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March 2026

The Stork and the Beanstalk

A Mother's Journal

A photo journal comprised of my thoughts on motherhood and other life happenings, as well
as some of professional work as a photographer. Southern California is home.

Month: April 2013

Van @ 9 Months

by Ashley filed under Van

Growth & Appearance: You’re not chubby so much as you are girthy. You’re solid. We joke that you have emphysema because you are so barrel chested. Maybe you spent your overdue days in the womb hanging out and smoking?

You also still have an “old man” appearance and several people have commented that you seem “wise”; I think the two are intertwined. Whatever the case may be, your Papa’s Aunt self-diagnosed you as a genius and I’m not arguing with the woman.

You weigh 21 lbs, 6 oz. (60th percentile), 30 inches long (91st percentile), head circumference 18 inches (60th percentile). You’re wearing size 4 diapers (same as your brother), size 18-24 month pants (you got some long legs), and size 12 month onesies/tops. Your hair is brown with little specks of golden. Most people say, like your brother, that you look like your Papa but have my eyes. I agree.

Teeth: It only took 9 months, but your first tooth has sprouted. Your bottom left has broken through and your bottom right is right behind it. I can see the top two working their way down as well. You’re about to have a whole new look. We won’t wait until they turn yellow to brush them like we did with your brother, promise.

Eating: Baby led weaning has been bliss. You love it, we love it, and feeding you is easier than asking a bronco to buck. You eat everything. In fact, you cry when there is nothing left in front of you. I’ve learned to cut your food into tiny pieces before setting it in front of you because you get too frustrated by the fact that I cannot cut it as fast as you can gobble it. You’ll eat just about anything, but your favorites are bread products. You eat everything on your own. I offer you 2-3 meals per day and you eat a lot at each meal.

You jump up and down in your high chair when we have oatmeal for breakfast. And you still eat a lot of the pieces of the shag rug in the office.

You breastfeed 8 to 9 times a day. Some sessions last as little as 5 minutes but the morning and night feeds are always longer sessions. Our schedule is similar to what it was last month, though you seem to phase at least one feeding out most days: breastfeed twice before breakfast, then once after, breastfeed before lunch, then once after, breastfeed twice before dinner, then once before bed. I feel more relaxed about breastfeeding now that we’re on the home stretch. My plan, at this point, is to make it to your first birthday and then go as long as you are interested and as long as it’s enjoyable.

I pump after your morning feed and get anywhere from 1 to 3 oz. It doesn’t seem like much, but I combine it with the next days pumped milk and store it in the freezer for the days I work. I have way more milk than I need, but not enough to donate.

Sleeping: I’ve found you sitting up in your crib for the first time ever. It seems to have taken you awhile to move off your back. Now you’re up sitting every time I come in and I can tell pulling to stand is just around the corner. Since you started crawling, you’ve also started sleeping on your stomach. We come in to spy on you and, oftentimes, you’re little bum is sticking straight up into the air. I love this stage.

You sleep through the night, consistently. I sleep soundly and don’t go to bed at night with one ear to the monitor. It’s like heaven. Thank you. Here’s your sleep schedule: Wake up between 7-8am, nap around 11am until 1pm, afternoon nap from 4pm to 5:30pm, bedtime around 9pm. Your schedule has to be more flexible, so you don’t always get a second nap, though I’m sure you need it.

Nursing doesn’t always put you to sleep, but you have no trouble going down despite being placed in your crib awake.

Development: You have old man strength. We caught on to this early on but it’s manifesting in more ways now that you’re more mobile. The other day I sat you on a tricycle. A friend tried to pick you up off the tricycle and ended up lifting you up only to find the tricycle still in your grasp. You’ll be the one we turn to when we can’t open cans and banging the damn thing on the bottom to get the air out isn’t working.

You’re used to things being taken away from you, but rest assured that taking anything away from you is no easy feat. I think I’ve mentioned your death grip in every update thus far, but it’s worth repeating because it really is deadly. Every now and again (as in numerous times a day) I’ll have to take something away from you. It’s difficult to baby proof when you have a brother that throws everything on the floor. Accompanying your death grip now, however, is the sassy cat growl. You sense when somethings about to be ripped from your claws and start to draw it in closer to your body and bury your little head to your chest to protect your prize. Then you growl. When Hooper manages to take something away from you anyway, you scream and shake your head violently back and forth. You aren’t talking, per say, but you are a fantastic communicator.

Speaking of communicating, you say “ab da”. A lot.

You know your name. You’ve responded to it for quite some time but I’ve failed to mention it here.

You’re a wiggle worm on the changing table. I can’t even lay you down before you’re lifting your head up off the table to get a better view of something to grab. It’s nearly impossible to get a diaper on you; you contort your body in such a way that resembles this guy.

You mimic our waves and are starting to learn to clap.

