Well, its official. The EdelSpot has moved. Please join us at our new location www.edelspot.com
Catch you on the flip side!
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Monday, April 8, 2013
About Mr. B
Beckett. I don't even have words. He is already, ALREADY 19 months old. And he keeps me so busy, I haven't recorded a single thing he has done. And he has done so, so much.
I used this blog as a kind of baby book for Kate, and I look back at the year and a half since B was born and it is glaringly obvious I've been outmatched by my kids. As in, no time to write, journal, think, shower, breathe, shower, think... wait, where was I?
Ah yes. I've been remiss in sharing some of the best details of the most amazing boy I've ever met. Beckett has this smile that just lights up the world. He has never met a stranger. I mean, NEVER. He says "Hi!" and waves to nearly everyone we pass. And then, once we've walked by, he waves again and tells them goodbye.
He flirts. Indiscriminately. The ladies at the grocery store. Little girls at the playground. Moms in the gymnastics lobby. He hugs, loves, talks, waves and bats his incredibly baby blues at everyone. And melts hearts.
He has a huge vocabulary. I'm not sure how it compares to Kate at this age, but he mimics every word he hears. And his comprehension is fabulous. I love how instead of yes he says, "'Kay" or "Um hm" right before sticking those two fingers back in his mouth.
Today he said "Sorry" to Kate, unprompted for the first time. When he hits or accidentally hurts her, I always make him say sorry (and vice versa, obviously). But today in the car, when he took her water cup and dropped it instead of giving it back, she started to cry. And he, in all sweetness, gave her his beaming smile and told her, "Sorry. Sorry Katie." It melted my heart.
He calls Kate, Katie. He knows Grammy, Pops and Mimi and Papa too. He talks to Jack, makes pirate noises and loves to yell like a cowboy when he is on my old rocking horse. He can climb up and get off the bench at our dining table all by himself. And when he is told to go to his room for time out, he grins at you, walks into his room and sits on the floor. Which makes being upset with him nearly impossible.
He loves cars. And trucks. And trains. And Toy Story anything. But he also loves whatever his sister loves. So he loves pink. And princesses. And when she is playing with Barbies, he wants to be the pretty one. And he then uses the doll as a hammer or projectile... because he is so very boy. But so very innocent and sweet and unmarked by adult perception of what is a "boy" or a "girl" toy.
He loves to wear hats and sunglasses. He spent an entire morning the other day in his PJs with bunny ears on. While we went to the gym, to the store and to school to pick up Kate. He is funny. If he gets a laugh, he will do something as many times as it takes for you to stop thinking it is funny.
He is incredibly good natured. But when he is upset, he hits. And as soon as he hits, he snuggles. Its like the amount of frustration and baby need is so much that he can't help himself, and once he has lashed out he feels so bad that he just wants cuddles.
He is such a love bug. He will wrap his arms around your neck and squeeze, and it is just the best hug. He loves giving kisses, and better yet will (usually) sit still for me to kiss all over him. He says, "Love, love" or "too" to let you know he loves you. Which means, "I love you" or "I love you too."
And he loves big. When I see him and Kate together it makes my heart so happy I can barely stand it. Sure there are sibling issues some times, but there is a real, true love and bond between the two of them that I just pray will continue to deepen as they get older. Sometimes they snuggle, sometimes they wrestle, but they always love each other. And Kate. Oh my, that girl was made to be a big sister. She is so loving, so caring. I am so proud of the little girl she is becoming.
So that is about it for now. Mainly because I need to get some sleep before they wake and start me off on a whole new day of adventures. I could go on forever. I am in awe of my children and each and every day I think God for the two precious gifts I have been given.
No matter that I don't have time to shower. Showering can happen when they are grown.
I used this blog as a kind of baby book for Kate, and I look back at the year and a half since B was born and it is glaringly obvious I've been outmatched by my kids. As in, no time to write, journal, think, shower, breathe, shower, think... wait, where was I?
Ah yes. I've been remiss in sharing some of the best details of the most amazing boy I've ever met. Beckett has this smile that just lights up the world. He has never met a stranger. I mean, NEVER. He says "Hi!" and waves to nearly everyone we pass. And then, once we've walked by, he waves again and tells them goodbye.
He flirts. Indiscriminately. The ladies at the grocery store. Little girls at the playground. Moms in the gymnastics lobby. He hugs, loves, talks, waves and bats his incredibly baby blues at everyone. And melts hearts.
He has a huge vocabulary. I'm not sure how it compares to Kate at this age, but he mimics every word he hears. And his comprehension is fabulous. I love how instead of yes he says, "'Kay" or "Um hm" right before sticking those two fingers back in his mouth.
