Truman the Great

Truman is one of the world's most forceful poopers. The kid is incredible. It seems that every outfit he's ever worn has ended up soaking in OxiClean (minus his blessing gown, since the Onesie beneath contained the mess). He has blown out of every brand of diapers we've tried: Pampers, Luvs, Huggies, and Target's Up and Up.

I keep wondering when we should take the iconic blow-out picture, one like Millie's. Truth is, we could take one almost any day of the week. Okay, maybe not to that degree, but a shot of poop seeping out above his waistband.

He is a force to be reckoned with. (And I ask myself, "Is this somehow boy-related? Am I in for trouble the rest of my life?")

Truman's Blessing Day

Truman was blessed while we were in Idaho. Chris wanted to bless him at church, but after our plane tickets were purchased we realized our parents both had stake conference that weekend (a regional broadcast conference). So Truman was blessed at Chris's parents' home on April 21.

We neglected to get a picture of all the men who stood in the circle, but Truman was supported and surrounded by good men. Chris, Grandpa Hartwell, Uncle Jeremy, Grandpa Parish, Uncles Chod, Brent and Ty, Chris's Uncle Paul and cousin Josh, and Bishop Kelly Anthon.

I'm sure Chris gave Truman a beautiful blessing, but I was too anxious and busy trying (semi-successfully) to keep Millie quiet that I wasn't able to soak it in. Let me explain.

In our family there is a history of mishaps during priesthood ordinances. With one being forgetting to state the authority of the Melchizedek priesthood, and having to go back and restate that authority after the fact.

When I don't hear Chris stating the authority, I start to get a little bit nervous. I look at my mom who is giving me wide eyes. Then I catch the eye of my brother-in-law Brent, in the circle, and silently urge him to help the situation. He whispers "Melchizedek priesthood," and Chris states that authority, then restates Truman's name and goes on with the blessing. Whew!

Chris blessed Truman that he would be a comfort to those around him. Truman was blessed that he would marry someone in the temple and start a family of his own. He was admonished to look to family. His nuclear and extended family love him and made sacrifices to be there that day and will continue to be there for him throughout his life. Truman was blessed that he would have a desire and conviction to serve a mission (eliciting a "He serve a mission!!" from Millie), and that he would have great joy and success in serving other. He was blessed that he would have challenges, but that he would be strong to overcome. And lastly he was blessed that he might stay true to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

As Chris says amen, Millie shouted with glee. "Daddy did it!" She had learned about the priesthood just a few weeks previous in nursery, and the part that really stuck with her was baby blessings. She was so proud of her dad.

Karisa and I secluded ourselves in the "mother's lounge" (aka the China room), while everyone else started in on lunch. Chris's mom and Aunt Judy had prepared a beautiful lunch, with my sisters and mom putting out a super yummy dessert spread. It was all so nice.

As everyone was sitting around chatting after finishing lunch, my dad asked me what I noticed about the blessing and if I had gotten nervous. I mentioned how I was grateful Brent had been able to remind Chris of the authority. "So you didn't notice that Chris gave him the wrong name?!"

Apparently, in all my anxiety, I had not noticed that Chris had first given Truman the name of Truman Reading Madsen! Oops! After he had stated the power of the priesthood, he restated Truman's name correctly, so all was well. Several people thought maybe we were just giving him an extra middle name.

I've often wondered what I would think if my husband took it upon himself to give our child a new/different name in his baby blessing. Turns out, I wouldn't even notice!

My mom started a tradition of matching outfits for the grand kids for each blessing. It has grown and grown, and she keeps threatening that it will end, but she keeps at it. With a grand kid count of ten, she has stopped making them though. (It started out as using up the left-over fabric from the baby of honor's baby quilts, but she'd need to buy extra yardage, nowadays.)

The best I captured of this group of crazies! They are a fun group. Millie had a blast with them and asks frequently when her "friends" are coming to play.