You crawl with your right leg tucked in. You look handicapped.

You crawl under the desk often and then cry when you hit your head.

When you’re sitting, your arms are always up and out as if you are holding onto the handle bars of your motorcycle.

You make fantastic eye contact. We went to dinner with your Aunt KiKi and Chris and Chris insisted you starred him down. I believe it. You’re very personable. You love to laugh and even when you aren’t feeling good, you always smile. As long as no one is taking something away from you, you’re quite happy.

Now that you are crawling, you’re able to entertain yourself. As I write this, you’re underneath the pinball machine playing with the wire. You’ve been there for at least 10 minutes and you are perfectly content. Now you are eating the rug. You like eating the loose pieces of the rug. Damn the wool rug.

You’ve found Sarah’s food and when you’re near it, you want to eat it. Your brother ate so much dog food I was beginning to wonder if I shouldn’t just put it on a plate and call it breakfast.

Favorites: To say you love me seems like an understatement. Doggonit, it is understated. You L O V E me. No matter where I put you on the office rug, you always seem to meander your way over to my chair. You grab on to let me know you’re there and then look at me with these eyes as if to say, “These toys are cool, but you are cooler”. Despite your love for me, now that you’re crawling you’re quite fond of traveling all over the place to find something new to get into. You like balls, the dog leash, and pretty much anything you see Hooper playing with.

Hooper @ 29 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper

Growth & Appearance: I could have sworn you had all of your molars, but mysteriously another appeared. Now you have all of them. You handled them pretty well, but they definitely caused more commotion than your regular teeth which seemed to magically sprout overnight with little interruption in your routine. The molars came with a runny nose, poor appetite, and fussy behavior. But, they’re all here, so that chapter is closed.

You almost always have a bruise or bump somewhere these days, a testament to true toddlerhood. You had the most bizarre scratches on your cheek, almost like you had run through a rose bush. They appeared after we took Sarah for a walk and we’re still not sure when, exactly, you got em’. You currently have a bruise on your forehead from tripping over a rope in the neighbors yard, a scab on your wrist from who knows what, and scabbed knees because, well, scabbed knees are part of growing up. Speaking of growing up, can you slow down? Seriously, you’re on warp speed these days and it needs to slow yo.

You’re still in size 4 diapers, size 7 or 8 shoe, size 3T (with some room to grow) clothing.

Communication: Not sure where you picked it up, but the other day we were coming out of an elevator and as we walked past the people waiting to go in you said, “essue me” (excuse me). I’d like to take credit for your politeness but instead I’m left scratching my head.

You say “thanks” unprompted after we do something nice for you. If we give you your milk, for example, you grab it and say “thanks”.

You’re beginning to say real sentences. We were playing in the car the other day and said, “Mama, close the door”. Your Papa and I both looked at each other with our chins on our chest, proud that you said your first real sentence and disgusted that it was so bossy and cute all at the same time.

You know dogs say “ruff ruff” and cats say “m-owww”. The majority of other animals, according to you, say “roarrrrr”.

You can say hippopotamus.

You use your pointer finger a lot; like when you have an idea or want to watch “one” show or when you’re telling Sarah “no”.

You use plurals. You request to watch “one show”, though other times you request “two showS”. You also use plurals inappropriately like when you ask for “egg and baconS”, when you show us your “moneyS”, or tell us the shoes go on your “feetS”.

You have a noticeable lisp when you say your “S’s”. We think it’s pretty charming.

You call your scooter a “fooder” and your grandpa a “gee paw”.

You can tell us you need to use the toilet by saying, “Pee pee, potty” and then you grab your twig and berries.

Sentences include: “Close the door”, “Sit here Papa”, and “No barking doggy”. Essentially you say all the important things.

You copy things we say and then use them inappropriately. For example, we ask, “Do you want mama to hold you?” and then, when we’re not asking but you want us to hold you, you say “Mama, hold you”. We also referred to your balance bike as your “new bike” when a friend brought it over for us to have. It’s been months and you still call it your “new bike”. We don’t correct you.

Eating: You love using your step stool and watching us cook. You also like to use your step stool to spy on what’s on the counter. Using your step stool in the kitchen has also tipped you off to the fact that you can use just about anything as a step stool and, as a result, you are a climbing-onto-surfaces-you-shouldn’t-be-on machine these days. And it all started by trying to get you interested in food. What a fail.

I mentioned last month that we brought in an Occupational Therapist to help us out in determining a game plan for dealing with your picky and fussy and annoying behavior at the table. It’s all quite lengthy and I have a separate post in the works dedicated to the details. What I can say is this: Your eating problems are a combination of an overly-involved-anxious-about-how-much-you’re-eating father and a poor role model mother. But don’t go blaming us for the rest of your life, you’re equally difficult and definitely add your own flavor to the pot. We’re working on it, but it’s been a tough and trying road.

