Juke Box Hero

Standing in the rain
with his head hung low

Couldn't get a ticket
It was a sold out show.
Heard the roar of the crowd
he could picture the scene.

Put his ear to the wall
then like a distant scream.
He heard one guitar
just blew him away

Saw stars in his eyes
and the very next day.
Bought a beat up six string in a secondhand store
Didn't know how to play it
but he knew for sure

That one guitar
felt good in his hands.
Didn't take long to understand.
Just one guitar
slung way down low

Was a one-way ticket
only one-way to go.
So he started rockin' ain't never gonna stop

Gotta keep on rockin'
Someday he's gonna make it to the top.

And be a Juke Box Hero got stars in his eyes
He's a Juke Box Hero.
                                               --FOREIGNER
 
 

Life is like a load of laundry.  Some days you have those nice small loads that you can bundle up and tuck under one arm while cradling a sleepy baby in the other arm, prance down the stairs, while singing lullabies with a smile on your face.  You toss in the garments one by one, lay the baby down to sleep.  Before the baby rouses, the laundry is washed, dried, folded, and bonus! put away.  Your husband doesn't even know you have done the laundry that day because there is no proof of it laying around.  His clothes are just magically in his closet for the next day's risings.  You even have energy to put some lipstick on before he pulls in the driveway.  

But some days are like those mountainous loads that you cannot carry in your arms.  You throw the basket on the floor and start doing deadlifts to lunge the smelly fabrics from the hamper to the basket.  Up and down, up and down, stuffing every small piece of laundry in the crooks and cracks of the basket until it is about to explode. By the time you have just transferred your laundry, you feel like you have cleaned the whole house, and you haven't even managed to get it in the washer yet.  You lug the basket downstairs while the babies are not as happy, fighting over the red block, wanting milk, using the potty.  Instead of singing those quiet and calming lullabies, you are belting out each and every nursery rhyme you know, and the ones you don't know, making words up as you go.  You get the washing machine packed to the rim, look down, and there are still two shirts and a pair of pants stuffed in the basket.  With sweat wrapping your forehead and panting your breath, you say outloud, "Will it fit?" and take a half-second break to think. But in that half-second break, the kids start bellowing out their cries, so you start singing at the top of your lungs again and forget what it was you were trying to figure out.  You automatically bend over, and stuff the rest of the garments into the washing machine.  Take a big breath, walk out to the unhappy toddlers, shutting the door behind you, thankful to have a 26 minute window to sit down and play with the kids.  

But it isn't over yet.  You look around the corner and you see a sock on the floor.  It must've fallen out when you were skidding on the hardwoods to get the laundry room as quickly as possible.  You bend over, holding onto your aching back and take it back to the already-too-full washer. Lift the lid, drop it in, and let the lid down with a clang.  Another deep breath, heading to the playroom, and you see another daggum sock.  This time you decide you better trace your steps back to the hamper to see what all you have dropped.  To no surprise, it's enough for another load of laundry.  But there's no time for another load of laundry.  You stuff those remaining pieces in the machine as well, praying that the machine won't walk out on it's own with the banging going on in there.  You breathe a huge sigh of relief when you hear your husband walk through the door at the end of the day, and while handing over a screaming baby and leaving the potty training toddler in the bathroom, you look up at him with your hair frazzled like a great 80s band, and manage to grunt out the words, "I did the laundry today" as you spin around to head to the potty yourself for some "me" time.  

Those are not bad days, by any means. They are just the days when you can't catch up. It's just like finding socks and undies under the dining room table, in the bathroom sink, and in the middle of the foyer when they should actually be in the washing machine.  Those days feel like a bunch of randomness.  And today I'm collecting those random socks.  Pulling them together in an attempt to catch up.  

 

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So many new things going on here.  The synapses in Chad's mind are firing quicker than fireworks on New Year's Eve.  He is moving objects from one container to the other, associating similar colors and shapes, walking by holding on to just one finger, and beginning to point to certain things.

He is also learning to love golf, or at least to chew on the tees.

He is growing up so quickly.  This year has been an incredible year of our lives and while it is exciting that he is growing up and learning new things, it is so sad that he is no longer classifed as a "baby."  He fell asleep in my arms the other day and instead of taking him to his crib, I laid him down in the boppy for old times' sake.  He just looked so peaceful and sweet.  And he has grown up entirely way too much.  I am amazed that this 21 pound chunker used to be under 10 pounds. (Notice the position of his left hand, this is his "comfort" hold).

(One month old)

We are also working on weaning.  Even though he isn't happy about the prospect, he sure is cute drinking out of a bottle.
 

Cari is also in the throes of potty training, but she is doing incredibly well, I might say.  We struggled with it for a while and finally threw our hands up in surrender and told her it was completely up to her. A few months later, she started asking to go. We have never had to set a timer or asked her to sit on the potty.  She tells us when she needs to go and heads off to the bathroom.  Often times when we realize how quiet it is and go looking for her, we will find her on the potty taking care of business.  She is impressive to say the least.
 

 

The past few weeks have been full of fun.  Lots of randomness, but fun randomness at that. 
 

 
We visited a Fall Festival with friends and saw some fire trucks, zoomed down large slides, rode on a train, pretended to get tattoos, and went on some pony rides.
 

 
 
I was also lucky enough to be able to visit the hospital to meet our newest little friend, Drew, who was born on Wednesday, November 17.  He is such a snuggler, just like Chad was.  Congratulations Bill and Kristy!
 

 

Trick or Treat!

Trick or Treat, Smell my feet
Give me something good to eat!
If you don't, I won't be sad,
I'll just make you wish you had!
                                           --MONTY HARPER

I know. I know. I KNOW. I am way behind on getting some Halloween Trick or Treating pictures up. We have been knee deep in chaos and neck deep in paint for the past few weeks.  We are finally finished painting and are now at the stage of getting everything back into place. It's really difficult to teach your two year old that it isn't right to climb over the armrest of the sofa to sit on the cushion when that's the only way to get to it. We had our entire den shoved to the middle of the room, with everything touching, for days.  Alas, the paint is done. 

But that's for another post.....to come....probably later.

Anyways, here are the Halloween pictures.  Since this is so late, it will probably be short on words and long on pictures.  Both kids had a blast. Cari surprisingly remembered this event from last year and knew exactly what to do.  She started asking about trick or treating the instant she woke up on Sunday morning.  It was a long day, waiting until the sun set that night. 

Both kids dressed up in their little costumes and set out with their pumpkins, with lots of space to fill up with yummy, delicious, addicting, and terrifying sugary treats.  But what fun it is to knock on random doors and have people give you stuff, right? How can that ever be un-fun?

We saw lots of sights, tasted many candies, passed many friends out in the street.  Chad was as happy as he could be, in someone's arms or on shoulders, passing others high and bye, except for passing by scary skeletons!

Cari has asked every day since Halloween when she can go trick or treating again. I finally told her that she won't go again until she is three years old. So now she thinks she is having a Trick or Treat birthday party. Every day, she says to me, "Mommy, when I turn frweeeeee, we will go trick or treating, okay?" So, if you are around in March for her birthday, we may set out on a gruesome adventure!