Grace, Ruby, Dalanie, Delsie and Millie

Bentley, Tuff, Hudson, Truman and Lincoln (we were glad the Stephens boys were no longer acting like chickens for one shot!)

Not to be left out, Chris and Chod coincidentally wore their matching suits and coordinating ties. Cute!

Birthday Palooza

Yesterday wrapped up the last of Millie's birthday festivities. Ever since we went to our friend Gigi's birthday party in February, the girl has been obsessed with birthdays. The night of Gigi's party we had just gotten back from Chicago, where we went to Ikea. I bought this silly hat there, and Millie insisted on wearing it in to the party. That sparked her obsession with party hats. And I'd wager cupcakes are a favorite of most two year olds.

For about a month, she would wake up from naps, multiple times a week, insisting, "Go Millie birthday party?! Party hats! Cupcakes!" It was hard to hold her off. She had learned her birthday is "Apel sixteen."

Since we were in Idaho for her birthday (the actual day ended up being pretty miserable since we had had a very long night of delayed flights and little sleep the night before), we celebrated with lots of family the Saturday after her birthday, with the bonus that family would be in town for Truman's blessing the next day.

Her party started off with decorating hats

Ryan enlisted Dalanie as his helper finding the right color crayons. She felt important, and he didn't have to read all the labels to find the right one.

We watched Millie's 2nd year video. (Or most of it. We had a little technical difficulty, caused by Papa leaving a video streaming upstairs while we went downstairs to watch it.)

Then it was time for cupcakes and treats. Millie really liked her "number two candle," and we heard about it for days after.

Hudson got creative with the pipe cleaners.

Yesterday we had her little friend party. For some reason she started referring to it as "Millie little birthday party" a few days before. It was smaller than the one with all the family, thank goodness. Our house is great for our everyday life, but it gets a little cozy when you add some toddlers and their parents.

Blowing out her candles and sporting her 2 shirt from Aunt Nik

Millie requested treats early in the party (nothing like cupcakes at 10:30 am), so we had them, then sent the kids and dads out into the yard to play.

She's already started telling ladies at the grocery store that she'll be three next. And I don't think she quite understands that there won't be any more birthday parties where she's the center of attention for another year. And she certainly won't be getting three parties for her third birthday!

The Best First

Last night was this little guy's first time sleeping through the night (10:45-6:15).  Of all the firsts we've experienced in parenthood, this one is always my favorite!

Millie's 2nd Year

Man, we love this girl.

And I really love making the videos. If I had to make a scrapbook or a baby book, it wouldn't get done. But these are fun little time capsules of her life. The only hard thing is condensing down a whole year. My goal is to always keep them under 10 minutes.

12of12: Single Mom Edition

1. On our way to Friday play group. Sometimes I think it should feel weird that both those kids in car seats are mine, but it doesn't.
2. Lunch date to McAlister's Deli.
3. I love the way they present their kid's meal sandwiches. I'm going to copy it once Millie can tackle a whole sandwich.
4. This goon LOVES the wind in her face. And there was plenty of cold wind yesterday.
5. Once sister goes down for her nap, Truman and I get to play.
6. He wasn't wearing a onesie, and I loved all the belly button I got to see. Num num num.
7. Long afternoon naps are what got me through having Chris gone. They helped me keep patient the rest of the night.
8. "Mmmmm, I love you, bro."
9. I know she's my daughter. "What an 'O' say, Mom?" Oh, oh, oh! "No, 'O' say 'auh auh, auh.'"
10. Popping popcorn for our movie night (Pingu: On Thin Ice)
11. Millie's birthday present from Grandma and Grandpa arrived! So cute.
12. FaceTime with this guy while he was in Houston. "Would you still love me if I was bald?"

Stripped of the Title

It's really unfortunate that with Chris out of town, I decided to make pancakes with Millie this morning.

I'm going to have to take back Chris's title of best pancake maker ever and attribute it to the new baking powder I bought recently. Turns out the freshness of your baking powder does matter. And with the new stuff, I can make super fat and fluffy pancakes, too!

