Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
What Sound Does an Elephant Make, Anyway?
I'm obsessed with checking mamabargains.com even though I rarely buy anything. Actually, I've only ever bought anything once but they have some really awesome stuff at 50% off or more and as soon as it sells out they put up a new bargain. Aaaaanyway... my first/only purchase so far?
These wooden Animalz (plus five or six more that I'm saving for Christmas) that I got on sale for $3.50 a piece (instead of the usual $7.50). I'm using them to teach Mase animal sounds. So far he can kind of moo, he squeaks for an oink, and neither of us have any idea what sound an elephant makes.
These wooden Animalz (plus five or six more that I'm saving for Christmas) that I got on sale for $3.50 a piece (instead of the usual $7.50). I'm using them to teach Mase animal sounds. So far he can kind of moo, he squeaks for an oink, and neither of us have any idea what sound an elephant makes.
But the sheep is his favorite. And the kid can baaa like nobody's business.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Jumpers
There's just something about beautiful fall weather and a big pile of crispy leaves that makes everyone feel good. The smell, the feel... everything about it takes me back to simple, more carefree times. This afternoon, Mase and I went out and tried to find the biggest, best piles of leaves we could (without doing any raking ourselves, of course).
We played in the grass along the road first, where a couple of houses had raked all their leaves up to be collected.
When I texted a picture to my mom, she replied back that it reminded her of when my brother and I were little. I showed the picture to a girl from work who said she wished it was socially acceptable for her to jump around in the leaves.
From our roadside leaf pile, it was off to the park (don't worry, park pictures to follow in another post).
We slid and we swung and we climbed... until we saw the mother of all leaf piles:
It was way bigger than it looks in the picture, too. Huge. At this point, Mason knew how it was done... and he did what any self-respecting baby in his position would do. He jumped.
It took about thirty seconds for me to realize there was no good reason for Mase to be having all the fun. Not socially acceptable? Ha. Lucky for me, having a baby gives me permission to do whatever silly, ridiculous thing I want. So... I jumped.
As Mason and I were rolling around in the leaves giggling like crazy, two sixteenish-looking girls walked past. I watched them say something to each other, wave to Mase, and then dive into our leaf pile. They got up quickly, looking around, making fun of each other, and brushing the leaves out of their hair.
A few minutes went past and a woman (in her forties, maybe?) who had been eating lunch at a picnic table came over to us. She asked Mason's name, said she was on her lunch break but had wanted to do this all day... and jumped right in with Mase! I couldn't believe it. It made my day to know that my baby had made hers.
I don't care who you are... there is nothing like a pile of leaves and a beautiful fall day.
We played in the grass along the road first, where a couple of houses had raked all their leaves up to be collected.
When I texted a picture to my mom, she replied back that it reminded her of when my brother and I were little. I showed the picture to a girl from work who said she wished it was socially acceptable for her to jump around in the leaves.
From our roadside leaf pile, it was off to the park (don't worry, park pictures to follow in another post).
We slid and we swung and we climbed... until we saw the mother of all leaf piles:
It was way bigger than it looks in the picture, too. Huge. At this point, Mason knew how it was done... and he did what any self-respecting baby in his position would do. He jumped.
It took about thirty seconds for me to realize there was no good reason for Mase to be having all the fun. Not socially acceptable? Ha. Lucky for me, having a baby gives me permission to do whatever silly, ridiculous thing I want. So... I jumped.
As Mason and I were rolling around in the leaves giggling like crazy, two sixteenish-looking girls walked past. I watched them say something to each other, wave to Mase, and then dive into our leaf pile. They got up quickly, looking around, making fun of each other, and brushing the leaves out of their hair.
A few minutes went past and a woman (in her forties, maybe?) who had been eating lunch at a picnic table came over to us. She asked Mason's name, said she was on her lunch break but had wanted to do this all day... and jumped right in with Mase! I couldn't believe it. It made my day to know that my baby had made hers.
I don't care who you are... there is nothing like a pile of leaves and a beautiful fall day.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
That Poor Girl
I babysat Haylie this morning. Krissy had made the babies an appointment to get their pictures taken at JCPennys in Altoona this afternoon, so as soon as she got back from her meeting, we got them all dressed up and ready to go. While Krissy was taking her stuff to the car, I snapped a couple quick pictures of my own.
