Cool website--looking for ideas for Trace's 1st Bday?

Well, my little old man, Trace, AKA Bacon, is turning 1 year old in less than two weeks! I can't believe it! Time has really flown!

So I was doing some bloghopping today while Bacon is napping, and found this neat giveaway on this site, Moms Wear Your Tees. It's really neat. I like a lot of their giveaways, so I thought I'd tell you guys about it.

This time they're giving away a stainless steel dishware set from The Soft Landing, another neat site with cool kids stuff. So if you know a young child with an upcoming birthday and are completely stumped... try entering this giveaway! And then put a bow on it! And then come to Trace's party in two weeks! It's Barnyard Animals themed! There will be cake and cake and more cake (all over my son's face!) and tons of fun!

Tumbling, Tantrums, and Tomfoolery

Random happenings... Bean went to his first Tumbling class today. Think it's girlie all you want. That poor boy has very little open to him for activities... I had wanted to start him in Karate when he turned four, but weeks before he did, the sign outside the karate place upped the age to 5... Did they hear something?

Anyway, my Bean had fun. He wasn't able to explain to me all he did today. He just couldn't find the words. He's getting very frustrated with himself lately, at not being able to express himself properly. Poor guy stutters worse than Snuggle ever did, and she went through TWO stuttering stages growing up. I am really hoping he's able to get into the pre-Kindergarten program at the Elementary School. The woman who teaches it also deals with speech problems, and I'm hoping she can give me some pointers.

Tantrums... this time I'm talking about the baby. Last night, Bacon, as usual, got first bath. It was Snuggle's turn for second bath (I switch it out with the older two), so while she soaped up, I got Bacon ready for bed. When he was dressed and ready, he took off for their bathroom. The pictures show what happened.

Now, I'm sorry, but I'm one of those people who think that it's cute when they first start throwing temper tantrums. I mean, granted, give me a few more, and they won't be nearly as novel as this first one, but still... Just look at that face! Don't you just want to squeeze him? And that poor little lip! All he wanted was ONE MORE BATH!

Okay, and one more thing. Sabre asked for bangs tonight. I was happy to oblige, thinking it would keep more hair out of her face... now I know why my mom always cut bangs on our hair. But she looks soooooo cute!

See? Isn't that stinkin' adorable? I keep saying I'm just not gonna' recognize her when that tooth in front finally grows in. It's been missing over half her life. I don't remember what she looked like before. Sabre IS Snaggletooth. Well, I probably don't have too much longer. She's already 6 1/2. Most of her friends have lost teeth and have long since grown new ones in. I better stock up on quarters. Or notes telling her to eat her veggies, written by the neighbor... Right, Mom?

Happy Birthday to You!

What? Two posts in a week? Must be important. Must be earth-shattering. Must be someone's birthday!

My older son, Jon Curtis, AKA Bean, turns 4 today. FOUR. It's so sad... I always think that four is a magical age where they cease being babies and turn into actual children. You know, the three-and-under stuff doesn't apply. No more diapers, pacis, sticking play-dough in their mouths (hang on a sec while I rescue Bacon).....

Anyway, it's days like this that remind me I'm glad I have another sticky-faced rugrat crawling around, getting into everything, keeping me from making regular blog updates. I'm not ready to give up chubby cheeks, and chubby toes, and chubby... cheeks. Which reminds me...

I have a funny milestone I look forward to with each child, and now Bacon has fallen prey to... the ACCENT! Haha. It's just funny, because neither Lee nor I have a really strong Southern accent, me especially. But sooner or later, our children come down with a case of the drawls. I was sitting at the table, eating a scrumptious breakfast of apple and coffee (hey, it's swimsuit season, Y'ALL), feeding Bacon some eggs, and he started patting them (thank you Bible Class and the "Pat the Bible" song). I automatically responded with "You're making a mess!" To which my little myna bird drawled, "MAY-ETH!" (We're still working on teeth here. And hoping to get them in time to eat birthday cake in a few weeks.) It was another instant where I wished I had my camera, to capture the look of pride on his face. (It was a much nicer look than the one minutes earlier, when he was yelling, "WAN DA!" over and over again at his brother's eggs.)

Well, I must get back to the trenches. Much to do on this important day--and only half of us are dressed!

Walker, Texas Ranger

Today marks a new stage in Bacon's life. First of all, he has become a TODDLER. Finally. Not that I necessarily wanted another sticky-fingered angel to chase around the house... But I did want him to be able to walk at his first birthday party. He took his first steps weeks, months ago, but he's now actually preferring to walk beside the objects he would have cruised along beside just days ago. So, walking... CHECK!

Also, he has become the newest bully in this family. You know how, when you have children close to the same age, and you tell the older one, "You just wait until he gets big enough to fight back!" That day has arrived for Bacon. He is now the attacker, not the attackee. I can be sitting near him as I was today, listening to Half-Pint read (from her new book, Cinderella III, Thank you, Gracie Gafford!) and notice Bacon is staring at Bean, who is not paying attention. When the slow smile begins forming on The Old Man's face... attack is imminent. Then he springs! Luckily (or unluckily at mealtime, anyway) Bacon STILL doesn't have any teeth, so I don't have to worry about bites just yet, but he sure can gum him to death. He's got the war cry, and he seems to know his best move is in using the center of his body mass to weigh Bean down, and then quickly wrapping his chubby little fist in Bean's hair and pulling with all his might! It looks like an actual wrestling match (as if I've ever seen one), especially when Bacon starts tapping his leg while he's got Bean pinned.