Though when Chris gets back, I'll still let him make the pancakes.

Truman's Birth Story

Here I am again, oversharing.

My mom got in on Saturday, March 2 (two days after my due date) and there was no sign of baby. I wasn't really having anything more than Braxton Hicks contractions. I was dilated to a three, like I had been for a few weeks. And Baby Boy was riding high (really high) in my ribs, and posterior. I wasn't too anxious, despite being uncomfortable. But as the weekend wore on and I didn't have a baby, or even contractions to indicate he would come any time soon, I started to get a little frustrated.

Monday I had an appointment scheduled and Sharon, the midwife, stripped my membranes. Since this baby was so high, she said she felt like she was going for my tonsils. And having had my tonsils removed, I felt like she was really searching for them!! But nothing was really progressing. I had dilated to a four. She told me if nothing had happened, I could come in on Wednesday and we'd try again. A little while later she was telling me I could come in Tuesday afternoon. But that week was busy for the midwives. She checked her calendar and told me to come in the next morning, to fill a cancellation of someone who had already had her baby. So it went from Wednesday, to Tuesday afternoon, to Tuesday morning.

That night we walked the mall to try to get something going. And did a little shopping, including the new hard drive (hooray!).

That walking must have done something, because that night I laid in bed, timing intense, uncomfortable and frequent contractions. I had to do some moving and breathing to handle them. I told myself if things were continuing like that, we'd head to the hospital at midnight. Well, the next thing I knew, I woke up and the contraction timer was still going, saying that contraction had been almost an hour long! Things had obviously calmed down and I got a decent night's sleep.

Tuesday morning Chris stayed home while my mom, Millie and I went rifling through junk at Surplus and Salvage to get some frames for a gallery wall. And I convinced Mom to get two books at the library, since Millie takes long naps and she didn't have anything else to do to pass the time.

On the drive home my mom was telling me how I'd better hurry. I told her I still had an hour until my appointment, but then I checked my phone and I had the appointment down as 10:40, two minutes away. I called scheduling and it was confirmed that indeed, my appointment was at 10:40, not 11:40 as I had thought. I called Chris and he met us in the driveway. We kicked out Grandma and Millie and raced to the doctor's office.

As I was sitting on the table, waiting for Sharon, I asked Chris, "What are we doing here? What can she even tell us that will make it worth our time? 'Oh, you're going to have a baby!' Yeah right, nothing is happening." I was getting frustrated.

Well, when Sharon came in and checked me, she started laughing. I was confused: is that a good laugh or a bad, sympathetic laugh?!

"Deidra, you're at a six or a seven!" She told me that when I said I'd had strong contractions but nothing was happening anymore, she hoped that they'd been really productive contractions, and thank goodness they were! She told us that we should go home and get our things together, eat lunch, and meet her at the hospital, but not to take too much time.

We did just that. Hawaiian haystacks (we ate these things for days while my mom was here; apparently I can't estimate food for more than three), loading the suitcase, and pulling Millie out of her crib for some last minute snuggles with her as our only child.

I'm really grateful that it's worked out both times that I've had an appointment and the midwife tells me to head to the hospital, then called the hospital to let them know I was coming. Because if I headed to triage telling them I was having contractions every 10 minutes or so, and they weren't really bad, I don't think they'd admit me. It's nice to know that when we walk through those doors we won't be sent home without a baby.

A snow storm was rolling in, and it was just starting to blow and whip around some flurries as we walked to the ER (about 12:30). We got settled in our room and got cozy. It all felt so familiar and comforting. I was particularly glad to know that Millie was at home with my mom and all was well on the homefront.

I refused the saline lock from the get-go, and it was great to be unencumbered and comfortable. Sharon arrived, we chatted a bit and she went to change into her scrubs. The nurse told me she would be there until six, but she was sure I would have a baby before shift change.

