11 in '11

2011 is almost under our belts and to ring in the New Year, I thought I'd reflect on the year and share some of my revelations from 2011. 

1. My husband is exempt from the rule about not waking a sleeping baby.

2. I liked my old job....but not that much.

3. Stories in the news about parents who hurt their children are even more unfathomable after having a child of my own.

4. Alarm clocks are useless and unnecessary.

5. There is nothing sweeter than a sleeping baby

6.  Women are not responsible for what they say in the delivery room...and apparently neither are husbands (remember Eric's promise? Yeah, he forgot, too).

7.  Changing your own child's diaper really isn't that bad...unless that child only goes once a week.

8.  There are lots of useless baby gear on the market.  The bouncy seat that hangs in the doorway is not one of them.  Thanks to it, and to my neighbor who passed it on to us, (thanks Scarlet!) I shower regularly.

9. It is not possible to will a baby to sleep.

9b. Whoever coined the term "sleeping like a baby" either wasn't a parent or they fed their baby opiates.

10. Post-baby, when you do stupid things, instead of blaming it on the color of your hair, you can blame it on lack of sleep and you'll get a free pass.

11. Life doesn't end when you have a baby (as some will lead you to believe), it begins.

It will be hard to top 2011, but I'm hoping for good things in 2012.  Happy New Year!

Christmas in Iowa

I've spent many Christmas' in Iowa, but this may have been the most fun.  I usually use Christmas vacation as an excuse to sleep in, but this year, courtesy of Brady, we were usually the first to rise!

My good friend, Shelby, came over for brunch on Friday morning.  She is from Iowa, but I met her in North Carolina, of all places.  She was my first roommate but I knew little about her before moving in with her when I first moved to NC.  This was before facebook was big, so I didn't have adequate time to stalk her.  I just knew her name was Shelby and she lived on a farm in Iowa...expectations were low, but she definitely exceeded them.  She now back on a farm in Iowa and has a sweet 1 year old named Thomas.  He joined the circus that was our house and fit right in!

It didn't snow in Iowa, but that didn't stop us from dressing up Brady in his snow gear.

Getting 3 kids under 2 in a photo is no easy feat.

It seems that Brady has a good memory.  Back in August, Leo took advantage of Brady's docile nature showed him who the older cousin was.

Brady was a little less passive this time and decided Leo was due for a little payback.

After eating Leo's head (I told you he liked hair), he hit him where it really hurt.  Steal the pacifier, suffer the consequences. 

Actually, the cousins got along great.  Leo and Emma had fun running around chasing each other.  Emma, who is refreshingly honest, didn't have much use for Brady.  Leo paid him a little more attention. 

The day after Christmas, we decided to go ice skating.  When I asked Eric if he was any good at ice skating, his response was, "I'm an athlete."

Athleticism at its finest

I really wish we had video evidence, because this picture doesn't do him justice.  Eric's legs were sore afterwards from skating running on ice and my stomach was sore from laughing. 

Luckily for Eric, my dad is also very "athletic" so he had someone to hug the guardrail with. 

A post wouldn't not be complete without discussions of Brady's bathroom habits.  Lucky for you, no visuals will be included.  Brady and I got very familiar with airport changing stations on the way out to Iowa.  By the time we arrived in Des Moines, he had nothing left and it took him a few days to reload.  Before we were headed out to the airport on Monday evening, he relieved himself.  Then, we're on the airplane heading out...seat belts on, electronic devices off, poor Brady got as red as Rudolph's nose.  Eric made the quick decision to take Brady back and change him in the spacious airplane bathroom, risking ridicule from other patients as he threatened to delay take-off time.  Crisis averted.  We landed about an hour later in Chicago and I smelled something a little foul.  It was very difficult to determine if Brady had gone again, because the passenger in front of us smelled worse than Brady's butt on his worst day.  They keep implementing these fancy screening measures and I don't think it would be too much to suggest that passengers should have to pass a smell test to pass through security.  Anyway, we had to sit on the runway in Chicago for almost 45 minutes.  Brady was sleeping peacefully and I knew there would be no going back if we decided to change him again.  So, lucky mom, I got to sit on the runway with a smelly baby on my lap and smelly passenger in front of me.

Stinky people aside, the trip to Iowa was wonderful.  Last year on Christmas, we found out Brady was going to be a boy.  This year, we got to spend Christmas with that boy, which is the best gift I could have asked for.