Today he said "Sorry" to Kate, unprompted for the first time. When he hits or accidentally hurts her, I always make him say sorry (and vice versa, obviously). But today in the car, when he took her water cup and dropped it instead of giving it back, she started to cry. And he, in all sweetness, gave her his beaming smile and told her, "Sorry. Sorry Katie." It melted my heart.
He calls Kate, Katie. He knows Grammy, Pops and Mimi and Papa too. He talks to Jack, makes pirate noises and loves to yell like a cowboy when he is on my old rocking horse. He can climb up and get off the bench at our dining table all by himself. And when he is told to go to his room for time out, he grins at you, walks into his room and sits on the floor. Which makes being upset with him nearly impossible.
He loves cars. And trucks. And trains. And Toy Story anything. But he also loves whatever his sister loves. So he loves pink. And princesses. And when she is playing with Barbies, he wants to be the pretty one. And he then uses the doll as a hammer or projectile... because he is so very boy. But so very innocent and sweet and unmarked by adult perception of what is a "boy" or a "girl" toy.
He loves to wear hats and sunglasses. He spent an entire morning the other day in his PJs with bunny ears on. While we went to the gym, to the store and to school to pick up Kate. He is funny. If he gets a laugh, he will do something as many times as it takes for you to stop thinking it is funny.
He is incredibly good natured. But when he is upset, he hits. And as soon as he hits, he snuggles. Its like the amount of frustration and baby need is so much that he can't help himself, and once he has lashed out he feels so bad that he just wants cuddles.
He is such a love bug. He will wrap his arms around your neck and squeeze, and it is just the best hug. He loves giving kisses, and better yet will (usually) sit still for me to kiss all over him. He says, "Love, love" or "too" to let you know he loves you. Which means, "I love you" or "I love you too."
And he loves big. When I see him and Kate together it makes my heart so happy I can barely stand it. Sure there are sibling issues some times, but there is a real, true love and bond between the two of them that I just pray will continue to deepen as they get older. Sometimes they snuggle, sometimes they wrestle, but they always love each other. And Kate. Oh my, that girl was made to be a big sister. She is so loving, so caring. I am so proud of the little girl she is becoming.
So that is about it for now. Mainly because I need to get some sleep before they wake and start me off on a whole new day of adventures. I could go on forever. I am in awe of my children and each and every day I think God for the two precious gifts I have been given.
No matter that I don't have time to shower. Showering can happen when they are grown.
Monday, October 1, 2012
It's a Kate, Kate World: Second Edition
When you have a three-year-old, it is nearly guaranteed that whatever comes out of their mouth will make you swoon, sigh, swear or cringe. With Kate, sometimes I do all four. At the same time. Here is a little second edition of things my daughter has said recently that makes me realize, once again, it's a Kate, Kate world -- we are all just living in it.
*silence*
Kate (shouting from somewhere in the house): MOM!
Me: Yes honey?
Kate: I love you!!
Me: Aww. I love you too sweetie. Where are you?
*silence*
Kate: Going potty.
*silence*
Me: Hm. I guess we all think about different things in there...
----
Me: Hey sweetie, you got an invitation to a classmate's birthday party! Is Benjamin nice, do you play with him?
Kate: Ew, no! Benjamin is a boy. WE don't like boys.
Me: Who, may I ask, is WE?
Kate: You know. Us.
*head slap*
Me: So, all the girls in your class have decided you don't like boys?
Kate: Right.
Me: What about your brother? Don't you like him? HE is a boy.
Kate: I like Beckett. I like one boy.
Me: What about Daddy? Do you like him? HE is a boy.
Kate (sounding exasperated): I like Daddy. I like TWO boys.
Me: What about Pops? Do you like him? HE is a boy.
*silence*
Me: Kate?
Kate: *SIGH* WHAT?
Me: *SIGH* Nevermind
-----
Kate: Look! Look Mom, I did it! I wrote my name!
*showing me some scribbles on a piece of paper at the sign-in counter at the gym*
Me: Very nice Kate.
Kate: You know Mom, I don't know about about it, but I'm pretty sure I'm terrific at writing.
-----
As I pick Kate up from school:
Me: Here Kate, I brought you strawberries.
Kate: STRAWBERRIES?!?!?! MOM, you are the BEST MOM!!!!! I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!
Me: Soooo. Strawberries every day after school?
Kate: Or you could bring chocolate milk. That would be pretty cool too Mom.
-----
Kate walks into the kitchen with a dinosaur stuffed up her shirt.
Kate: "Daddy, do you like boobies?"
*Ben studiously ignores her while looking in the fridge*
Kate: Daddy? Do you like my BIG BOOBIES??
*Ben still looking in fridge and refusing to make eye contact with the three-year-old who is making him EXTREMELY UNCOMFORTABLE*
Kate (parading around the kitchen): Daaaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyy.
Ben: KATE. Those are not boobies. That is a dinosaur. Take it out of your shirt.