Sharon came back, we chatted. When a contraction would come on, I'd stop talking, breathe, and then resume chatting when it passed. Sharon said she wouldn't be able to tell I was having a contraction if she wasn't paying attention to my breathing. The nurse told me that I might be having the easiest labor she'd ever seen. (I decided to gladly claim the title.) For a while I resisted having my water broken. I knew that after that happened, things would probably get intense, and I wasn't sure I was ready for intense. Time wore on, and I got tired of nothing happening. I was dilated to a nine but not fully effaced, and still talking and hanging out.

We were running out of things to talk about. I had forbidden Chris from playing Plants v. Zombies during my delivery, but was starting to think that he might as well! I felt guilty for taking Sharon away from her office and afternoon appointments when nothing was happening.

Finally I could take it no longer, and about 4:00 Sharon broke my water. Things started getting a little bit more intense, and I would really have to focus on my breathing to get through contractions. I really wanted to be able to stare out through the big windows at the snow that just kept coming, but trying to focus on it made me dizzy. But it was a beautiful site when I wasn't having a contraction!

At one point I told Sharon that it felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. She seriously replied, "Please don't. Not without me there." The attitude was that once this baby came, he would come quickly. She also told Chris that with the next baby, if I even mentioned that something felt a little bit funny, I should probably just go to the hospital. Because not many women are dilated to a nine and handling contractions like I was.

Things continued to increase in intensity and I stopped paying attention to the clock, or anything beyond a contraction and resting in between. Our nurse left us with shift change at 6:00, and still no baby.

I had relayed to Sharon my concerns with labor and delivery: a posterior baby (like his sister) and tearing that made recovery awful (probably related to delivering a posterior baby). She did all that she could to help both situations, as well as getting me to fully effaced before I was worn out. Baby Brother had gotten in position correctly and was no longer posterior. Which is probably why labor seemed like a cake walk in comparison to what I knew previously.

I don't really remember much from here on out. I know Sharon told me I could try pushing if I wanted to, in hopes of getting my cervix fully effaced. I tried a few times with no result, and one time she coached me to push. I flatly stated I did not want to. (She was okay with that.) At one point I told her, Chris and the nurses that they had to tell me how well I was doing. I needed to hear that I could do it.

Then I felt the urge to push, pushed maybe four or five times (do women actually have the presence of mind to count at this point in time?!?), and then at 8:03 pm we had ourselves a beautiful little boy! The first thought I had was the he looked very much like a Hartwell, with his recessive chin. (Funny enough, that was one of my worries while pregnant with Millie, but I hadn't given it a thought while pregnant with him!)

Chris cut the cord, we snuggled and I tried to focus on Truman instead of being stitched up. I do think that having an epidural would be nice after delivering a baby, because local anesthesia doesn't quite do enough. Far and away my least favorite part of labor or delivery.

They took Truman away to wash and weigh him. Perfectly chunky at 8 lbs 5 oz, 20 inches long. Chubbers wasted no time, latching right on and going to town. By the time we left the hospital, he was weighing in just an ounce shy of birth weight. 

Brand new.

Right after his bath. This is a Hartwell baby, through and through.

A few weeks before he was born a friend told me she hoped I had a big baby (because Millie is anything but).  She got her wish. Lucky me. In the hospital I couldn't get over this chunky baby being mine.

Millie and Grandma came to visit and meet Truman the next morning. My mom had Millie all dolled up and I got choked up seeing my baby suddenly looking so big.

Millie got to push Truman's bassinet from the nursery back to my room. She talked non-stop the whole way. The nurses all got a kick out of her.

Millie had known Truman's name since we had decided on it, even though we hadn't told anyone else. Somehow, that made it seem like he was even more her baby. She was in love with her "Baby Toomey" that she had waited so long to meet.

Our family of four.

I snapped this picture with my phone, and I'm so glad I did. I think it's just about the sweetest thing.