Sleeping: We decided to get rid of your second nap. I’m sure most parents would probably find this decision completely crazy, but it was becoming so difficult to do anything during the day. We decided to move your bedtime up to 8:30 (one hour earlier), though that doesn’t always happen. Here’s your schedule, most days: wake up around 8:30am, nap from 11:00am to 2:00pm (sometimes even 3:00pm), go to bed around 8:30pm. You still nap in your playpen because we don’t fix what ain’t broken. You spend the night in your bed. We added a safety knob on your door that prevents you from opening your own door, something we should have done a few months ago. Development: You clean up after yourself. Not always, of course. But you enjoy collecting trash and bringing it to the trash can in the kitchen. You usually clap for yourself after you’re done and say, “yeah guys”. By the same token, I had read somewhere that if your child makes a mess you should have them help clean it up to, you know, learn about consequences. The problem for us is that you like cleaning it up almost as much as you like making it. In fact, sometimes I’m convinced you spill your milk just to be able to clean it up.

You learn things fast and only need to be told something once before you’re repeating it. We were looking at a motorcycle parked in the parking lot, for example, and you pointed to the helmet and said, “hat”. I corrected you and told you all about helmets. The next time you saw a helmet, you knew what it was.

You love pointing out “men”. Whether we’re driving in the car or sitting in a restaurant, if a stranger catches your eye and he’s male, you point and say, “man”. You recently learned that in addition to men, there are also women. And now you like pointing them out too.

Now, when we ask you “how many”, the answer – no matter what- is three. It was two for a long time, but three has taken two’s place.

We finally brought you a scooter. You switch off between leading with your left versus right and enjoy riding it down the hallway. You haven’t taken off, so to say, but you definitely enjoy it. You like watching me ride it too and, truth be told, I take it for a spin around the house after you go to bed and I’ve had a glass or two of wine. Don’t judge.

You have a new found concept of being tall and like to climb onto higher surfaces and describe yourself as “tall”.

You insist on looking at the poop in your diaper. As soon as I take your diaper off, you wave your arms violently in the air and yell “see ka ka, see ka ka” until I show you what came out of your butt. You also like to look at Van’s poop. It’s weird.

You’re a dancing machine as of late. Your form of dancing used to be very white boy-ish, with flapping elbows that looked more like a drunk man doing the chicken dance. But lately, you’re starting to shake those hips and I’m starting to wonder to think you may have some soul dancing through your blood.

You associate all things that are leaving or gone with going home. You point out the planes, for example, and proclaim “home”. When the Easter eggs were all gone, you proclaimed they too had gone “home”. In general, when I tell you things are all gone, you take it one step further and ask if they’ve gone “home”.

You’re potty trained at home. The reason you wear a diaper out in public is my fault. I haven’t taken the plunge. We’ll get there soon.

Favorites: You love motorcycles. You still call them “da!” but occasionally you pronounce the whole word. Each time you spot one parked in the street, we have to stop. You could stand there and stare all day long; no matter how much time we spend admiring it, it’s never long enough. In fact, when you were sleep deprived in Palm Springs you threw a tantrum and threw yourself down on the curb and refused to leave the motorcycles side. It was a long day and needless to say, we all learned that it’s not smart to skip nap times. You also still love your cars and play with them on a daily basis. You go through spurts of loving books and want to read the same one over and over until that book “mysteriously” disappears. You could play in the car for hours. Every now and again we drive down the street with you on our lap. You like to wave to all the neighbors and yell “hi-yee” at the top of your lungs.

The Ranchero

by Ashley filed under Uncategorized

I talk about Janet a lot here on my blog. It’s hard not to. She’s my best friend.

Would you believe that we went to the same high school and weren’t even friends? It’s funny how people come back around and weave their way into your life somewhere down the line, at a more appropriate time (as a side note to that, Willy and I met in college and were friends but didn’t go on a first date until years later after we had both graduated).

In any event, I have random memories from my high school days where Janet was present. At our school, you had to apply for a parking spot. They were limited and went to seniors before juniors. If you were late to apply, you were SOL. Janet and I were both in the SOL club. She drove an old Ranchero and I drove an old turbo diesel Mercedes. And we both parked on the street.

I got my first parking ticket there on that street. It was for parking in front of the fire hydrent; something I claimed to not know was illegal when I brought the ticket home to my parents. Those were the day I drove with the sun roof always open and had Tom Petty or The Beastie Boys in my tape deck.

I digress.

I knew little of Janet, but I can still picture walking out to our cars, outside the school gates, after the last school bell rang. She’d drive away in her Ranchero, me in my Mercedes.

Janet came to visit the other day and I met her at her parent’s house. And there, in the driveway, sat the old busted Ranchero. It sat there like a trophy from our past, a reminder when we walked side by side but didn’t know each other.