Letters to Brady: 7 months

Dear Brady,

2011 is coming to a close but there are still lots of things to be done before we ring in the New Year.  First off, your first trip to Iowa!  Fair warning...it's cold.  Your dad bought you some new Timberlands so you could tramp around outside (yes, I realize you're not even crawling yet...don't tell you dad).  Unfortunately, the forecast is not calling for anything more than flurries so we may have to hold off on introducing you to snow.  Also on the agenda...Christmas!  You'll be spending your first one with a full house.  2 grandparents, 2 aunts, 2 uncles, 2 cousins, 2 parents, and 2 dogs.  You'll get a nice break from just seeing my boring face all day.

I feel like we've gotten to know each other pretty well these last seven months.  I told your dad the other day that I really like you.  He looked at me like I was dumb...like, of course you do, he's your son.  Did you think you wouldn't?  The truth is, I knew I'd love you and I thought I'd probably like you...but I've seen enough parent/child interactions to know that the latter is not necessarily a given.  But I like you, and I like you a lot.  I think even if you weren't my son, we'd be friends.

Here are a few things I like about you.  This list is not exhaustive, but you should get the drift.  I like how you sneeze when you go outside.  I like the bad face you make whenever you take the first bite of something, even if it's something you like.  I like how you eat your feet.  I like how you suck your thumb when you're sleepy.  I like how you sleep with your butt in the air.  I like when you sleep on my chest.  I like the sounds you make when you sleep.  I like how you can sleep anywhere.  I like how you smile at strangers.  I like how you'll let anyone hold you.  I like how you travel well.  I like your big blue eyes.  I like your two front teeth (but don't like how you choose to use them).  I like how you smell after a bath.  I like your babble.  I like your laugh.  I like when you can't decide to laugh or cry.  I like your gummy smile.  I even like your sad face (and apologize when dad and I laugh at it).

Know that I'll always love you and if you keep it up, I'll keep on liking you too.

Love,
Mom

What's so funny?

I'm not a particularly funny person.  I'll make a good joke every so often and although I frequently crack myself up, I do not have any mistaken notions that I'll end up as the next Chelsea Handler.  Do me a favor though, and please do not tell this to Brady.  The boy will laugh at my faces, noises and jokes all day long.

However, as you can see in the video below, Brady doesn't seem too discriminatory when it comes to things that tickle his funny bone.  This happened tonight when I was feeding him.  I wasn't making any faces, wasn't even doing the favorite "airplane in the mouth" routine, but Brady just thought life was hysterical.

Like many things, he seems to take this trait from his dad.  If you know Eric, you know he's a laugher and it doesn't take much to get him going. 

Although, strangely, he never seems to laugh at my jokes.  I don't care.  Brady thinks I'm funny and I'll take that over a Comedy Central contract any day.

Stray hairs, stray hands, and a blue Santa

My husband informed me last night that I was slacking on my blog.  It sort of reminds me of how he keeps insisting that we do a Christmas card, but when determining who will order the cards, address the cards, lick the stamps, etc...a certain someone seems to fade into the background.  I asked if he'd like to be a guest columnist since he had a problem with my lack of posts, but needless to say, this fingers didn't find the keyboard.  But he is right, of course, and I apologize for the absence.  Part of it is lack of material, part of it lack of time, and most of it due to the fact that my free time has been spent reading "The Girl Who Played With Fire."  I'm done with it, but tt's the 2nd of the trilogy, so after I check the last one out at the library, you might not be hearing from me for a while.

Anyway, nothing groundbreaking to report in the Hoots household.  The day started out rough, got rougher, and ended well.  Brady has been doing better with sleeping...on a good night waking up once around 11 and another time around 3.  This I can handle.  Last night, he woke up at 10, 12:30, 3, and 5:15.  I have no idea what makes a child sleep well(this is relative in our house) one night and terribly the next, but if you know, please let me in on the secret.  And if you know how to make him sleep, I'll pay you for the secret.

I left Brady with a babysitter this afternoon.  I'm writing one article each month for the Tar Heel Monthly and my latest series of articles have consisted of me going and participating in various sports at Carolina.  I've done the Art of the Kill (volleyball), the Art of the Bout (fencing), and my latest assignment is on basketball, and what makes a Division player different from someone like say, me.  I was supposed to practice with the team today and when I showed up, there was apparently a bit of a miscommunication between the head coach and her assistant who I set this up with as to what I would be doing.  Coach Hatchell thought I was only going to be watching practice and not participating.  This posed a problem, because apparently I'd need to be "cleared" in order to make this happen which would consist of a physical with their team doctor.  Needless to say, when dealing with babysitters and deadlines and Christmas break, this wasn't what I wanted to hear this afternoon.  So, while I didn't enjoy wasting a babysitter and my afternoon, my body was thankful for sparing it, because it is certainly not in basketball shape.

