And He Made It to Age 2…

There are only so many times you want to find yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test in shock.  Frankly, that number would probably be a big fat “zero” for me.  Yet, that’s exactly what I was doing in the late winter of 2009.  A pregnancy test in one hand and a 3 month old in the other…

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” ~Proverbs 16:9

 

At exactly 3:02 PM on December 12, 2009, we welcomed our precious Chase into this world.

 

Overwhelming at times? Yes.  Humbling always? Yes.  Would I have it any other way? No.

Happy Birthday, Chasey-Bear!  We love you!

**Note: Whether it’s an afternoon of being born or playing around the house, his mouth is almost always open and there’s usually [loud] noise coming out of it.**

Lost In Translation

The problem with even the most learned and verbose 2 year old seems to be the epic gap between what you tell them and what they repeat to others.  Clarification: NOT qualifying my son among the most learned … most verbose?  Possibly, but not so much with the smarts at this point.

Example of what I mean: an altercation between my boys this week …

Chase and Aidan had both been standing in the doorway of their room and Chase wanted to leave the room, so he did.  Problem: Chase is unaware of his size or anything he comes into contact with as he moves towards a desired goal.  Therefore, it’s not unusual for him to literally walk into, over, and practically through either of his siblings.  Aidan, perceiving a physical grievance (is accidental body slamming a grievance?) screamed and said “Chasey hit me!”.  Having seen the entire thing, I could vouch for Chase’s having NOT hit him, but rather steam-rolled him.  However, semantics are immaterial in the face of 2 year old indignation.  In other news, “hit” is apparently a term used for all physical contact.  [Must file that one away in the parental memory bank.]

Putting my best parental foot forward, I spoke with Aidan about how his brother hadn’t meant to hurt him…that it had been an accident, but that he could and should go and talk to Chase and tell him that he’d been hurt.  [Pretty sure all he heard was “Aidan, blah, blah, accident, blah, blah”] 

The next thing I heard was Aidan tracking Chase down in the living room for a brotherly confrontation: 

“Chase!”

“Uh!” [this is how Chase responds to Aidan screaming his name across the room – I think it’s a cross between “What do you want?” and “Really? If you wanted to talk to me, you’d come sit on me, so as you’re still across the room, I don’t care yet”]

“Chase, you are an accident!  Did you hear me, Chase?  You are an ACCIDENT!”

“Uh!”

Hmm, I think we missed something …

Friday Five as the Saturday Six

I was thinking about the “Friday Five” yesterday … I really was!  Somehow the day got away from me though. 

This week, it’s a picture kind of Friday Five.  It’s in the air or something.  And because I’m such a blog-crastinator, I give you the “Friday Five: as the Saturday Six edition” …

Bob: this is how you’ll often find my husband.  Deep in news, political, and/or theological thought; even while watching the kids.  The man’s brain is a sponge.   Don’t believe me?  You should check out his blog

Ellie:  because it was a crazy week, and because I was behind the camera and didn’t think about it, and because I’d really love for you to think of me this way and not as the crazed, pony-tail and glasses wearing, covered in throw-up, spit-up or some other kind of body function person … here’s my picture for the week.  This is what I really look like.  Every day.  As a I keep my immaculate house and cook my husband 5-course dinners every night.  [stifling maniacal laughter]  By the way, this is me with my cousin Emily – a gorgeous woman inside and out.  Sorry to wrangle you into this post, Em … I couldn’t find a picture of just me all dolled up. 

Darcy:  On Friday, Darcy’s accomplishment was undoubtedly dressing herself.  Let me just say … she does this by herself with great success in normal wardrobe choices all the time, but yesterday, something happened.  I don’t know what, but it was so completely clothes-tacular that I couldn’t resist documenting it here.  Darcy, I apologize to your 18 year old self in advance.  Here’s the front …

Note:  Yes, those are Christmas socks.  They’re actually adult socks that her grandmother gave to her to use as sock puppets or something and she loves them so much that she wears them year round, hiking them up to her knees with little “this is the place for your ankle” bubbles halfway up the back of her leg. 

And the back …

Truly a proud parenting moment. 

Aidan:  Aid hates the camera.  He loves looking at pictures after they are taken, but he has totally disconnected from the concept that you need to stand in front of the camera if you want to see yourself in a picture.  Which is why over 90% of our pictures look like this …

I *can’t wait* for the Christmas card picture. [please sense the dripping sarcasm]  In other news, Aidan is obsessed with ants.   I could grow a beard walking down the average sidewalk because we have to stop and look at EVERY. SINGLE. ANT.  He especially likes to try poking at them or picking them up.  Although, last night, he informed Bob and I that he was “petting the ant” -wait for it- “with his shoe“.  We laughed even as we heard the sound of future college scholarships getting flushed down the toilet. 

Chase: the big news for Chase is that he had his first hair cut this week!  [you should be both proud of me and relieved that I didn’t subject you to the “my baby’s first hair cut” blog as I’d originally threatened]  As cute as the old-man-hair-over-his-ears-meets-the-mullet look was, it was time … it was time. 

And since it’s the Saturday Six edition this week … here’s a picture of the youngest: clearly just chillin’.  Blissfully unaware of the crazy family he’s about to inhabit …

Have a great picture that defines your week?  Feel free to link to it in the comment section below.

Have a great weekend!