I had my camera, because I always have my camera, and insisted on photographing her and her little daughter in that Ranchero.

When I look at that photo of her beautiful daughter behind the wheel of that clunker, I’m reminded that life unravels in so many awesome ways.

For All the Mamas

by Ashley filed under Holiday

+ + + + + + + + +

Preschool, Hash Tag: Question Mark.

by Ashley filed under Parenting

I’ve been asked a lot as of late when I’m going to put Hooper in preschool. I never thought it would be a difficult question to answer, but as it turns out, I find myself stumbling on my words each time I’m asked. It may be easy for me to complain about dealing with his terrible two shenanigans, but it’s hard for me to imagine not having him around… not even for a few hours. Not to mention that, because of his birthday, he won’t be in Kindergarden until he’s 6. This means he’ll be in preschool for FOUR years. That’s a long time. And a lot of money. Cue the megaphone: Preschool ain’t cheap people. Willy and I have a great schedule right now, so preschool would be for learning, not daycare. It’s hard for me to justify spending all that money to teach him things he’ll inevitably learn in due time. Rather than sound like a bipolar lunatic, I figured I’d outline my pros and cons. Here we go:

PROS

-Socialization. I can’t argue with this one. Being around other children is always a good thing. Learning things like sharing and controlling your emotions and all that other ish is important stuff. It’s stuff I cannot teach as effectively at home.

-Mama time. Oh how I’ve longed for some good ol’ quality time by myself. I’ve always considered myself an extrovert, but as I’ve gotten older I think that label was made in comparison to my sister who had periods of ubber introvertedness (I know, not a word, whatevs). In actuality, I think I live on the boarder of introvert and extrovert. But lately, I’ve just wanted to sit by my lonesome and enjoy some good ol’ ME time.

-Learning. Duh, this one is a given.

CONS

-Cost. I can’t believe how much preschool costs. It’s mind-blowing, really.

-Naps. Hooper still naps a solid 4-5 hours a day. I know, I know, I’m so lucky. I ain’t payin’ for him to nap somewhere else.

-Sniffles. Not sure I’m ready for all the germs he’s bound to bring home.

-Routine. I like structure, to a degree. But at some point, when there’s too much of it, each week starts to feel like a blueprint from the one before. That’s one reason I love my profession; as a nurse, my schedule is always different. No week ever feels like the one prior. Throw preschool into the mix and with it comes a schedule. It makes me cringe.

When did you start your child in preschool? What are your pros and cons and how did you come to a decision?

Style de Hooper

by Ashley filed under Hooper

I was wondering when the neon-goodness from the 80’s would make a return and I think it’s damn near time. This tank from Hello Apparel is all kinds of comfy (printed on an American Apparel tank). I bought Hooper the size 4. Hello Apparel is currently having a crazy sale and everything’s going fast. The leggings are from Mason and the Tambourine, which is quickly becoming my new favorite. These leggings are so soft and stretchy. I bought Hooper a size 3. I’m hoping they last a while cuz I’m not ready to put

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The Terrible Twos

by Ashley filed under Hooper, Motherhood, Parenting

My son is bipolar. Not literally but more in the sense that all toddlers are bipolar. He’ll raise his hand to hit me one minute and the next minute he’ll stroke my arm as if to say, “I love you, mom”. He’s experimenting, I get it.

One of the most important things in caring for a toddler, I’ve learned, has been to care for myself. The more rested and hydrated and fed and groomed I am, the more patience I have. On the days I don’t have time to shower or even change out of my pajamas, where I’m exhausted from Van waking me in the middle of the night (a rare occurrence as of late, thank goodness), and where feeding myself becomes tertiary to feeding the two little birds waiting for me to drop a worm into their mouths, I’m not as good of a mom as I know I can be. I’m sure every mom would agree with this. It goes without saying that the more rested and more prepared we are, the better we are at, well, everything.

Back to Hooper being bipolar. This kid flips between hitting and kissing like a ping pong ball in play on a Japanese table tennis court. The other day he raised his hand toward my head to stroke my hair and I scared him when I flinched, expecting to be smacked. Instead, I got a slobbery hand caressing my newly washed hair. It’s inconsistent, to say the least, but it’s nice to say that I’m not always the victim of abuse.

We’re working hard this week on positive reinforcement and rewarding “normal” behavior.

What’s working with your toddler this week?

Eye On the Prize

by Ashley filed under Motherhood, Van

I couldn’t wait for Hooper to crawl. We’d do little exercises to help him gain strength and put things in front of him to try to build his desire. Crawling is nothing but something to brag about for a first time mom. You have all the time in the world to dote on them and follow them around to make sure they aren’t getting into something they shouldn’t be. Go figure why first borns are typically the overachievers and pleasers.

