that first and foremost, I'm a child of God. And you, sweet girl, are an unparalleled blessing.

Hugs and smooches,
Mommy & Daddy

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Headlines from March 1, 2012:

• More twisters in forecast as survivors recount ordeal
• Prosecutors: Jerry Sandusky's alleged victims as young as 8
• Women donate 'dining out' money to women globally
• Romney, Santorum fight for Super Tuesday prize
• Coroner: Davy Jones died of heart attack
• Jaleel White of 'Family Matters' joins 'Dancing With the Stars' cast: Who are you rooting for?