I assure you, those were the best pictures that were taken today.
We got there around one. Judging by Mason's naplessness and the looks of the girls behind the JCP counter, this was not going to be a pretty sight. To my surprise, though, the first fifteen minutes went pretty smoothly. Mase and Haylie held hands, posed for some pictures in front of the corny Christmas tree background, and even smiled a little bit. Haylie got some pictures alone, and just before Mason was getting ready to take his place in front of the camera for his solo shots, the photographer girl looks at the computer.
"Uh oh".
I assure you, those were the best pictures that were taken today.
We got there around one. Judging by Mason's naplessness and the looks of the girls behind the JCP counter, this was not going to be a pretty sight. To my surprise, though, the first fifteen minutes went pretty smoothly. Mase and Haylie held hands, posed for some pictures in front of the corny Christmas tree background, and even smiled a little bit. Haylie got some pictures alone, and just before Mason was getting ready to take his place in front of the camera for his solo shots, the photographer girl looks at the computer.
"Uh oh".
Yeah. The flash wasn't working. Every single smiling, loving, perfectly-posed shot was completely black. Somewhere between that moment and the flash being fixed was when Mason had his first ten meltdowns, so Haylie went first this time. She stared, blank-faced, at the girl and the stupid Elmo doll she kept putting on her head. The photographer, obviously regretting her tragic mistake, kept at it while Krissy ran to the car for a Teddy Graham bribe.
Enter Mason, stage left. With cheeks full of Teddy Grahams, the two of them glare, turn their backs to the camera, and try to escape the room. I jump around, dance like a maniac, and stand on my head (not kidding) to try to get my kid to smile. I even bust out the boob. Still nothing.
When Krissy gives up on Haylie, I plop a handful of Goldfish down on the white canvas and hope it lasts long enough to get a few good shots of Mase in. This shouldn't be difficult - he's completely photogenic and he gives the giant smile and the puppy eyes to everyone on Earth. But no. He's surly. And the photographer misses every smile Mason does happen to smile. She gets goofy faces, two of which I bought, but only because we drove the whole way to Altoona for this monkey business.
At three o'clock I stumbled out of there sweating, exhausted, and forty dollars poorer. As we're leaving, Mason turns to the equally exhausted-looking photographer, waves, and gives her the hugest grin I've ever seen.
JCPenny Photography - thumbs down. Mason sense of humor - definite thumbs up.
Enter Mason, stage left. With cheeks full of Teddy Grahams, the two of them glare, turn their backs to the camera, and try to escape the room. I jump around, dance like a maniac, and stand on my head (not kidding) to try to get my kid to smile. I even bust out the boob. Still nothing.
When Krissy gives up on Haylie, I plop a handful of Goldfish down on the white canvas and hope it lasts long enough to get a few good shots of Mase in. This shouldn't be difficult - he's completely photogenic and he gives the giant smile and the puppy eyes to everyone on Earth. But no. He's surly. And the photographer misses every smile Mason does happen to smile. She gets goofy faces, two of which I bought, but only because we drove the whole way to Altoona for this monkey business.
At three o'clock I stumbled out of there sweating, exhausted, and forty dollars poorer. As we're leaving, Mason turns to the equally exhausted-looking photographer, waves, and gives her the hugest grin I've ever seen.
JCPenny Photography - thumbs down. Mason sense of humor - definite thumbs up.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Taking Candy from Strangers
I was so proud of Mason's Halloween costume this year. I had the pants custom made and I painstakingly crafted his vest and tie-dyed both of our shirts myself. We visited Champs, where random strangers took his picture. Seriously. That's how cute his costume was. I plan on making his costumes myself from now on... at least until he's old enough to freak out if I don't buy him a plastic Spider Man mask.
Behold:
Hippies!
I know, hippies probably don't eat bolony. He just wasn't in the picture-taking mood and the processed meat was the only thing that would work as a distraction.
Last year, I wandered around the neighborhood with Monkey Mason in the stroller, watching all the big kids Trick-or-Treating. This year, we were in on the action.