Truman's timing was all wrong, in that my 48 hour discharge time was 8:00 pm. Millie would already be in bed, and we would get home just in time for us to start getting ready for bed. So we did something I thought I'd never do after having Millie. We went home early. (A testament to how much better I was feeling after Truman's birth.) We waited long enough for me to get my massage and the roads to get plowed, then we were off to rejoin the world beyond our cozy cocoon.

My guys. Awwww.

Snuggled up with mom

Our little froggie, ready to go home. Being the second child has some disadvantages, but at least we remembered to pack socks and a blanket for him!

I'm going to take the liberty to speak for Chris, too, when I say that we're so grateful to be a family of four. Nights have been rougher than I remember them being with Millie (see: Truman likes to eat and Two kids can tag team waking up), but it is good to have our two munchkins. Millie loves her brother, and we love them both. We had a lesson on family history recently and I was just so glad to think that both of our children are already sealed to us for forever.

12of12 March

Chris replaced the hard drive in our iMac last night, and Google seems to have gotten over itself with picture uploads, so I'm back! And it feels good. I've missed these little snapshots of our everyday life.

1. A little blog reading to keep myself awake during our second feeding of the night.
2. The night before we'd had a rough night with both Truman (4 feedings) and Millie (up a couple of times), so when the house was still in bed at almost 9:00, it felt like we'd won the lottery!
3. The flash is so bright, but I couldn't resist my sweet boy.
4.  Despite using the same recipe I use, Chris's pancakes cook up way fatter and fluffier. I'm cool with passing the baton and letting him be the pancake cook around here.
5. "Take picka, Millie eat pankey!"
6. Truman's second at-home sponge bath. Think he likes it?
7. After taking my mom to the airport the day before, I made a stop at Trader Joe's and bought a bunch of daffodils to make our house cheery in her absence.
8. Chris tackling the leaky disposal. (Don't worry, he's wearing an orange shirt under his sweatshirt. He wasn't getting into the plumber spirit, like I thought more than once.)
9. Stringing together a cute Easter banner.
10. This girl is suddenly so big. It hurts my heart.
11. Redeeming our Living Social voucher for a new Sam's Club membership.
12. Baby Cow and Millie, sharing a pair of pajamas. And I promise she doesn't go around chewing on medicine syringes, despite the appearances.

Millie Funnies

Miss Chatty Cathy talks nearly nonstop. It makes for some good entertainment.

About a week before I was due we drove past the hospital. I told Millie that's where Baby Truman would be born ("born means coming out of Mom's tummy") and I told her that she was born there, too. We happened to see a mail truck at the intersection of the hospital. Millie is kind of obsessed with mail, and "mail busses." Something got confused in her head and today she told me how "Millie born, mail bus."

We (Grandma, Millie, me) were going somewhere, Millie was sitting in the backseat. She said, "Millie a ganinla." I asked, "What's a ganinla?" "Ganinla means 'ah ah ah ah' (as she pounded her chest)." Gorilla.

She is obsessed with things "shmell good." She will sniff her milk, a wrapper, flowers, blankets, whatever. But the one that really got me was the restroom at Meijer. She sniffed the toilet and declared, "shmell good."

Yesterday Millie was loving on Baby Truman, giving him kiss after kiss. I picked him up and she ran out of his room yelling, "I love Baby Toomey!"

Every night she chooses if she wants to rock with either Chris or myself. Then she tells that person a message for the other. Usually her message is hair, Sophie, Rachel or Emily (three little girls at church). So random.

She will talk to herself in her crib for quite a while before falling asleep and before getting up. The other day I stuck my phone under her door to record her. She was chatting away. "Hymn book. Hymn book green. Hymn book big. Hymn book lots pages. Hymn book singinging." She has the most random things on her mind.

Truman Reading Hartwell

Our sweet little Truman—or "Toomey," as big sister calls him— arrived on Tuesday, March 5 at 8:03 pm. (Apparently my due dates are 5 days too early.) He's our chunker, weighing in at 8 lbs 5 oz and was 20 inches long. He's a doll and we're all completely smitten.