We had our Rams Club Christmas Family Party tonight...they still invite me to this since I'm still doing some part time work with them.  Blue Santa made his annual appearance.  Since we haven't subjected Brady to mall Santa yet, so we took the photo opportunity.

With a slight adjustment, it could be real Santa. 

Guess we don't need a mall visit.

We took a family photo with Santa as well.



There is a few things that will ensure that this become a family picture favorite of mine 1) There is a stray hand in the picture that is approaching dangerous territory.  This is funny to me because although there were lots of kiddos running around, I don't remember anyone nearing our picture and I have no idea who's hand that belongs to.  You'd think that little hand would be reaching for Santa rather than Eric, but apparently some unknown child prefers Eric.  2) Brady is trying to eat Brady's beard.  This is fairly standard.  Brady is obsessed with hair...usually its hair on the head (mine specifically), but he doesn't discriminate and it appears he will accept facial hair as well.  Brady loves to suck his thumb and when he does this, it is usually a pretty good indicator that it's nap time.  Lately, the thumb on its own hasn't been tasting as good as the thumb with my hair mixed in.  He goes after it with impressive determination.  If it wasn't so annoying, it would be pretty funny.  I'll admit, there has been an occasion or two when I want him to be quiet, so I'll give in and let my hair be sucked.  Five gold stars for this mom for reinforcing good habits.

And speaking of hair, I had always heard that your hair is at its thickest when you're pregnant.  What nobody told me, was that after you have the baby, your hair falls out.  The fact that this happens naturally coupled with the fact that I have a child who loves to pull my hair results in fistfuls of hair and lots more vacuuming in the Hoots household.  While I'll never understand (and hopefully never wear) mom jeans, I do understand mom hair and why people chop it off after having kids.  Eric is not too keen on that prospect...and I have been wanting him to keep our room a little cleaner lately.   Bargaining tool?

Don't judge me.

Same kid, new tricks

When he's not helping mom steal pictures or jetsetting around the country, Brady is enjoying life from a new found seated position.  There are pianos to play and hoops to shoot (or eat, in Brady's case).

While this can hardly be classified as crawling (except in the army), Brady has learned to scoot...if there is an object that intrigues him enough. 

Two points from perfect

Brady and I had an exciting Saturday followed by a relaxing Sunday.  Saturday, we flew out of Chapel Hill Airport at 8 am bound for Kentucky to watch the Tar Heels play.  Eric and I were discussing the other day about how the biggest luxury in life is to own your own plane.  We're a few dollars short of that goal, but we will certainly settle for the second best thing...knowing someone who owns one. 

Hey mom, can we get one of these for Christmas?

The trip was a breeze.  Conveniently, there is a hotel connected to Rupp Arena, so we arrived and went up to Eric's room.  We got to say hello to him before he left for the game and Brady (and myself) took a nap.  Brady and I walked to the arena around 11:30, and as I handed the ticket-taker my ticket, she looked at Brady and asked me where his ticket was.  I was waiting for a "haha, just kidding" to follow, but she was very serious (as serious as an old lady in a blue Santa hat could be).  I thought almost every arena in America had an under 2 free rule, but apparently, not so in Lexington.

Hmm, that's a problem.  #1 Kentucky vs. #5 UNC, not exactly a ticket you can go buy at the ticket window.  Is Brady big enough to fit in my diaper bag?  Can I smuggle him in in my coat?   

Luckily, I went to player-guest will call and one of the parents found out they couldn't come last minute.  So it turns out, I didn't have to leave him alone in the hotel room.

The game was awesome, as was the atmosphere.  Brady seemed to enjoy all the lights and action, although I'm glad we had some earplugs for him, because the place was loud.  We made it back to Chapel Hill before dinnertime, and we were only two points away from making it a perfect trip.

Guilt-free Friday

I took my friend Amy's advice and called Walgreens to settle up on my bill.  Like she predicted, the young man who answered the phone didn't seem too keen on taking my money.  Here's how our convo went:

Me: Hi, I came in the store the other day to pick up pictures and I wasn't charged for them.  Can you take my credit card over the phone?

Him: It was just 5 or 6 prints, right?

Me: Um, no, actually it was more than that.

Him:  Well, you had to wait, right?

Me:  Um, well, I guess I did have to wait a bit (I waited at all 3 Walgreen's though, so this seemed to be standard practice).

Him:  Yeah, that's why we didn't charge you for them.

Hmm, I don't know if he had me confused with someone or was just giving me an out.  Either way, I'm $20 richer and can now sleep better at night.

Well, I could if it weren't for a certain baby who thinks he runs things around here.