We braved the cold, knocking on every door in Pleasant Gap. I swear, Mason acted like he was an old Trick-or-Treat pro. He grabbed candy from bowls and, much to my horror, tried to run into peoples' houses like they were his new best friends.
I'm not exactly sure what Trick-or-Treating teaches kids about life, but I'm not sure I like it. Mase had no fear. He wasn't even scared of this guy:
Heck, I was scared of that guy.
Regardless, he had a blast, especially on the ride home when he somehow managed to gnaw through the wrapper of a Snickers bar. Crazy little hippy.
Behold:
Hippies!
I know, hippies probably don't eat bolony. He just wasn't in the picture-taking mood and the processed meat was the only thing that would work as a distraction.
Last year, I wandered around the neighborhood with Monkey Mason in the stroller, watching all the big kids Trick-or-Treating. This year, we were in on the action.
We braved the cold, knocking on every door in Pleasant Gap. I swear, Mason acted like he was an old Trick-or-Treat pro. He grabbed candy from bowls and, much to my horror, tried to run into peoples' houses like they were his new best friends.
I'm not exactly sure what Trick-or-Treating teaches kids about life, but I'm not sure I like it. Mase had no fear. He wasn't even scared of this guy:
Heck, I was scared of that guy.
Regardless, he had a blast, especially on the ride home when he somehow managed to gnaw through the wrapper of a Snickers bar. Crazy little hippy.
Happy Halloween!
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A Quick Halloween Flashback
It's 10AM and Mason is still sleeping (what the heck?!) so here's a couple pictures taken exactly one year ago.
It's my kid's second Halloween. How is that even possible?
It's my kid's second Halloween. How is that even possible?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Scooped, Carved, and Cracked
A few afternoons ago, we took Mase's little pumpkin out on the deck and got ready to carve.
Obviously, I couldn't give a seventeen-month-old a knife, so Mason became the designated seed-scooper-outer.
He ended up being very interested in this pumpkin business, inspecting it carefully. He smelled it:
looked inside:
and, of course, tasted it:
All that scooping wore the kid out, and with Mason safely in his crib for nap time, I did the carving:
Not exactly a work of art, but what could you possibly expect in the span of a twenty-three minute nap? When he woke, I let him inspect the finished product.
I guess he was satisfied, but it took him all of forty-five seconds to take the top off and proceed to shove it inside the pumpkin, crushing my hard work.
Ack. Babies. This is why we don't have any nice things.
Obviously, I couldn't give a seventeen-month-old a knife, so Mason became the designated seed-scooper-outer.
He ended up being very interested in this pumpkin business, inspecting it carefully. He smelled it:
looked inside:
and, of course, tasted it:
All that scooping wore the kid out, and with Mason safely in his crib for nap time, I did the carving:
Not exactly a work of art, but what could you possibly expect in the span of a twenty-three minute nap? When he woke, I let him inspect the finished product.
I guess he was satisfied, but it took him all of forty-five seconds to take the top off and proceed to shove it inside the pumpkin, crushing my hard work.
Ack. Babies. This is why we don't have any nice things.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
The Patch
It was another gorgeous fall day - 70s again! - so Aimee and I took Mason and Madelynn to the pumpkin patch.
First thing was first... Aimee and I aren't ones to miss a perfectly good photo op:
or twenty...
From there, it was off to the corn maze.
I've never been in a corn maze before, but my map-reading skills are apparently horrible, because we quickly got lost in the dark, corny jungle.
Soon, the babies came across a tunnel. Was it the way out?!
We had no idea, but you couldn't have paid Mason to crawl through that thing. Luckily, fearless Madelynn was happy to take the lead.
On the other side of the tunnel was... the buried treasure!
Uninterested in gold and jewels and quickly approaching starvation, the babies shared the only morsel of food in our possession:
Refueled and energized, Mase and Mads escaped the corn maze. But our adventures proved to be far from over when Mason spotted something strange in the distance.
Mads, always one step ahead, was already scoping out the... um.. uh.. sheep?
Goats? I have no idea. All I know is, those things were scarier than getting lost in a corn maze with two babies and no Micky Cheese.
Staring that bugger right the face, Mase shouted out his first animal sound: "baahhhhh!" although the noises these sheep made were far from a friendly little "bahh".