I'm so grateful to have Chris by my side through these life changes. Filling out the paperwork there were lots of questions about paternity, parents being married, etc. I was so glad I didn't have to worry about it. In Truman's short life we've already had a really crappy day and an ER visit. Come to think of it, it was actually the same day. It was overwhelming. And my sweet husband just did what he needed to do to take care of us, inconvenient and messy, all while sleep deprived. Our little family of four is going to be just fine with him at the head.

A huge shout out to my mom who has made the transition from one to two a little smoother. Her and Millie are the best of buds, and it's been so nice to have her holding down the home front. She's taken great care of all of us, and we'll be sad to see her go tomorrow.

On the Bright Side

On the bright side:

•  The slippers I wanted were back in stock, and the 5-10 day shipping ended up being two day shipping (perk of living close to all the shipping distribution sites in Kentucky). I have warm, cozy slippers.
• Millie loves playing at the play place in the mall. Her mom doesn't care for it, but she can spend hours going up the small stairs and down the small slide.
• We had story time yesterday that kept us busy and out of the house all morning.
• I'm still pregnant (one week from today is my due date), so I don't have a small baby.
• The dishwasher needed ran, clothes need washed and dried and dinner needed cooked in the oven.
• We like snuggling together as a family, reading books, telling stories, watching "shows" on phones and playing games while cuddled under blankets.
• I bought a couple space heaters last year on clearance at Target, for our emergency preparedness stash.
• Our house is small.

On the not so bright side:

• It's colder than it's been in a while.
• Our furnace broke yesterday. It blows cold air constantly unless we turn it off at the breaker.

A repairman is coming this afternoon, but until then, we're congregating in the living room with space heaters running full-force. I'd remark on the joys of home ownership, but we've had worse situations while renting, and we weren't in control of it then. So here's to appreciating central air when it works flawlessly.

...And I Cringe

Every time someone tells me or Millie how smart she is, I cringe. I think I've gotten it to a point where I don't visibly cringe, but inside I can't help but wincing. I hate to hear it. (I know, I called her smart in this post. Chris called out my incongruity, but I wasn't saying it to her face, and she can't read yet. She's not that smart— ha!) I hear it more often than I'd like, and from a variety of sources.

I've read lots of studies that show the downside of telling kids they are smart. Yesterday a post went up on DesignMom that put some articles together and summarized them. I highly recommend reading them.

I've also been around a lot of kids who have been told they are smart. (Ahem, our primary...) Some aren't affected much by it, but some of them really develop an attitude and sass about it. They can get pretty obnoxious, mouthy to adults and rude to their peers (not all the time, and not all of them. But some of them sometimes is enough).

So, that's why Millie "practices," "tries" and "works really hard" around here. I know she's not even two, but we're starting it young.

Hammer time

Today Millie and I were discussing Daddy being gone. I told her he was at work. We talked how Daddy works at school, but that he would being coming back. (He had a meeting last night and didn't get home until after she was in bed, and I think it bothered her.)

I asked her what Daddy did at school and she confidently answered, "hammer." Yep, that's it, kid.

Millie at 21 Months

I just have to document how in love we are with our Millie at 21 months. She's funny (not always because she means to be), helpful, smart as a whip, independent and very very social.

Chris asked her what we should name baby brother (we've got nothing) and her answer was "Ball." Ball? "Yeah, kick!" (We have the discussion nearly every diaper change that she can't kick Mom in the belly, but she can kick balls and balloons.) So Baby Brother, watch out.

She is so good about taking off her coat and taking it into her room. And pretty good about picking up her babies at the end of the day to tuck them into bed on her shelf. And putting away pieces when she's done with a puzzle. She loves to help set the table, and wants to be right in the thick of things when we're cooking. Scary because she's almost fallen off her chair perch a couple of times and I reach out to save her... while wielding the chef knife I'm using to chop things for dinner. We've got to find a better situation for her to help with cooking.