Oh, and Bacon's newfound mobility also means he has a new way of throwing a fit: heel lifts.

A New Voice

Trace has discovered his inner banshee. He always used to growl at us when newly born. That eventually faded, but it wasn't that horrible when he did it. It was kind of soothing, even sweet. Now he screams.

And not just a normal scream, either. He has discovered how to force the air out over his vocal chords in such a way as to perfectly impersonate The Wicked Witch of the West. The kid is sitting in his crib at this very moment, actually, lodging a complaint in that scratchy, loud voice--"Aah, aah, aah, aah, aah!" Which, loosely translated, means, "No, I didn't give you permission to do that." It's nap time. No, I'm not letting him cry it out. I'm not even ferberizing him. Sometimes--when he's eaten too much at lunch time, usually--he's unable to self-soothe enough from nursing (in this case, his belly's already full, and he didn't want much), and he "asks" to be put down. Then he complains until he falls asleep (2-10 minutes, tops). It's not actual crying (after 3 kids, I know their tricks), and I know if I come pick him up, he'll actually become mad.

So, he's in his room. Screeching. He also screeches in a similar fashion, these days, when I'm feeding him. That time, it's a sharp, "Aaaaaah!" that most nearly means, "Faster, Minion!" (not to be confused with its alternate translation, "I'm losing my patience with you quickly, Mother," that comes as I'm attempting to snap the side of the diaper closed)

Don't get me wrong. I have said in the past--and I continue to say--that he is THE most laid-back baby I have ever had. He's sweet, and cuddly, and a complete joy to be around. And he's sleeping quietly now--now that he's had his say.

Foster Care

Lee and I are attending GPS classes. Okay, really I am, and Lee is at work, but eventually he might get to a few. I forget what GPS stands for, but it's foster care parenting training. We're working with a wonderful agency called AGAPE, and it's a good name. Because what these kids need is agape. These kids have been through so much. I've learned so much since we started, and there is always something new to learn.

For example, it never crossed my mind, when thinking about this good work that is at the very crux of my faith and beliefs... [some of? most of?] these children will NOT WANT to be in my home. No matter how kind and loving and supportive I try to be, they're just going to want Mommy and Daddy back together, in their old house. And while reunification is the number one goal, it's not always possible... but it won't keep the kids from wanting it, and trying to make it happen--which is where a lot of misbehavior comes from--trying to be bad, so they'll be sent back home.

Oh, so much to think about. I feel more enlightened, and yet, less knowledgeable, with each class, if that makes any sense. But this is something I am determined needs to be done, and I want to do it with all my heart. Your prayers would be highly appreciated.

Bed's calling...

I am seriously considering burrowing back into my bed. Exhaustion like the early days of infancy is setting in. Trace has Roseola, and it has been a very, VERY long week. I apologize to those of you whose babies will shortly be contracting this. Apparently, infected children only seem to transmit the disease BEFORE they start showing symptoms. Oops. That would be Sunday. At church. You know, that place we see more people than we will see all week?

And there's also no way to treat it. It's a wirus, as my pediatrician calls it, and the only thing for it is to let it run its course. And run, and run, and run.... Not complaining, really. Trace is by and far a very healthy baby. But he sure picked a doozy. The fever period is over. That was the first three days. Now he has a rash, and still feels pretty lethargic and puny. That is supposed to last anywhere from "a few hours to a few days" (right).

Today is my nephew, Nathan's, first birthday party (I won't be going, obviously). He is a precious thing. I took him to get his pictures taken as a surprise to his workaholic mommy, my sister. That was an adventure. He has just discovered the joys of walking and cannot stand still for any length of time whatsoever. The picture I decided on blowing up to frame is of him peeking through the bars of a deck railing. I'm surprised Connie got that one. The very next shot on the CD shows him reaching out for his three-year-old monster, er, I mean sister (kidding, Melissa) and giving us a heart attack, thinking he's about to fall out!

Kids. They make life so much more interesting. I was at a hotel some time ago in Houston, eating in the restaurant for lunch with the kids, and came to realize all the tables surrounding me, perhaps the entire restaurant, was filled with young professionals, having--no, doing--lunch with colleagues. Their conversations were completely shallow and boring. I heard so much gossip about coworkers, so many useless business proposals that really did nothing at all to sell the products or programs they were pushing, and a LOT of complaining about dates. Poor yuppies, I couldn't help thinking. They look at me with pity and distaste for bringing three young children to their trendy watering hole and interrupting their highly important chatter with the incessant questioning of a three-year-old and the whining of an overstimulated infant.

And yet, my conversations--every day--were much more stimulating, more productive, and much healthier. Medical science has proven that laughter really IS the best medicine, and for me to be there with my children was stressful at times, but rather comical most of the time. I suddenly realized that all of those movies and television shows with their cynical humor aimed at showing parents as devoid of talking about anything but their children were misguided. Yes, if you talk to me longer than a couple of minutes at best, I WILL tell you the latest funny thing my kids did. But that doesn't make me less of a person. In fact, I now know, it makes me more.