I Never Realized ...

... that something so adorable could produce something that's smell evokes my upchuck reflex.

... that I could survive on so little sleep.

... that a baby that weighs 8 lbs could shoot breast milk (and/or formula a few months later) 5 feet across the room mid-burp.

... that I could learn to take apart, wash, put back together and pour a baby bottle all in a zombie-like state.

... that the blue bulb sucker is used for sucking the ever-lovin' daylights (boogers) out of your child's nose.

... that the blue bulb sucker = torture, or at least that's what your baby will make it seem like.

... that the swing, papisan, pacifier and Elmo would all become my very best friends.

... that I could vacuum, load the dishwasher and do laundry all while wearing a baby (Bjorn).

... that the idea of anyone with a runny nose or cough within a 5 mile radius would cause me to turn in my path, throw a blanket over my child's carseat and run like women shopping at Kohls on Black Friday in the opposite direction.

... that I could be peed on so many times, and laugh each one.

... that I had a "momma bear" inside of me. A momma T-Rex might be more like it.

... that one little smile could make my entire world.

... that I would dance around, sing, make faces, pretty much act a fool, just to see that smile.

... that having a healthy child is such an incredible blessing.

... that the immediate feelings of intense sympathy and hurt that I would feel for any mother that had ever lost a child would be so overwhelming it would bring me to tears.

... that I couldn't wait for our son to be born and "out" of my stomach but now sometimes I'd give anything to put him back in so that I'd know he'd always be safe.

... that I could possibly have the urge to worry any more than I used to.

... that I could love my husband any more than I already did.

... that I could love someone I had never even met more than anyone I already knew (next to the Mister of course).

... that I could see the love the Father has for us, His children, in a whole new light.

... that this face would and will cause me to do anything to make him happy.

Pupdates.

Since a lot of you have been wondering how our original baby is doing with the new addition to the family, I thought I'd do a weekly because I'm too scatterbrained to commit to a certain day of the week update of how the pup's doing.  Hence the title "Pupdates".

I will have to say, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but when you come home with a tiny little angel that you would wrestle a dinosaur to protect and you have psychotic, nut house like, straight jacket needing postpartum tendancies, your first baby, no matter how much you SWEAR it will never happen, becomes a second priority.  And when you're postpartum'ing it up you'll even find yourself becoming downright frustrated with him.  For no other reason than the fact that he's curious and wants to get to know (i.e. sniff, lick and be all up in his bidness) his new little brother.  All the things you want your pup to do, but at the same time don't since he previously just licked his crotch and butt in the same sitting.  I will tell you it's gotten better on my end.  I'm back to giving my boy his attention, taking time to let him know his mommy loves him, all the while still keeping him from licking C's face, hands, pacifier (everything except his feet, he can lick his feet).  And until C gets to the point where he's pulling Koda's tail, climbing on his back and momma can't do anything about the fact that he just crawled over and ate something off the floor, I'll be keeping him at a bit of a distance.  While his big brother gives me this pitiful face ...

{Mum, wut is dat teeny ting dat gets all da gud toyz and you won't's letz me tuch?  Mayke SHURE he no's dis is MAH BALL!}

Mommy still loves you Koda bear.  I promise.

1, 2, 3, FOUR?

I can't believe it.  I can't believe he's four months.  They really do grow fast.  Here are the chair pics as promised!

{"Don't bother me mom, I'm chillin' on my glider."}

{"What?  You want me to smile too?  I AM sitting up you know.  I'm only 4 months.  What do you want from me?"}

{"Alright fine.  Here's your smile.  Can we watch Sesame Street now?  My homeboy Elmo's waiting on me to come hang out."}

I could just kiss that chubby belly all. day. long.



OMG.

"Oh-oh-oh,oh-oh-oh oh my gosh."

I'm posting on a Saturday.  This never happens.  But I HAD to wish my little man a

happy FOUR months

 Mommy'll post your 4 mo chair picture since she straight up forgot to take one at 3 mo on Monday since you're currently a-swingin' and a-snoozin' away.  I'm pretty sure waking you up, busting off your clothes and laying you down in just your diaper for your 4 month pics would probably result in a face resembling something like this ...

Except 4 months older.  And 9 lbs heavier.

  And there's no need for a face like that unless you've just been rudely awakened and pulled out of your cozy home that you've inhabited for the previous 9 months.  Then I'd make that face too.

Happy 4 months angel baby.  Soon I'll look up and you'll be driving off to college.  Apparently those kind of comments make mommy make a similar face to the one above as well.

Mommy loves you!!!

Short Hair, Don't Care!!!