Eventually, we picked out our pumpkins and called it a day.
But not before weighing my pumpkin - 27 pounds!
Mase's favorite part of the afternoon? Sitting with the pumpkins in the wagon ride back to the car.
The only thing tougher than navigating our way through a corn maze is going to be carving pumpkins with a 17-month-old. Stay tuned..
First thing was first... Aimee and I aren't ones to miss a perfectly good photo op:
or twenty...
From there, it was off to the corn maze.
I've never been in a corn maze before, but my map-reading skills are apparently horrible, because we quickly got lost in the dark, corny jungle.
Soon, the babies came across a tunnel. Was it the way out?!
We had no idea, but you couldn't have paid Mason to crawl through that thing. Luckily, fearless Madelynn was happy to take the lead.
On the other side of the tunnel was... the buried treasure!
Uninterested in gold and jewels and quickly approaching starvation, the babies shared the only morsel of food in our possession:
Refueled and energized, Mase and Mads escaped the corn maze. But our adventures proved to be far from over when Mason spotted something strange in the distance.
Mads, always one step ahead, was already scoping out the... um.. uh.. sheep?
Goats? I have no idea. All I know is, those things were scarier than getting lost in a corn maze with two babies and no Micky Cheese.
Staring that bugger right the face, Mase shouted out his first animal sound: "baahhhhh!" although the noises these sheep made were far from a friendly little "bahh".
Eventually, we picked out our pumpkins and called it a day.
But not before weighing my pumpkin - 27 pounds!
Mase's favorite part of the afternoon? Sitting with the pumpkins in the wagon ride back to the car.
The only thing tougher than navigating our way through a corn maze is going to be carving pumpkins with a 17-month-old. Stay tuned..
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Oh No...
He took his own diaper off. How the heck did he do that?
Luckily, that one was just a pee dipe. I guess it's pants for this kid from here on out.
Luckily, that one was just a pee dipe. I guess it's pants for this kid from here on out.
Sunshine Makes Us Happy
Yesterday was beautiful. Today is too... and after getting our first snowfall a few days ago, it was a huge relief to see the sun shining again. It's not winter, yet.
All this sunshine combined with my ELEVEN STRAIGHT HOURS of sleep last night has both Mason and I in amazing moods. As for the ladybugs on our porch... well... I don't think they're quite as happy.
All this sunshine combined with my ELEVEN STRAIGHT HOURS of sleep last night has both Mason and I in amazing moods. As for the ladybugs on our porch... well... I don't think they're quite as happy.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Do Not Open 'til X-Mas
With two months and five days left until Christmas, a very disgruntled UPS man dropped Mason's present off this afternoon. Luckily Mason was napping, so I grabbed the box, carried it into the apartment and hid it on the top shelf in the closet.
Just kidding. I didn't carry it anywhere. That box was HUGE. No wonder the UPS man was looking so salty after climbing all those stairs. Estimated weight in box = 70 pounds. I drug the thing inside the door and, well, that's where it sits.
Mason sat on and climbed over that box all afternoon but, thankfully, didn't seem to recognize it as anything other than a cardboard box. What is it, you ask?
I suppose I may have gotten a little ahead of myself. I mean, Mase is too young to start snooping for presents yet... but how am I going to keep myself from at least peeking into the box for sixty-five more days?! I should have waited 'til at least November.
Just kidding. I didn't carry it anywhere. That box was HUGE. No wonder the UPS man was looking so salty after climbing all those stairs. Estimated weight in box = 70 pounds. I drug the thing inside the door and, well, that's where it sits.
Mason sat on and climbed over that box all afternoon but, thankfully, didn't seem to recognize it as anything other than a cardboard box. What is it, you ask?
I suppose I may have gotten a little ahead of myself. I mean, Mase is too young to start snooping for presents yet... but how am I going to keep myself from at least peeking into the box for sixty-five more days?! I should have waited 'til at least November.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Haven't You Always Wanted a MonKEY?!
New trick of the week (besides growing teeth, that is.. this kid's had four teeth pop through in the past two weeks!) climbing EVERYTHING.
This can't be good.
This can't be good.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Tubby Time for Two
Aimee, Jeff, and Mads watched Mase for me on Friday night while I worked. Bath time was the highlight of the evening.