She tells us when she's poopy and runs to her room for a diaper change. I keep hoping she will potty-train herself. I'll just keep hoping. She needs to learn to navigate her pants down first.

Chris was passing the Sacrament yesterday at church, so for the first little while it was just Millie and me on our pew. She loves to follow along (play) in the hymn book, so I got her set up and pointed out where we would be singing. "Two-three-one." We knew she knew all her letters, but I had no idea she knew any numbers. She knows most of her colors and shapes, too.

She loves my sister's kids, with a special affinity for Babies "Jue," "Tut" and "Delky," but loves the bigger ones, too. She'll request to FaceTime with them multiple times a day. She'll run down every member in each family. And don't forget "Mawmaw" and "Papa," but we're pretty sure she just uses them to see the puppy, Suki. (She still loves "Addy puppy," the neighbors' dog, too.)

We've gone swimming the past two Friday nights. After the first trip she declared, "pool— MORE!!" She loves splashing, kicking, floating on her back and playing with her ball. When we were leaving this past week, there were two tween girls talking up against he wall. Millie ran up to them, started tapping the one on the back and saying, "Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi!" Little girl.

Yesterday after Sacrament meeting she spotted Heidi, her nursery leader, and headed to her, ready for nursery. I guided her out of the chapel and she spotted Marcella in the hall. She grabbed Marcella's hand and dragged her down to nursery. (I was impressed she knew which of the three nursery doors she was supposed to go in.) And after nursery she was like a superstar to several primary kids, with them all gushing "MILLIE!" as she walked down the hall. Trying to get her out of the church was almost as bad as dragging Grandpa Warren away from all the socialization.

Her vocabulary is exploding and amazes me every day. Last week I went to a doctor's appointment. Chris stayed home with Millie and let me run some errands after I was finished at the doctor. He told her I was at the doctor, and later when she said "mommy, docker?" he told her I was then shopping. She threw a little fit. "Mommy—back! Ninnie shop! Ninnie shop!" She's my little buddy and loves shopping with me. Most of the time I love shopping with her, too.

She likes rubbing and patting my belly while she coos "baaaaaby. Hi baaaby!" Which is cute, until she insists on pulling up my shirt to expose flesh.

All in all, we're pretty much in love.

Nose Checker

I've been MIA. First, Google's blogger upload limits, then a belly-up hard drive on our iMac. (We have everything backed up, thankfully.) And with all that time between posts, this is how I break the silence:

My parents built us an awesome bookshelf door while they were here. The tissues got moved down a shelf when the Valentine decorations went up, and now Millie can reach them. Yesterday she looked up my nose, declared first "ewww" and then "shisshue!" She went to fetch me a tissue. As I wiped and dabbed, she'd peek up and declare "ewww" each time. It had me a little self-conscious.

And then this morning, Chris brought her into our bed to snuggle with us. It was dark, but that didn't stop her from pointing to my nose, looking at it and exclaimed "ewww" again.

It was at this point I completely stopped believing her and figured it's just a ploy to be able to pull a tissue out of the box. Little stink.

Alphabet

Millie is obsessed with the alphabet. She likes these Fisher Price apps I have on my iPod (and will navigate to them all by herself). She loves watching the letters come on the screen and dancing along to the music. And when watching Super Why, she points to the letters like she knows what's going on. It cracks me up, because I'm sure she has some grasp, but she doesn't quite get it yet.

Lately she's been pointing to letters on my shirts (it seems lots of the shirts I wear to bed have a logo and a few letters on the left chest) and singing the alphabet. It sounds a lot like "a e d b d d e e e..."

And just recently she started saying the word "alphabet," though it sounds more like "al-ah-besh." It cracks me up. I think some intensive Letter Factory watching might be in order.