"with short hair you begin to crave pearl necklaces, long earrings, and a variety of sunglasses. and you brush your teeth more often. short hair removes obvious femininity and replaces it with style. when it starts growing out a little and losing its style, you have to wear sunglasses until you can get it to the hairdresser. that's why you need a variety. short hair makes you aware of subtraction as style. you can no longer wear puffed sleeves or ruffles; the neat is suddenly preferable to the fussy. you eye the tweezers instead of the blusher. what else can you take away? you can't hide behind short hair... you may look a little androgynous, a little unfinished, a little bare... but your face is no longer a flat screen surrounded by a curtain: the world sees you in three dimensions."


- joan juliet buck for american vogue, c.1988 (via the political quotidian)
 
 
Thanks to the glamourai for posting this quote!

Vegas Day Four

Our fourth day in Vegas was another sleep in, then go to the pool day. Except that this time everyone was even more hungover and I went by myself. The girls trickled in one by one to join me.

The pool this day was filled with entertaining people to meet. Two British ladies walked over and started a conversation with me... about how their brother over there on the other side of the pool thinks I'm cute and I should go over and talk to him. He was fat, bald, and wearing a cowboy hat. YES! Totally my type! (Obviously kidding.) Oh yeah, I should mention that these ladies didn't have posh sounding accents, like hot black British guy, or Harry Potter... they had total cockney accents. So what they were saying came out like: "Do ye want to meet me brotha? He fancies you! He's a fine bloke, me brotha!" I politely declined.

There were also a couple of guys sitting near us that we had our eyes on.
Can you say abs? When we finally started talking to them it turned out they were from Prince George. I'm telling you, half the people you meet in Vegas are from BC. And once we got to talking we discovered that they were going to be on our plane ride home. I was flirting with one of them when he mentioned that we should join the Mile High Club on the way home. I laughed it off.

After pool time we headed to Pink's for a hot dog. Well, mine was more of a burrito that happened to have a wiener (well, 2 weiners) in it. It was huge and it had chili and cheese and tomatoes. The chili was delicious. I'd order it again but I think I'd actually rather have it sans-weiner.

That night the other 2 girls went to see "O" by Cirque de Soliel while we napped. Well, tried to nap, the neighbors were at it again! We met the girls after their show for dinner at an Italian restarant in the Venetian. It seemed really strange to be eating pasta at 10ish at night.

The restaurant we were at didn't have its own restroom, you had to use the hotel ones, but we discovered that we could sneak into the adjoining restaurant and use theirs. I walked through the glass doors, and then headed up the stairs... Where I was greeted by a male bathroom attendant... Who opened the bathroom door for me. Interesting. Then I walked into the bathroom, and he accompanied me, and opened the stall door too. Strange. It turned out that this bathroom won an award in 2009 for America's Best Public Restooms. Everything in there is marble, with gold trim. There's even a lion's head fountain and fancy murals on the wall.

We took it easy on Freemont Street that night. Walked around with a couple of beers and watched the light show, which was a "Born to be Wild" theme featuring motorcycles and skulls. We then hopped a cab to the Wynn and Encore to follow up crappy Vegas with schmancy Vegas! And then walked the entire way back. A lovely walk to end a lovely day.

Friday Confessional ...

My cute blogger friend, Aly, plays along in this fun weekly Friday post ...

And since my brain has currently dried up of all things interesting besides the cuteness of my baby boy and his daily occurances, I thought I'd play along.

I confess that I'm not domestic.  At least the whole "keep your house company ready at all times" part of it.  The whole staying home and not working?  Oh I got that.  Don't get me wrong, I like for my house to APPEAR clean, but the actual act of dusting, vacuuming and all the other shenanagins that come along with cleaning, I. HATE.  And to make matters worse, the Mister is the opposite.  Not meaning he loves to clean, but he loves nothing more than to come home to a house that will pass the white glove test.  I really wish I were a Monica.  Friends?  Anyone?

I confess that I am terrible, TERRIBLE at commenting on other people's blogs.  So much so that I rarely do.  Which makes no sense because I so adore getting comments from my wonderful readers!  I swear there is something in C that will give me time to read someone's blog, click the comment button and as soon as I do it's like that click turns a button on in him to either be hungry, tired, wet, fussy (insert any emotion that causes mommy to tend to baby) and I forget.  But like I've said before, I READ, I READ!!!

I confess that I have been an emotional rollercoaster lately.  It's getting better but we have still yet to get off the ride.

I confess that my hair is not naturally blonde (not much of a confessional eh?)

I confess that I MIGHT be becoming a control freak.  Especially regarding our child.

I confess that I need an intervention for my addiction to reality TV.  The Bachelor, American Idol, RH of (insert city here), Bethenny Ever After.  "Hello, my name is Katie and I'm a reality show-a-holic."

I confess that SOMETIMES I become a little road rageous.  But I'm working on that since I have little ears with me at all times now.

I confess that I have an obsession with constantly decorating and redecorating our house.  This drives. the Mister. (and our bank account) CA-RAZY.

And that's it.  Come on.  Play along.  You know you wanna.