Apparently everything was going great until Mason started sporting the permanent kissy-face he's been flashing around lately...
And Madelynn... well, Madelynn did what any sensible girl would do. She kissed him. Which made Mason slightly upset.
Which led to hugging and consoling and probably near-drowning and, ultimately, separation. Which made Mads really upset.
Apparently everything was going great until Mason started sporting the permanent kissy-face he's been flashing around lately...
And Madelynn... well, Madelynn did what any sensible girl would do. She kissed him. Which made Mason slightly upset.
Which led to hugging and consoling and probably near-drowning and, ultimately, separation. Which made Mads really upset.
Those babies definitely love each other.
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Water Sports
I take Mason into the shower with me every morning now so I don't have to risk another Toilet Flushing Extravaganza. He loves it, and honestly I'd rather have shampoo bottles dropped on my toes for ten minutes than have another overflowing mess to deal with.
But anyway, remember my post from two days ago? The floaters in the bathtub? Well this morning Mason left a turd on the shower floor. And then, during bath tonight - yep, another poop.
And this time it was a soft one. Nothing like brown bath water. Eww*.
*Which, by the way, was Mason's new word of the day:
"Ewww", directed at a Daddy Long Legs.
But anyway, remember my post from two days ago? The floaters in the bathtub? Well this morning Mason left a turd on the shower floor. And then, during bath tonight - yep, another poop.
And this time it was a soft one. Nothing like brown bath water. Eww*.
*Which, by the way, was Mason's new word of the day:
"Ewww", directed at a Daddy Long Legs.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
Mase and Hay
I told Krissy I'd babysit Haylie for a couple hours the other afternoon, and I figured while I had them together I'd take them outside and get some cute fall pictures sitting in the leaves or something.
The kiddos had other ideas.
Okay, so they're cute anyway. But trying to get a 16-month-old and a 25-month-old to sit still and look at the camera at the same time is pretty much impossible. And yikes, after only three hours of trying to keep up with his big cousin, Mason's running. He's so fast, too. This can't be good for me.
Okay, so they're cute anyway. But trying to get a 16-month-old and a 25-month-old to sit still and look at the camera at the same time is pretty much impossible. And yikes, after only three hours of trying to keep up with his big cousin, Mason's running. He's so fast, too. This can't be good for me.
The Toilet Saga and Why You Should Always Be Nice to Maintenance
Two weeks ago, when my toilet was overflowing all over the floor every time I flushed, maintenance came over and extracted a toothbrush from the depths of the pipes. Luckily, Denny the Maintenance Man knows us by name and calls Mason his "little buddy", so we didn't get charged for Mase's toothbrush/flushing experiment.
In case you were wondering, the toilet doesn't usually sit in the middle of the room like that.
Ten minutes later, Denny reemerged with these:
Apparently there were about seven pennies and a nickel involved, too. I still don't think he charged us.
Someone please remind me to get Denny a Christmas present.
I swear, a toilet lock has been on my Walmart list for weeks.
Unfortunately, they don't have them. Neither does Target. Or Home Depot. I was still on the hunt for them when, last Wednesday, my toilet mysteriously stopped flushing again. I almost cried. God, Denny was going to think I was the worst, most inattentive mom in the world, and what's worse than people who are practically strangers thinking you can't even keep an eye on your own kid? I used the other bathroom for two days before I finally got up the courage to tell Denny my toilet was broken again (after I tried to reach into the pipes myself - seriously, I was up to my elbows in toilet water - I was that desperate). He said he'd be over after the weekend, so I put Mason's new bathtub crayons to use and didn't let that baby within ten feet of the toilet.
Well, except long enough to take this picture:
Unfortunately, they don't have them. Neither does Target. Or Home Depot. I was still on the hunt for them when, last Wednesday, my toilet mysteriously stopped flushing again. I almost cried. God, Denny was going to think I was the worst, most inattentive mom in the world, and what's worse than people who are practically strangers thinking you can't even keep an eye on your own kid? I used the other bathroom for two days before I finally got up the courage to tell Denny my toilet was broken again (after I tried to reach into the pipes myself - seriously, I was up to my elbows in toilet water - I was that desperate). He said he'd be over after the weekend, so I put Mason's new bathtub crayons to use and didn't let that baby within ten feet of the toilet.
