Da ball



Brady has greatly expanded his vocabulary.  Instead of "ball" all day, every day, he now says, "da ball."  We're making great strides.

 

Balls have become a full blown obsession.  And it appears he might be a lefty, which of course, thrills his father.

 



 



Iowa life

It's been a while since I accosted you with my vacation photos (2 weeks at least).  We went to Iowa last weekend for Molly's wedding, and once I got past the initial flight, it was great!

Here is Brady in our backyard. The apple Brady is eating was picked up off the ground. I have terrible memories of picking up apples from the trees in our backyard. The whole ones were easy, but many would be split open and bees would be swarming. My dad enjoyed torture, however, and did not see a couple (I swear there were at least a million) bees as a good reason why I shouldn't pick up the apples. I'm glad to see the apple trees are finally bringing joy to someone.

 

Also note the clothes line on the left part of the screen.  Is there anyone you know who still hangs out their clothes?  That's another backyard task I loved growing up. 

  

 

My friend Shelby, and her little boy and new baby girl came over to play.  I love this picture of Thomas and Brady.

 

 

Brady has never met a body of water he hasn't liked  This is a fountain in downtown Des moines.  Grandma was more than willing to take off Brady's pants and roll up her own.



 

 

Great shirt, cute model.

 

 

While I was doing my bridesmaid duties, Eric and my parents took Brady to the Iowa State Fair, featured in the book "1,000 Place to See Before You Die."  After seeing some of the food choices, its not a stretch to say you're bit closer to death after you leave.

 

 

This is Brady connecting with his Iowa routes.

 

 

And the main event!  The wedding (and bride) was beautiful.  I went to high school and college with Molly so it was great to see lots of friends from different periods of my life.  This is a picture of my senior year roommates from Trinity.  Two girls from Kansas living with two girls from Iowa at school in Texas!

 

After traveling 7 of the last 8 weekends, its great to finally be home for a while.  This summer was a blur, but a fun one!

Thank God the bathroom had Kleenex.

A basic life principle: The more you do something, the better you get.
A basic baby principle: Life principles do not apply.

Brady is well traveled for his 15 months on earth.  He's seen California, Florida, Kentucky, Texas, New York, Missouri, Georgia, Illinois and Iowa.  At this point, flying should be a breeze, no?  Let's just say "road trip" is going to become a common part of our vernacular.

Let's revisit our latest flight and find out why.

While I appreciate the early boarding for families traveling with small infants, unless you're vying for carry-on space or flying Southwest, no thanks.  Let me board last please, right before the gate closes.  It's a matter of mathmatics:  minimzie the time spent on the plane and minimize the pain. 

As Brady and I "settle" (this is laughable) into our seat in 9D en route to Des Moines from Charlotte (the flight from Raleigh to Charlotte was bearable), I smile kindly at the lady next to us, knowing I'll need an ally.  Keeping Brady "settled" on this flight would take nothing less than a tranquilizer gun...and it was not on the in-flight menu.

I remember I need to call my mom to let her know the flight is on time. I attempt to talk quickly but I am too late.  Brady grabs the phone and throws it on the floor.  This is only the beginning.

I pull out the big guns early.  Food: the perfect distraction.  Brady took a generous bite of the sandwich I'd packed with love. He spit it out, grabbed the regurgitated bread, and threw it at the nice lady sitting next to us.  I spot a ringless finger, indicating there there is a good chance she herself does not have kids.  Which means her gross-out standard is probably higher than those of us who spit/vomited/pooped on on a regular basis.  She politely removes the bread from her lap (I don't make an awkward situation more so by volunteering to do so myself) and I say something really thoughtful like, "I'm really sorry...but at least its just bread," like that is supposed to somehow make it less gross?

The lady waits a polite two minutes before asking if we'd be more comfortable if she took the empty seat at the back of the plane.  "Well, don't feel like you need to do that," I say but leave her an out, "But of course, having the extra seat would be great and you might be more comfortable back there."  We part ways, each smiling at our good luck.  Brady jumps in her seat, thrilled at his new found freedom.  It is short-lived and the lady is banished from the backseat and sent back to hell 9C.

Have I mentioned we are still on the ground?

10 minutes into the flight and I'm exhausted.  I'm trying to smile because I hear if you smile you'll be happy even if you're not happy inside.  That's a load of crap.

I smell something lethal, and its not the engine fuel.  The lady next to me might not have kids, but she smells it too and knows what's going on.  She waits until the cart passes, stands up, and lets me out.  I take Brady to the bathroom and pull down the changing table.  I get a quick laugh at the thought of someone over 6 foot attempting to change their baby in a space created for midgets. 

But back to the job at hand.  I knew from the smell it would be bad.  A multi-wipe diaper for sure.  My goals when changing a dirty diaper are always two fold: keep Brady from grabbing his butt and keep him from rolling around (both of which he does with regularity).  This is a difficult task - if I give him a toy and he'll do the same thing he did with my cell phone and his food.  But at a mile high, the stakes are high.  Right above his head and just within reach is a tissue dispenser coming out from the wall like a gift from God. Take one and the next one pops out ready.  Brady grabs one, then another, then another, then another.  1 minute and 47 tissues later, my mission is complete. Thank you US Airways, for your tissue placement.

We return to our seat, the flight attendant hijacks Brady (who of course, I willingly give up) and he parades Brady around the airplane.  Brady makes friends with everyone (a peace offering?) and the flight attendant hands him back to me.  Back so soon?  I offer to change jobs. I know all about the emergency exists, oxygen masks, flotations devices, and I can pour a killer Ginger Ale. 