Kate (pouting): When I grow up, I'm going to have boobies.
*awkward silence*
Kate: BIG boobies.
*Kate stomps out of kitchen. Ben rolls into the fetal position on the floor. I laugh so hard I nearly pee myself*
Friday, September 14, 2012
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Thursday, May 31, 2012
I'm currently blogging from a stationary bike at the gym. It's the closest thing to a couch I could find here, and of I pedal slowly enough, it's like I'm basically sitting still, so it will have to do.
You may be wondering why am I at the gym in the first place, if I have no interest in working out. And it's quite simple.
I am hiding from my children.
That's right. I have come to the gym simply to use their (highly qualified... Or at least passed a background check) childcare. Don't judge. I'm tired, and if the choice is TV or social interaction, at least I chose to force them to be social. So. Mother of the Year here.
The truth is, we just got back from a family reunion and my kids are coming off the high that comes with being the centers of attention from not one, not five, but forty-two freaking family members. Meaning, my kids are being total a-holes.
However, now that I've shuttled them off for an hour or so, I need to catch up on the happenings at the Edelspot. This blog started as a way to chronicle our family when I was pregnant with Kate, and her every milestone for the first two years have been captured. I love that when someone asks me a question about her development, I can simply search the blog for an answer. It's my next-gen baby book. But if I had to rely on the blog for B's development, I'd be limited to the fact that yes, he was born. He nursed for awhile, had shark teeth and was a big freaking boy.
Hope he doesn't have too many questions for me. Because I may have to tell him we lost his "baby book" in a tragic fire. Better excuse than, "Mommy didn't blog about you because your babyhood flew by as she tried to figure out how exactly a family of four worked, and you were lucky to have clean clothes bc there was so little time for anything besides you and your sister so LAY OFF!"
Ahem. Sorry.
Anyways, I feel the need to cover off on a few major milestones, because despite my belief I will never be able to forget the beautiful moments, they do slip away.
So, Beckett started crawling the week after he turned 8 months. He is now hell on wheels. Super fast and almost always chasing after his sister. They like to body slam one another. Which gives me palpitations each time and I remind Late 50 times a day to be gentle... But he always comes back for more (boys. Who understands them??)
Beck also says Dada. And knows its Ben. I have explained to Kate that Dada is simply easier to say than mama, but Ben tends to gloat about it anyways. It's true though that B just loves his daddy.
When we went to Ohio for the family reunion, everyone nicknamed Beck Mr. Happy. And it's so true, the kid is a joy.
Kate rode her first roller coaster last week at Cedar Point. She amazes me with her lack of fear. She has handled our move beautifully. She matches into any day care/classroom like she owns the place. She walks up to kids older than her and tells them her name and asks theirs. My little three-year old has more self-assurance and social graces than half the adults I meet. My heart is full of that little, defiant, strong, awesome kiddo.
Oh, and Beck can (and will) eat anything you put in front of him. He truly seems to eat more than Kate. I keep telling her that he will be bigger than her soon, but her pickiness seems to override her fear of Beckett. The force against eating anything healthy is strong in that one.
I suppose those are the major updates. I should probably quit using this bike as my own personal lounge chair and collect the kiddos. Oh, wait, I think Ellen is going to come on TV soon. Maybe just another half hour...
You may be wondering why am I at the gym in the first place, if I have no interest in working out. And it's quite simple.
I am hiding from my children.
That's right. I have come to the gym simply to use their (highly qualified... Or at least passed a background check) childcare. Don't judge. I'm tired, and if the choice is TV or social interaction, at least I chose to force them to be social. So. Mother of the Year here.
The truth is, we just got back from a family reunion and my kids are coming off the high that comes with being the centers of attention from not one, not five, but forty-two freaking family members. Meaning, my kids are being total a-holes.
However, now that I've shuttled them off for an hour or so, I need to catch up on the happenings at the Edelspot. This blog started as a way to chronicle our family when I was pregnant with Kate, and her every milestone for the first two years have been captured. I love that when someone asks me a question about her development, I can simply search the blog for an answer. It's my next-gen baby book. But if I had to rely on the blog for B's development, I'd be limited to the fact that yes, he was born. He nursed for awhile, had shark teeth and was a big freaking boy.
Hope he doesn't have too many questions for me. Because I may have to tell him we lost his "baby book" in a tragic fire. Better excuse than, "Mommy didn't blog about you because your babyhood flew by as she tried to figure out how exactly a family of four worked, and you were lucky to have clean clothes bc there was so little time for anything besides you and your sister so LAY OFF!"
Ahem. Sorry.
Anyways, I feel the need to cover off on a few major milestones, because despite my belief I will never be able to forget the beautiful moments, they do slip away.