With Van, I gave thanks for everyday he stayed put on his bottom. When he started to show desire, I’d put him on his back and hand him a toy. Crawling, for a second time mom, is a nuisance.

Here’s a recap of the past few days in the life of Van:

-He broke our full length mirror and cut his finger in the process. I bought a new one the same day (because, hello, a full length mirror can be life altering) and he almost broke it again the next day. The definition of an idiot, by the way, is someone who does the same thing more than once but expects a different outcome. And with that said, my chin has dropped down to my chest.

-He put a pebble of dog food in his mouth that I had to fish out and then he threw a fit about it (And let me just say, I’m glad Sarah isn’t old and crotchety yet because she’s gotten an excessive amount of abuse from this newly mobile creature).

-He got a hold of a glass jar of food and mimicked his brother who “accidentally” dropped one on the floor. Glass everywhere, again.

-He pulled the potted plant down on the floor and then tried to eat the dirt that spilled everywhere. This happened while I was washing the dishes, during which time I had relocated him four times away from the plants only to discover he was, in fact, more determined than me because somewhere between washing, drying, and putting away he used his new found super-speed to get there faster than me. Reminds me of this oldie but goodie post of when Hooper started getting into shit.

-He discovered the trashcan in the bathroom has a flip top and that he likes it and everything inside it.

I knew crawling would mean more work for me, hence my dedication to prolonging it. Boy does my back hurt. On the flip side, it is awfully cute to watch him scoot around. He’s adopted his own scoot, where his right leg stays tucked in (like in the butterfly position – see pic above) and he pushes with his left leg. He’s able to entertain himself for longer and he’s also napping longer now that he’s exerting more energy. Oh ya, and he’s pretty happy with himself too. So, as is with everything in motherhood, there’s good with the bad.

A Tour

by Ashley filed under Hooper

I’ve been promising this room tour for some time now and you know what finally kicked my ass in to gear? The thought of changing it. Willy and I are constantly changing things around the house and with the plethora of toys that seem to be taking over our home like the ivy has taken over the backyard, I’ve begun dreaming of putting the boys in the same room and designating the spare bedroom as a play room (AKA Shove all the kids shit into one room room. Yes, I meant room room). I digress.

This is Hooper’s room, as it appears today. I had to include a couple old (and by two year old standards, old means like 6 months ago) pics of Hoop playing in his room. There aren’t many pics of Hoop actually in his room because he hardly ever plays in there and because Willy insists on draping two sheets over the windows to fool him into sleeping longer, making it a f’n hassle to take any photos. I digress, again.

Most of what’s in his room was either mine as a child or purchased second hand from thrift stores, consignment shops, or flea markets. For the sake of clarification, we did not name him after the Burt Reynold’s movie, but that is a pretty cool print, no? Sure makes me want to change my name to Hooper so I can fly cars over large bodies of water. The book shelves on the wall are actually spice racks that I painted from Ikea (they cost a mere 5 bucks or something ridiculously cheap… for both of them). The bed and vintage school desk are both from a local flea market. The dresser is from a consignment shop in Big Bear. Almost all the toys and decorations, like the Norman Rockwell prints, were things my mom saved from my childhood. I still, believe it or not, have a few things I need/want to do before it’s finally considered finished in my book; like adding this wonderful illustration that Sarah Dyer did along with a few other odds n’ ends.

But for now, there you have it: Hooper’s room. Ta- freakin’ -da.

Etsy Love

by Ashley filed under Uncategorized

I came across these gems on Etsy and am so smitten. Every now and again I come across something cute and am inspired to completely re-do the kid’s rooms. Guess I’ll just keep having kids to place in the rooms I’m envisioning. Oh I make myself chuckle. Anyway, they are from etsy seller Violet May.

Speaking of kids rooms… I have a tour of Hooper’s room planned for tomorrow. I keep my promises… even if I take my sweet ass time.

Van @ 8 Months

by Ashley filed under Van

Growth & Appearance: You’re growing fast. Like, really fast. You’re incredibly long, longer than some babies much older than you. You have the perfect amount of chubs around your belly button and I’m often pinching the chubs around your thighs while grinning my teeth. I call this love abuse because I’m sure it hurts from time to time, but you’re so dang cute I just can help myself. It’s like saying you’re so cute I could eat you, only I take a little nibble. It’s whatevs.

Your hair is getting lighter. Because your newborn hair completely fell out in certain areas, the hairs on the back of your head are significantly longer and stick up like weeds in a freshly mowed field of grass. And when the wind blows, they sway like little flowers and move with the breeze. You hair is soft and everyone around here enjoys rubbing your little fuzz head, including your brother.

We’re finishing out the size 3 diapers, but you’re clearly better off in size 4. This means you wear the same size diaper as your brother, for the record. Pajamas are size 18 months, soon to be 2T.