We rough it through the next 30 minutes or so.  We're opening windows, shutting windows,  playing with the air vents, shopping in SkyMall, and eventually, Brady's energy begins to wane.  Slowly he fades until eventually, he passes out into a peaceful sleep.

The plane erupts in applause.

Or maybe that was just me.

Will I am

Right around the time Brady started walking, he came down with something.  It wasn't the flu or a cold, but something nothing less difficult to cure. 

Brady has a will.

That's right, Brady knows what he wants.  Good, right? Yes, of course.  I mean, we all have been faced with the pain of sitting there with our spouse, both hungry but not being able to figure out what it is we want.  How frustrating!  Ah, but to say, I need chicken nachos from Armadillo Grill for lunch today.  Such decisiveness!  So satisfying!

So Brady, it's good to know what you want, but the problem comes when 1) nobody knows what you're "saying" 2) we know what you're saying but what you're asking for is unreasonable.

The lightbulb is definitely on in Brady's head and where he lived the first portion of his life in ignorant bliss, he's tuned in and pretty much has life figured out.

There are some advantages to this.  For instance, now when he approaches a step, he reaches for my hand to help him step down, rather than attempting to walk the plank.

Meal times are a new challenge.  Whenever Brady is in the kitchen, he's "Mmm"ing and pointing at the refrigerator.  "Mmm" is his 2nd favorite word (behind ball) and if figuring what he wants was an Olympic sport, I'd be lucky to take home the bronze.  In general he just wants whatever is on my plate.  Even though the same thing is generally on his plate, he doesn't seem to grasp that concept and I have to make a big showing of the food going off my plate on to his, or just let him eat whatever I'm eating.

Some other things his little brain has figured out:

-Credit cards.  Every time I go to the store, he grabs my card and attempts to swipe.  Scary.

-Cell phones.  Give him one and he puts it on his left shoulder and starts to talk.  He had a breakdown the other day because my phone started ringing while Brady was "talking" on it.  It was Eric calling, so I put him on speaker phone, thinking that would placate him, but Brady insisted on the shoulder-hold, which resulted in a lost call.

-Socializing. Like the cell phone talking, I'll credit Eric for this trait.  Brady has never met a stranger and is constantly pointing, waving, and talking to people, regardless of their interest in him.   He may get fussy if we're in an aisle in the grocery store by ourselves, but roll past some other people and his demeanor changes. Brady's never been unhappy in the checkout lane because there is always someone there for him to "talk" to.

Well Brady William, you're finally living up to your name!

A gold-medal sleeper who only performs while his parents are away

I've heard parents talk about how their kids are little angels when they are in the care of others but turn into devils at home.  I used to think that was a myth, or at least that it couldn't be true for someone only a year old...but then I had Brady.

Thankfully, this truism only holds true for Brady's sleeping habits.  Last weekend, Eric's parents kept Brady for the weekend and they told me that he slept until 7:45 one morning.  He's done that....never.  But flukes do happen.  And of course, he slept through the night both nights, which he was doing about half the time back home.

This past weekend, Brady headed back to Newton for three nights with his grandparents, while we lived it up in the Dominican Republic.  We got a few email updates and surprise, surprise, Brady had slept in until 7:40!  And slept through the night every night!  His earliest wake up call for the weekend was 6:45, still better than most mornings at home.  I may have chalked it up to the crib, or the room, but that theory was debunked since all of us stayed in Newton on Thursday night to before our Friday flight.  Brady was up bright and early at 6am to see us off!

So fast forward to last night, when he finally got to sleep in his own bed.  At 2am, I hear cries from Brady's room.  I give him a few minutes to calm himself and he settles down after a few minutes.  I sigh, fall back asleep myself, and wake up 30 minutes later to some very angry cries.  I relented and went in to get Brady.  He eventually went back to sleep but woke up with the roosters at 5:50!

And today, he did nothing to make up for the early morning.  He took two short naps, nothing like the three-hour one he supposedly took yesterday.  He's done that never (maybe once).

Should I be concerned that my in-laws are drugging my son?  Or should I just ask for their dealer?

I'm thankful Brady slept so well for his grandparents...but can't he share the love?

Enough about sleeping, I realize that listening as moms drone on about their child's sleeping pattern is about as exciting as counting sheep (and maybe more effective).

So we made it back from the Dominican Republic and back to reality!  Ah, how good it is to be away from reality for a few days. The trip was amazing and besides a brief visit from Tropical Storm Ernesto and a long traveling day home, nothing could have made the weekend better.  We went a great group of people and I'm so happy that Eric convinced me to go on the trip (ok, so I wasn't exactly drug kicking and screaming).

The all-inclusive resort we stayed at included a group photographer with the package.  I'm kidding, but thanks to Sean, who takes 10 times as many pictures as I do (and he doesn't even have a kid yet), it felt like it.  I didn't even have to take my camera out of the case.

Next up: Iowa.  Should be an equally exotic trip!

60

My mom turned 60 yesterday.   Below is a video compiled to celebrate her 60 years.  Eric and Amy were the brains behind the operation (my brother and sister-in-law, not my husband and myself).  True to form, my brother used my mom's birthday video as an opportunity to twist my words and poke fun of his sister.  With his use of a few carefully chosen soundbites, he may want to quit his job as an attorney and join one the presidential campaigns.  Or maybe life as a lawyer suits him perfect after all.

Happy birthday Mom!