12of12 November

1. She's funny about oatmeal. She either inhales it, or ignores it. When she ignores it, I add some raisins and they're enough incentive to eat it. (She can't avoid the oatmeal when she digs them out with her spoon.)
2. The previous day was 66° and windy. The wind blew in a cold front and our first snow of the season. It didn't last long.
3. Millie has started being a good little helper. Though watching her try to undress herself is more entertainment than help.
4. She loves to lie in the bathtub spacing out until Mom pulls the plug. It makes me wish I had a tub I could lie flat in and be submerged.
5. As I was turning the corner, almost to the store, I realized my wallet was probably not in my purse. Lots of other junk, but no wallet. Back home we go.
6. Made it to Aunt Millie's, with my wallet. Millie refused to get in the cart. Since I was only there for a few loaves of bread, I wondered what it could hurt to let her wander. The cashier took forever, and more than a few packages of buns got manhandled by a certain little girl.
7. Target. I walked in and suddenly started wondering, "What am I here for?" It has that effect. I got what I came for, and splurged on a couple of long-sleeved shirts for Millie. (I figure it's time to take the tank tops out of her drawer.)
8. If we don't have leftovers, I refuse to make separate lunches for the two of us. 2/3 was grown-up. (Millie preferred the hot dog and the lettuce, but shuns squash.)
9. After nap snack. She cheers "booobeh!" whenever she sees the bag.
10. Chris was so excited for dinner, General Tsao's chicken, that he got right to work on it when he came home. Maybe I should put more of his favorites on the menu.
11. She loves to color.
12. Our FHE activity was practicing somersaults. Mom and Baby Brother sat this one out. But everyone laughed a lot.

Thankful for Health

At her 18 month appointment I pointed out a small hernia above Millie's belly button to her doctor. She said it wasn't one she saw enough to be comfortable with it, so she referred us to a pediatric surgeon.

We had her appointment with the surgeon yesterday. (And we didn't mess around, our appointment was with this guy. Who I was quite impressed with, for the record.) Turns our that Millie has an epigastric hernia. Dr. Rescorla said there was no hurry to fix it, but that at some point it might become uncomfortable to her (about 8-15 years old), but if she was having any other type of surgery, he'd fix it while she were under.

We hadn't been too worried about it before the appointment, but it was comforting to have those little creeping worries that can sneak in put to rest. After the appointment I was thinking about having my little girl put under, even if it was just for a small incision and a couple of stitches. I'm so grateful for the health of our family. I was sick this weekend, and Chris was sick earlier this week. I told Chris I was a good nurse, but only for a short, finite amount of time. And our Millie is healthy and developing well. What blessings! It's something I generally take for granted, so I'm taking the time to recognized how blessed we are.

Trick or Treat!

We started our Halloween festivities the Friday before, trick-or-treating downtown. I really like downtown, but we don't make it there often enough.

Millie's duck costume was a hit, though she was called a chicken and Big Bird, both more than once. I like to think that she's really the cutest thing. There are demographics that will give any small child an oooh or ahh (generally moms of older kids, grandmas and teen girls). Then there is a completely different demographic that doesn't seem to notice children. So getting a response from 15 year old boys or smoking tattooed men has to mean something special, right? She was melting hearts right and left.

And with a waddle like that, who can resist her? We topped off that night at the Madsen's annual doughnut party. And this year, we beat the teen boys to the doughnuts and actually got one (or five).


My little duck LOVED Halloween.

Wilsons, Wallins and our ducky

 {Shout out to Kanien for the pictures from Halloween. Darn dead battery.}

She so wanted to be one of the big kids. She would run (waddle) from door to door with them, but always got pushed to the side. As she stood at the door in the crowd she'd be saying "iih or eeet, iih or eet" over and over. She was usually the last one to get her candy, and would frantically be signing "thank you," then take off to the next house. She was in heaven though. The older kids were really good at looking out for her.

I have to say, it was the funnest Halloween I've had in a long time.