Still no teeth, but not to worry, you could probably chew gum with your gums.

Eating: You love feeding yourself (I wrote about our decision to go the baby led weaning route here). You typically eat 2 meals a day, but I leave this totally up to you. Some days you don’t want breakfast and I don’t push it, confident that what you’re getting from breastfeeding is all you really need anyway. What you don’t eat in the morning, you make up for in the evening. You typically eat a large amount in the evening and it normally comes from our own plates. You’ve tried just about everything: chicken, fish, pastas, rice, and loads of various fruits and vegetables. There isn’t anything you haven’t liked thus far, though I should note that you definitely have a preference as to how you are fed. Regardless if you love the food, you do not like when I try to give it to you via a spoon. Things like yogurt are very tough to feed you because you want complete control over everything that goes in your mouth. More power to you. I’m just not sure how to get certain things in, given the fact you don’t have the dexterity to use proper utensils. In any case, we’re really enjoying the baby led weaning process.

I’m still breastfeeding you around 9x/day. It feels like a lot, but it’s on demand and I refuse to feed you any other way. With that said, it’s all very predictable and we have a nice routine that looks something like this: Breastfeed twice in the morning before breakfast and then once before your morning nap, then breastfeed twice before lunch and then once before your afternoon nap, then breastfeed twice before dinner and then once before bed. The amount of milk I’ve been donating has slowed, as I’m starting to stock up in anticipation of my supply lessening as it did with Hooper around the 10th month mark.

Sleeping: You’re sleeping consistently through the night and I’ve nearly forgotten the zombie I once was. Selective memory, I suppose. You’re sleeping about 10 hours at night, going down around 9pm and waking around 7am. You typically nap in the morning for 2 hours and again in the evening for 2 hours. The naps are more inconsistent; you always take one, but it’s hard to know how long they’re going to last.

You always sleep on your back, as you’re not much of a roller. You maneuver your way around your crib, but I always find you on your back.

Nursing puts you to sleep most nights, but occasionally you’re still awake after your nighttime feed. Nevertheless, you tend to drift off to sleep on your own with ease.

Development: Just after your seventh month, you became able to hold yourself up in a standing position. You often reach for my hands to use as support and pull yourself up to a standing position. This is typically your way of macgyvering your way into my arms, which is where you typically prefer to be. Your able to hold yourself up in a standing position if I give you something to hold on to.

You’re not crawling yet, despite your obvious desire to. I’m torn between wanting you to crawl in hopes it brings more independence and not wanting you to crawl because, lets face it, it’s more work for me. You reach out often from a sitting position and nearly make it on to all fours before you plop back down on your bottom. You’re able to rotate a full 360 degrees in the sitting position and can get just about anything within a couple foot radius by scooting.

You appear to be right handed. You consistently put food in your mouth using your right hand. Your pincer grasp is much more efficient and you’re able to pick up small crumbs off the table.

You have a friendly disposition and you love to laugh. Sometimes I hear you laughing in your carseat and I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what’s making you giggle. You’re fine going from one person to the next so long as I’m not in sight.

You’ve started gibber jabbering and say “Da” and “Ma”.

You love music. You rock back and forth violently when it’s playing and just recently you started shaking you head back and forth with your chin down toward your chest like you’re back in 1940’s Cuba listening to a man play a trumpet in a darkened music hall.

Favorites: I’m still your favorite. Not much tops your mama these days. Knowing that it’s fleeting makes me hold on to these days for as long as I can. Your mama’s arms are always open. Taking second place is the electric tooth brush. You’re pretty fond of thing too.

Hooper @ 28 Months

by Ashley filed under Hooper

Growth & Appearance: Your father (I refer to him as your “father” when he’s in trouble) decided it would be a good idea to trim your bangs, which had been pecking your eyes like a bird at bread. He might as well had put a bowl on your head and given you a trim. Needless to say, for the first time ever, I started using product in your hair to allow you to rock the comb over look. When your bangs hang straight down, each end meeting perfectly in line with the one next to it, you look straight up dorky. Yeah, I said it. I’ll keep combing it on over. And, you’re welcome. Your hair has darkened up a bit and is the sweetest dirty blond.

You have eczema on the back of both of your knees. This is from your father, who says he had it throughout his child and adolescent years. He remembers it as a horrible experience, so you can thank him for that.

In other news, all of your two year molars are in. I hope this means less bipolar behavior.

Your feet are just nearly grown out of size 7 and these are the first set of shoes that may not make it through a Van cycle. The worn in souls and the shotty Velcro serve as a testament to days spent puddle jumping and galloping free as a bird. You’re still in size 4 diaper, when you wear a diaper, size 3T shirts and pants and pajamas.

