This year marked my first full year as a working mamma with a full-time career to handle in addition to raising the kiddos. It’s been a challenge; balancing work and family life is hard, but I’m fortunate to have the two most amazing kiddos and sweetest hubby in the world to support me.

Josh’s job is going well for him to. I dare say he actually loves his job–which is great.  He’s been truly blessed to have landed a career that allows him to endeavor in all his nerdy exploits and get paid for it.

But, of course, our year revolved around those two amazing kiddos of ours. And of course, a big year for them equates to a big, proud year for Mom and Dad.

For starters, both kids are now potty-trained!!!!  That’s right, NO MORE DIAPERS. Ali, our over-achieving two-year old, was fully potty trained by the end of October, with little effort exerted on our parts.  She seemed sort of content to stay in her pull-ups, so one day Josh and I just decided we would do away with them, and she’s been dry ever since.

Both kids are learning SO FAST right now. Xavier recognizes his letter (X) everywhere. He’s started writing his name, recognizes the letters of Ali’s name, my “M,” and can spell “red,” “brown,” “blue,” and “green.”  He colors in the lines of his coloring books, draws most of his shapes perfectly, and is an animal expert.   He’s a budding techie, and is in every way, the duplicate of his father.  He loves cars, trucks, planes and trains, all things Wolverine (or super-hero) related, and building things with Play-Dough.  Xavey is also the single most vocally affectionate person ever.  Over the course of our break, Josh and I have heard “I love you” from him at least once during each of his waking hours, often more. Don’t be fooled by that though-he’s 100% boy, and loves to do all sorts of mischievous things to get him (and Ali) in trouble.

Ali is also learning fast, and super independent. Her approach to everything is, “I do it!”  Ali knows her “A,” and loves singing, dancing, and doing anything with crayons, glitter and glue (who’d a guessed?). She is in most ways, my mini, right down to her incessant desire to have someone play with her hair or rub her back while she’s falling asleep.  She’s truly coming into her own now, and unlike me, is already nurturing her loving side (or maybe just her bossy side, in which case, yes, she’s just like me) by constantly playing with her baby dolls. Ali is our little firecracker, a big ball of beautiful, joyous energy.

Xavey’s big goal for the year is to learn how to do a flip on the trampoline (yeah, the grey hairs are starting to sprout). Ali simply wants to be Picasso and paint some more.

My immediate, easily attainable goal is to get Josh to a concert. He’s roamed around for twenty-six(ish) years now, and still has NEVER been to a concert. We need to remedy this given my love for all things rock.

Long term, our goal is still to get outta Texas.  Northeast, midwest, Pacific northwest. I’m not picky. We just want to be somewhere where our kids can actually enjoy the outdoors. That’s hard to do here, when four to five months of the year temperatures are near or above 100 degrees.

We’ve got one final gallery for the year, with all of our holiday pictures right here.  Enjoy the pictures, and Happy New Year!

Ali is finally willing to sit on the toilet! Of course, if I had anticipated that she would love sitting (and sitting and sitting and sitting) on the potty for ridiculously long periods of time, I might not have been quite so eager to get her potty-trained.

Wait, what? You want to know what I’m talking about? So glad you asked.

Tonight, Josh and I tried again to get Ali to sit on the potty. We did everything we could think of. We told her she would be a “big kid” like Xavey (and Mommy and Daddy (haha)), I put her in a pair of big girl undies and bribed her with lots of new ones… Finally, Xavier had the bright idea to SHOW her. So, she followed him in the bathroom, watched him do his business and then decided to give it a go. (Why won’t he teach her to eat without making a mess?) 

So, Ali hopped up on the potty. Within seconds, she realized that she had a captive audience – me- and took full advantage of it. (Given that she’s not well balanced on a good day while standing with both feet firmly on the ground, leaving her alone to perch precariously on the edge of a too-big potty seemed like a very stupid idea.)  She talked and sang and performed amazing toilet-acrobatics. (Really, who puts their feet on the toilet seat to pee????) After about twenty minutes, and no pee, I was begging her to get down.  Then came the really entertaining parts.

Me: “Ali you can get down now. You tried really hard.”

Ali: “No!  I still goin’ potty like a big boy!!!”

(As a clarification, I did try to convince her, for the ten trillionth time, that she is NOT a boy…. But then she just yelled, so I dropped it. The bathroom is very small, and her cute little voice is not so cute or little when it’s echoing off of the bathroom walls.)

Another five minutes passed, and I asked another question…

Me: “Gator, honey, are you almost done?”

Ali: “I dunnnn-oh! My pee-pee’s still sleepin’ in my belly!”

(After stifling my laughter)Me: “Come on Ali. You’re all done. It’s ok; we’ll try again tomorrow.”

Ali (inspecting what’s been going on in the potty): “No momma! I gotta finish!!!!”

                 *                                      *                                          *                                    *                                              *                                               *

And now you see why I never blog. I spend hours doing things like sitting on the bathroom floor, cheering my kids on as they con me into thinking they’re actually going to go pee. :):)

Anyway, if you’ll forgive my absence, I promise to entertain you for at least the next two minutes and twelve seconds.  As you read along, you’ll quickly realize that I haven’t been slacking in my “off” time… For those of you new to the blogosphere, or simply with memories shorter than our two-year-old daughter’s, let’s have a quick recap.  Josh and I got married right before our senior year of college started, and a little over nine-months later, I popped out a baby boy we dubbed Xavier (also referenced as Xave, Xavey, X, Xave-o-potato, and simply, Potato)…and no, I wasn’t preggo when we got married. Then we moved our brand-new little family a thousand miles from home (being Ohio) to the barren waste land of Texas (which is not at all dissimilar to my theories about what Hell must be like).  Eleven months after Xavier was born (yes, he wasn’t even a year old yet), Ali made her debut.  You read that right. Before our second anniversary, Josh and I had somehow managed to produce two healthy, beautiful, intelligent, crazy kidletts, move across the country, and not kill each other.   Our sanity has suffered, but we’re way more fun because of it.