Well, except long enough to take this picture:
Denny arrived early this morning with the little snake tool that easily got the toothbrush out in five minutes last time. He went into the bathroom, and after about twenty-five minutes passed and I hadn't heard from him, I started to get worried. He came out looking slightly annoyed, and when he went out to his van, Mase and I took a peek at what was going on in the bathroom.
Oh. my. gosh.
Ten minutes later, Denny reemerged with these:
Apparently there were about seven pennies and a nickel involved, too. I still don't think he charged us.
Someone please remind me to get Denny a Christmas present.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Too Fast, Too Cold, and Too Smart
I haven't read the manual for my new lens yet, but I'm still trying to get the hang of it. I'm pretty sure the shutter speed is a little faster than my old one, because I keep getting pictures of Mase that look like this:
and this:
and my personal favorite:
Yesterday it was cold outside. Freezing. And I kept telling Mase, "It's so cold out here!" and "brrrr!" Next thing I knew, every time I said the word cold, he'd say, "brrr!" That's not just repeating a word I say. That's... saying something and getting it and conversing... just genius.
and this:
and my personal favorite:
Yesterday it was cold outside. Freezing. And I kept telling Mase, "It's so cold out here!" and "brrrr!" Next thing I knew, every time I said the word cold, he'd say, "brrr!" That's not just repeating a word I say. That's... saying something and getting it and conversing... just genius.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Pretty Baby
Mason's constantly being called a girl. He can be decked out in blue and carrying a Tonka truck while eating bugs in the driveway and someone will still walk up to us and say "ohmygosh, she's so adorable, what's her name?" Last week, at the Waffle Shop, when I told the woman in the booth next to us that "she" was a boy she said, "Really?! He's way too pretty to be a boy". And it's true. Mase is pretty.
Pretty manly.
Yesterday Aimee and I took the babies to Kid to Kid - an awesome store that sells second-hand baby clothes and toys. I take my purchases to the register - five pairs of sweatpants and one pair of jeans, all Baby Gap and Old Navy - $22.50. Amazing. When the woman gets to the last pair of sweatpants she says, "you know these are girl's, don't you?" First of all, they were blue. Light blue. Second, I lied, she didn't say that. She SCREAMED it loudly enough for every other bargain shopper in the world to hear. Unwilling to let myself be humiliated by the checkout woman, I mumbled "Uh, yeah, I know that", and let her charge me $4.50 for a pair of girl's Baby Gap sweatpants while she kept rambling about how she noticed I'd bought a lot of boy's stuff and that was why she just wanted to make sure I knew that THOSE ARE GIRL'S SWEATPANTS. I would have paid her double if she would have shut up for thirty seconds.
So I put them on Mase today, for no other reason than to prove that checkout lady wrong. I mean, really, what's the difference between baby boy's sweatpants and baby girl's sweatpants. Nothing, right?
Doesn't matter. He's still pretty.
Pretty adorable.
Pretty manly.
Yesterday Aimee and I took the babies to Kid to Kid - an awesome store that sells second-hand baby clothes and toys. I take my purchases to the register - five pairs of sweatpants and one pair of jeans, all Baby Gap and Old Navy - $22.50. Amazing. When the woman gets to the last pair of sweatpants she says, "you know these are girl's, don't you?" First of all, they were blue. Light blue. Second, I lied, she didn't say that. She SCREAMED it loudly enough for every other bargain shopper in the world to hear. Unwilling to let myself be humiliated by the checkout woman, I mumbled "Uh, yeah, I know that", and let her charge me $4.50 for a pair of girl's Baby Gap sweatpants while she kept rambling about how she noticed I'd bought a lot of boy's stuff and that was why she just wanted to make sure I knew that THOSE ARE GIRL'S SWEATPANTS. I would have paid her double if she would have shut up for thirty seconds.
So I put them on Mase today, for no other reason than to prove that checkout lady wrong. I mean, really, what's the difference between baby boy's sweatpants and baby girl's sweatpants. Nothing, right?
Doesn't matter. He's still pretty.
Pretty adorable.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