So, Beckett started crawling the week after he turned 8 months. He is now hell on wheels. Super fast and almost always chasing after his sister. They like to body slam one another. Which gives me palpitations each time and I remind Late 50 times a day to be gentle... But he always comes back for more (boys. Who understands them??)
Beck also says Dada. And knows its Ben. I have explained to Kate that Dada is simply easier to say than mama, but Ben tends to gloat about it anyways. It's true though that B just loves his daddy.
When we went to Ohio for the family reunion, everyone nicknamed Beck Mr. Happy. And it's so true, the kid is a joy.
Kate rode her first roller coaster last week at Cedar Point. She amazes me with her lack of fear. She has handled our move beautifully. She matches into any day care/classroom like she owns the place. She walks up to kids older than her and tells them her name and asks theirs. My little three-year old has more self-assurance and social graces than half the adults I meet. My heart is full of that little, defiant, strong, awesome kiddo.
Oh, and Beck can (and will) eat anything you put in front of him. He truly seems to eat more than Kate. I keep telling her that he will be bigger than her soon, but her pickiness seems to override her fear of Beckett. The force against eating anything healthy is strong in that one.
I suppose those are the major updates. I should probably quit using this bike as my own personal lounge chair and collect the kiddos. Oh, wait, I think Ellen is going to come on TV soon. Maybe just another half hour...
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Whining and weaning
I'm weaning Beckett.
I've nursed him nearly two months longer than I nursed Kate, partially because when Kate was six months old we went on a vacation without her and my milk started to dry up, leading to a pretty easy and natural weaning. But the other reason I have continued to nurse Beckett is more emotional. Ben and I are (sort of) in agreement (sometimes) that B will be our last. Which means this is the last time I will nurse, using my breasts for a higher purpose (MY BREASTS ARE AMAZING! THEY GIVE LIFE! THEY FEED ANOTHER HUMAN!) rather than just weekend funbags for the hubs (who is all, YOUR BREASTS ARE AMAZING! CAN I TOUCH THEM AGAIN??)
But when Beckett sprouted his sixth (SIXTH!!?! WTF??) tooth, I decided it was time to cut the cord. Because each nursing session was like breastfeeding a baby bear. Or a cuddly tiger. OR FUCKING JAWS.
So I started last week giving him only bottles after lunch. He was pretty not okay with the whole situation, but I learned that if I just propped him up on a pillow, handed him a bottle and hid out of sight, little dude would drink. Because while boob was his preference, he seemed to figure that starving would suck more than drinking out of a bottle. Once we got that figured out, I felt ready to make the switch. So two days ago, after his early morning feeding I made the decision that we were done. That was my last feeding. And that day was great. And I patted myself on the back for a successful weaning.
And it has been. For Beckett anyways. Besides an occasional nudge at the old ta-tas, he seems to be okay with it.
I, on the other hand, am a full-on, hot mess.
I realized my hormones were getting all wonky about a day later when I started tearing up in the grocery store for no reason. Since then, I've been on a wild ride of happy, sad, angry and back to happy every 10-30 minutes. Ben is staying out of my way, which is a good sign I'm being a complete basket case. And if that wasn't enough, my boobs feel like they have been replaced by two bowling balls and my nipples have been hard for a full 48 hours.
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS.
So wish me luck. Because I swear on everything holy, I feel like if my body produces ONE MORE OUNCE OF MILK my breasts will literally explode.
And that would suck.
But when Beckett sprouted his sixth (SIXTH!!?! WTF??) tooth, I decided it was time to cut the cord. Because each nursing session was like breastfeeding a baby bear. Or a cuddly tiger. OR FUCKING JAWS.
So I started last week giving him only bottles after lunch. He was pretty not okay with the whole situation, but I learned that if I just propped him up on a pillow, handed him a bottle and hid out of sight, little dude would drink. Because while boob was his preference, he seemed to figure that starving would suck more than drinking out of a bottle. Once we got that figured out, I felt ready to make the switch. So two days ago, after his early morning feeding I made the decision that we were done. That was my last feeding. And that day was great. And I patted myself on the back for a successful weaning.
And it has been. For Beckett anyways. Besides an occasional nudge at the old ta-tas, he seems to be okay with it.
I, on the other hand, am a full-on, hot mess.
I realized my hormones were getting all wonky about a day later when I started tearing up in the grocery store for no reason. Since then, I've been on a wild ride of happy, sad, angry and back to happy every 10-30 minutes. Ben is staying out of my way, which is a good sign I'm being a complete basket case. And if that wasn't enough, my boobs feel like they have been replaced by two bowling balls and my nipples have been hard for a full 48 hours.
FORTY-EIGHT HOURS.
So wish me luck. Because I swear on everything holy, I feel like if my body produces ONE MORE OUNCE OF MILK my breasts will literally explode.
And that would suck.
 |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
