February 1, 2012
Liam turned two this weekend and I find myself wondering how did we get here so fast. I wish I could slow time down. The last two years have flown by faster than I imagined. I still remember so vividly the day he came into our lives and our world was turned upside-down, in a good way, as we were sent down the path of parenthood. And what a fantastic journey it has been so far.
With Liam’s birthday being so close to Christmas, it’s hard to get my act together after the holiday’s to throw a party. I usually drag my feet. It feel so odd having a birthday so close to a major gift giving holiday. Thanks for all the gifts last month, how about giving some more this month? Obviously we didn’t think a lot about that when we were in the throws of baby making. Oh well.
Because he scored a plethora of new toys at Christmas, I had to think up a way to put the kibosh on accumulating any more. We just don’t have the room and I don’t want to be taken over by a whole bunch of stuff.
I decided to throw a storybook party. Liam LOVES to read books. We don’t have a whole lot of books, and the books we do have, I could repeat to you word for word as I’ve read them multiple times a day since we received them. So when it came to making invitations (Which I didn’t, I just sent out an evite. I know. Pathetic. I procrastinated too long.), I stated that this would be a book party to build Liam’s library of books and PLEASE NO TOYS. I was a little worried about how it would be received, but it turned out to be a great party.
I enlisted the help of my mom and her friend to make some decorations with her Cricut. They cut out a full alphabet in upper case and lower case and a few stacks of books that we had taped to the walls and hanging from the ceiling along with balloons and streamers.
I also had my friend, who is the queen of cupcakes, make cupcakes instead of a cake. She normally displays her fantastic cupcakes with a cupcake tree, but I suggested that we stack a bunch of books and put them on the books. I think that was my favorite touch to the party. They just looked so cute on the books.
She also made these amazing booklets with puzzles, things to color, and places to write a story. So creative she is. We put them in a little bag with crayons, pencils, stickers, and a little rubber snake for each child that attended the party.
For his first birthday, I had designed a #1 out of balloons on the wall and I liked that so much that I did it again with a #2.
With a 2-year-old, it’s hard to sit long enough to make it through opening gifts, but we did and he got some really great books that I couldn’t wait to read to him. I think I’ll have to do a post on some of the books because they are just too cute.
My mom taught Liam how to sing Happy Birthday, so when we sang Happy Birthday to him, he sang along with us. He is a very enthusiastic and animated singer.
By the end of the party, he had found his blankey and was ready to cuddle with his mamma.
It was a memorable day. Thank you to my party planning team, mom, Priscilla, and Becki, for all your help.
All photos are courtesy of my talented friend Carrie with Carrie I Photography. Thank you!
January 17, 2012
January 12, 2012
We are a one car family. That means we don’t take very many adventures away from our neighborhood. (And our neighborhood isn’t that exciting to a almost 2 year old.) We don’t have any parks within walking distance of us that aren’t on school property, and you can’t go on school property while school is in session, so we don’t make it to the park very often either.
Today, grandma came to visit and took us to the park.
He was like a bird let out of his cage. He was free to run and play. His smile was ear to ear.
It was cold and wet, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to have fun. So he climbed through damp tunnels and slid down wet slides.
It was hard to get a picture of him because he was just on the move the whole time.
He chased the ducks and didn’t bother to stop at the edge of the water. He just went right on in to his calves. Grandma had to go in after him.
No worries. We just tossed him in the bath when we got home, fed him a good lunch, and now he’s down for the count.
January 11, 2012
I came across this post the other day and she just so simply stated what has been on my mind lately. I was again reminded of how I can let my negative self-talk take up residence in my mind. Not only do we sometimes let others infect our minds with their hurtful words, but we can allow the flood waters of our own hurtful words wash over us within the four walls of our own home.
I tend to do this often. I make a mistake, catch my reflection in a mirror, or forget something important and instantly I start tacking up 4 x 6 cards on a cork board in my brain with words like stupid, idiot, fat, and ugly on them. Let me tell you, I’m running out of room on my board. Granted, I’m just repeating the same words over and over again and they’re just overlapping each other, but still, that’s far from the point.
The point is, these are all lies the enemy wants me to believe about myself. And the more I tack up those cards, the more I actually start to believe them. Lately, I’ve just been sick and tired of beating myself over the head with these lies. (Here would be a window of opportunity to tack up anther card, but I’m refraining.) Even though it’s going to take a lot of work and discipline, and I will fail at times, I want to stop thinking negatively about myself. I want to start tacking up cards with truths on them.
So, here I go. I’m taking down the old cards and tacking up some new ones.
Chosen. Beloved. New Creation. Forgiven. Loved. A Treasure. Daughter to The King.
I challenge you to do the same because we are all guilty of this from time to time. And, if you catch a friend of yours doing this to themselves…why not gently give them a word of truth to replace the card of negativity that they are trying to hang up. Friends don’t let friends believe the lies the enemy is trying to force feed them.
A good study that I started (and never finished, but hope to) a few summers ago is Me, Myself & Lies by Jennifer Rothschild.
January 9, 2012
I am so cold. Like cold to the bone. I’m not typically someone who gets cold. I always joke that I’m going through early menopause at the ripe young age of 29 because I can have serious hot flashes and when I’m hot, everyone is almost always not.
It’s not even freezing temperatures here in the Seattle area. It’s cold, but not freezing cold. We had a very mild summer, fall, and we are even having a mild winter. Because of the mild summer last year, we only had about 1 or 2 weeks in a row of real summer sunshine with temperatures reaching the 80′s, with a few days here and there in between. Because of that, it felt like summer just never arrived.
I am dying for some sunshine and warm weather. More specifically, I want to be somewhere where there are sandy beaches to bury my toes, rolling waves the temperature of bath water, towering palm trees to shade my eyes, and where it rarely dips below 70. So basically, California, Florida, or better yet Hawaii!
Anyone want to adopt me for a while?
January 5, 2012
I had just returned to the kitchen after rummaging around in the spare room for some crafting supplies, when I heard this crash/thud from down the hall. My first thought was something had fallen in the spare room after my scavengering. But as I made my way down the hall, I stopped at Liam’s door, who had just been put down for a nap, wondering if maybe the noise had come from his room, as it had sounded closer than the back bedroom at the end of the hall. So I peaked in his room. To my surprise, I found him on the floor by his crib. The kid had scaled the railing of his crib and fell to the floor below in a heap. A wave of shock washed over me and I just stood there looking at him as he got up and, with his proud little face, walked right past me stating that he had gotten out of his crib.
To this point, he has not tried to climb out of his crib. Pack-n-play, yes. Crib, no. I’m thankful that, as far as I know, his only battle wound is a scratch on his face. Time will only tell. The only tears shed, were the ones accompanied by the realization that punishment was to follow.
I was hoping that we had a little more time before we needed to make the move to a big boy bed. Mostly because I’m not looking forward to the training that will go along with it (i.e. getting up multiple times after being put down, playing with toys instead of in bed, or waking up to little eyeballs staring back at me before I’m ready to get my lazy butt out of bed).
I knew this day would come, but I’m not ready for my baby to be old enough for a real bed. I still want to be greeted by his blue eyes and smiling face peering over the railing as I come in to get him in the morning. Instead, it will be my sleepy eyes trying to adjust to the enthusiasm of a little boy who is so proud of the fact that our roles have now reversed.