Eating: Oh lordy, it’s painful to even discuss. You suck at the table. I know we are largely to blame for many of the bad habits you have and we’re trying desperately to find the way out of the hole we’ve been digging. Desperate times call for desperate measures and I’ve actually arranged for an occupational therapist to come in and throw a rope down to the bottom of the cave where your Papa and I sit shivering in the cold. Our hope is that we can find peace during mealtime; meaning no ultimatums, no distractions, no bite by bite negotiations. It’s gotten incredibly time consuming and frustrating and while we both understand that you’re a toddler, we need to be on the same page as far as how to handle your toddler behavior at the table. If you ate every meal like you did chicken nuggets, however, dinner would be a breeze. I think that’s the only meal you eat entirely on your own with no fuss and even request more when you’re done. I can’t lie, I wish I could give you chicken nuggets for every. single. meal. But alas, I love you and want you thrive. Damn my love for you. Life would be easier if I just didn’t care.

Talking: There really isn’t anything that you don’t say. You’re able to put a few words together. Here’s some of your most used phrases: “Papa, sit”, “One show, pweez”, “More sicken (chicken)”. You’re picking up so many words these days that oftentimes we don’t understand a lot of them. We used to speak your language and be able to translate for others but now I find myself shrugging my shoulders, unsure of what it is you’re trying to say.

The outside world remains one big game of pictionary. You love riding in the car and pointing out the buses and motorcycles (still called “da!”). You like to point out random male strangers and pronounce, “man!”. In fact, several times a day we say “yes, yes, Hooper, you’re right, that is a man”. I’m dreading the day you add adjectives and label someone as a fat man or a smelly man or an ugly man. Oh the lessons of life yet to come.

Sleeping: You’re still number one sleeper. You sleep about 10 hours at night and roughly 4 hours during the day (2-3 in the morning, 1-2 in the evening). As always, your evening nap is hit or miss. We still put you in your playpen for the naps because it’s easier for us and, like most things that are easier for us, has become a hard habit to break. You’re just as happy to nap there as your bed and you never fight a nap or bedtime (Picture me kissing the sky above, because that’s exactly what I’m doing right now). You sleep with your blanket (which you still call your da-dgee) and a bigger blanket (which you call your big da-dgee) and several stuffed animals that all have their own names: cooooooow, Niles, Jeff, Dan, Andy, Montner, to name a few. And yes, we did name a stuffed clown after one of your grandpas and cowboy smurf after the other.

You seem to have forgotten how to open your door. For a while there, you’d magically appear in our room. Now, when you wake up, you plant yourself at the foot of your door and wait for us to come get you.

Development: You have a concept of things being “gary” (scary). I think it’s a game, but you play the scared role well. Papa pretends to be a monstor and you come running toward me saying “gary, gary” and insist on being held. Yesterday you started running from Sarah and insisting she was scary too. You noticed a long dark hallway at a restaurant and referred to it as scary. You were happily playing with two older girls and when something went crashing and made a large sound, you refused to play with them any longer and kept referring to them as scary. We use your new found fears to our advantage by chasing you with the scissors so you now find them “gary”. This has solved the problem of you going in the drawer and trying to take the scissors out.

Along the same lines as your “gary” shenanigans, you now let out random screams. We think you picked it up from Curious George. Anytime any sort of commotion is going on, you look at us and let out one big loud scream. We were at a Spring training baseball game when a foul ball hit someone a few rows back. You picked up on all the commotion and let out one of your Curious George sceams. You also scream when Sarah is being overly rambunctious and, in general, during any times of mayhem.

You’ve figured out that blowing into your straw creates bubbles and you like this. You also like quacking like a duck and walking around in circles with your fists nestled into your armpits like duck wings. You love riding your balance bike and are able to balance well on it. It’s time to get you a bike or scooter, but we have yet to do so. Your legs are nearly long enough to start peddling.

You’re connecting concepts. Like the concept of swimming, for example. The other day we were making pasta and you pointed to it in the pot and proclaimed, “pasta fumming” (aka pasta swimming). The door of your imagination has cracked open and I’m sitting on the edge of my seat to hear how it all plays out in that little head of yours.

The jury is still out as to whether you are right or left handed. You tend to draw with your left, throw with your right, and eat with both your left and right.

You do a good job of entertaining yourself and are independent in all aspects other than eating.

You play the butthole game with your Papa. This is when you say, “butthole” and then Papa tickles you to near death. I’m not sure how I feel about this game because I’m your mom and I’m not supposed to encourage things like you saying “butthole”, but you really enjoy it and I’m quite certain it sounds like “pothole” anyway. Yeah, I’m going with pothole.

You mimic, oh do you mimic. The other day you copied me by resting your chin on your hand with your elbow on the table. You also do your own version of push-ups, something you picked up from your Grandpa (though I’m not going to lie, I wish you picked it up from me).

Your memory is on point. It’s amazing the things that obviously find a little corner to make a home in your brain. Like when we went to Arizona and you started looking for the balls you had hid by the sofa months before.

You’re a great traveler. You enjoy looking out the window at the passing cars and can easily tolerate a whole day of driving in the car. We’ve driven to San Francisco and Arizona (about 6-8 hours) and both times have been a breeze. I hope this translates to you enjoying the open road as an adult. Make sure you go places, ya hear?

You’ve become a good little helper. You clean up your toys at the end of the day and seem to enjoy putting all your cars back into your little suitcase just as much as you like taking them out. You’re better than I expected at sharing and like to pile your brother under a mountain of miscellaneous objects. You’re generally sweet and kind hearted. You’re a gentle soul and you love to laugh. You enjoy being the center of attention and play that role well. You’re a good sharer most of the time and love being rewarded for a job well done.

You have moments of toddler tantrums, but they seem to have simmered down considerably and are rather few and far between these days. Nevertheless, you still raise your hand to me, but more often than not, it lands on my head and is followed by a gentle pat. You love the reinforcement you get for being kind and rewarding normal behavior has done wonders for the terrible twos.

You can count. You refuse to do it when we ask, but at the most random times, you’ll go all the way from one to ten with a few hiccups in between.

Favorites: There is a book called, “The Bike Lesson” by the Berenstain’s that you love. We read that a lot. You also love tractors and motorcycles. Whenever we see a parked motorcycle, we have to walk over and admire it for a least a few minutes. You still like arranging your cars into separate piles and are back at spreading your toys all over the sofa, making sitting down near impossible without ruining one of your piles. Luckily, it does not upset you in the least to have one of your piles pushed to the side. When this happens, you go right on to making a new pile. You’re adaptable that way. The gardeners are still one of your favorites and every time you see a truck with a lawn mower in the back, I have to pick your jaw up off the floor. You’re also still quite impressed with trash day and insist and going out to watch the trucks go by. Although, I have a sneaking suspicion this may start to get “gary”. Oh you little rascal, I sure do love you.

Mama's Corner

by Ashley filed under Motherhood

Wearing: I love this dress from TopShop. It’s so airy and comfortable. I won’t mention the fact that a button popped off as soon as I swung Van onto my hip. Luckily they provide you with two extras. I’m more careful now. I paired it with a basic black tank and some comfy wedges I had thrifted a while back. I can’t tell if it’s the outfit or the fact that there’s a baby in my arms, but something about it is screaming “Mom Alert” at me. Please tell me I’m wrong? In any case, I really like this dress. I take comfort over anything and it certainly checks that box.

Debating: I’ve been sitting on the idea of writing a postpartum body image post. For the first time ever, I’m a little nervous about how it would be perceived. I usually don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks, but I remember Melissa receiving some backlash for complaining about losing too much weight while breastfeeding and I think it made me a little self-conscious. In any event, I’ll say this: I’m not comfortable in my own skin and I think – no matter what our complaints are – most moms can relate.

Loving: I’ve checked out a lot of the other bloggers participating in Jodi’s 365 Photo Project, but none steals my heart quite like Lamb Loves Fox. She’s doing a 365 day project, photographing her little lamb everyday. She’s due any day now with a little fox to add to the mix. Check it out and keep her in your thoughts, I think Mr.Fox is coming today.

Starting Anew: Did you follow Frecklewonder? She abandoned ship and jumped to sail along the etsy stream of life. You can find her new shop here. It does not disappoint. I definitely have my eye out for some pennants like these for when I re-do the boys room sometime down the line.

Listening: My love for Spanish music most certainly comes from my days spent traveling. It’s crazy how music can transport your spirit. To go back to places like the Dominican Republic, all I need to do is throw on some Bachata and close my eyes. In any event, I love how this band mixes in Mariachi. Brilliant. Hooper and I have dance parties while this track spins over and over again. You should too.

Wanting: Shopping for myself has become so secondary to shopping for my members. I splurged just the other night and went online shopping (I know, dangerous) and didn’t even buy anything for myself. I passed on this incredibly awesome sweater for Hooper (and later Van) because I couldn’t justify buying a sweater when it’s not sweater weather and is only going to get hotter. I’m already having remorse about it but I’m under strict orders not to buy them any more clothes. Willy even put thrifted clothes on the back burner. I know, what an asshole. I came across this little dress too and contemplated, for a second, what it would be like if Hooper and Van had a sister. Online shopping, I hate you.

Wondering: I can’t seem to figure out why parents brag about potty training. Diapers are clearly where it’s at. We’ve had some regression with the potty training following a trip to Arizona, another to Palm Springs, and the whole rotavirus stint. With that said, Hooper peed in his pants twice and then again on the drivers seat in Willy’s car over the weekend. I kinda miss diapers. But, alas, I have a few days off and I’m rededicating myself.

Hope everyone had a lovely Easter.