So… back to our amazing kids – the sole reason for my disappearance from most things I used to enjoy, but totally worth it.  Worth the kajillion dirty diapers (and dollars spent on the aforementioned diapers), sleepless nights,  stretch marks, cesarean sections (plural), and times I nearly peed my own pants.    Xavier and Ali are three and two now, and they are constantly entertaining us with their little pearls of wisdom and their amazingly insightful comments.

Without further ado, I present to you the following quotes, retellings, and stories about our kiddos from the past few months.

Xavier

This is the most recent story I have to tell you about X.  It’s a little gruesome, really hysterical, and kind of morbid. Enjoy.

Right after I finished singing, “My Sunshine” to Xavier, he reached over and put his hand on my face, and snuggled his stuffed hippo, Owen, under my arm. Then he grabbed his stuffed little lion and gave him a big hug.  I had been so amazed by the cuteness of the moment that when he actually opened his mouth, I was shocked.

“Mommy,” he looked into my eyes and patted my cheek, making sure I was looking into his big green eyes. He sucked in a deep breath, and continued.  “I gotta kill a dog.”

Our cute moment came to a screeching halt as I stuttered and stammered for words, appalled and shocked at the words my three-year-old was saying.  “No, Xavey, we don’t kill dogs. That’s not nice!” I spewed the words out, trying to think of a way to convince him that his idea was very, very bad.

“But mommy, I gotta!” he assured me.  I started to object again, when he continued, explaining himself. “”I gotta kill the doggie so he’ll lay in my bed with me and not move like my Owen and my lil’ lion.”  Finally, the wheels in my head started turning (backwards maybe?), and I could finally understand what Xave was really trying to say.

 …Yes, folks. My son thinks his stuffed animals are actually dead creatures. Maybe I’ll save the neighbors labs from whatever fate Xave is dreaming up, and just go buy him a stuffed dog before it’s too late.

Ali

Ali-gator is such a goof, and more than anything,  she just wants to be exactly like Xavier…

The other day, Xavier and Ali were in the bathtub (together, because they’re siblings, they’re little, and I’m hard-pressed for time), when she stood up and declared herself.

“Mama, I a BOY!” she screeched happily.

Of course, being older and wiser, Xavier objected to her statement vehemently. “You’re not a boy Ali. I’m a boy and YOU are a gerrr-uhl.” (Funny how even at three, he can make certain words sound like expletives.) And of course, when challenged by her big brother, Ali rose to the occasion.

“No!! I A BOY!” she hissed, splashing water everywhere.  I was about to intercede, when Xavier steered their match in a most humorous direction. In a flash, he was standing beside Ali, pointing to his pee-pee.

“No, Ali. I am a boy, you are a girl. MINE is OUT, YOURS is IN. MINE’S OUT, I’m a BOY!!! You’re a girl,” he declared victoriously. I have no idea what I said at this point, because I was trying so hard not to die laughing.

Ali looked at Xavier, and then glanced at her own situation. Then she examined more carefully, and for a minute I thought she might cry when she was unable to find her “out” parts.

Finally, Ali looked up, indignant and sure of her word. “No, Ver-ver [trans:Xavier].  I a boy too. My pee-pee’s just breaked.” And with that she grinned a happy little smile and plopped back down in the water.

I promise, I’ll update this more, with the rest of the cute stories I’ve reserved for this special occasion.

Now, for those of you who don’t know what Knuffle Bunny is, let me explain. Knuffle Bunny and Knuffle Bunny, Too are Ali’s favorite books. She literally makes us read them to her every single night. The premise is that the main character (a little girl named Trixie) has a bunny (named Knuffle). Knuffle goes everywhere with Trixie, much like Wrigley accompanies Ali everywhere she goes. The stories are super cute and fun to read.  You can pick them up at Barnes and Noble-the author is Mo Willems.

Anyway, Knuffle Bunny turned out pretty well. (I won’t begin to describe the painstaking amount of time and effort I put into this cake. It seriously made me sad to have cut into him!!!) Ali recognized her Knuffle Bunny right away, and was soooo excited. We’ll post more pictures soon, but for now, this is what you get.

Update: Photo album is up right here.

Knuffle.

Ali and Knuffle

Pebbles and Bam-Bam… Monsters from “Monsters, Inc.”

This year, Halloween included costume changes for the kiddos.  For their school parties (and parade) on Friday, I made them little Pebbles and Bam-Bam costumes to wear. Josh and I decided that their monster costumes would not only be too hot to wear all day, but if you’ve seen Ali try to walk in hers–with it’s big padded belly–you’d understand that it would have been a disasterous day at preschool.

That said, this year we got some awesome pictures of our kiddos, in their various costumes. They must’ve looked pretty cute, because each came home with their pumpkin buckets overflowing with candy. (Really, I have no idea what we’re going to do with all of it!!)  I know for a fact that I never got that much candy when I was trick-or-treating, but apparently it’s hard to say “No” to the two cutest little monsters ever.  (Prepare yourself for a tangent here…)Ali even milked her way into more candy. At one of the first houses we went to, the family had a little bitty dog (I mean, teeeeeeeeeeeeeeny), and it stood by its owners legs as she opened the door to dole out the goods to Xavier and Ali.  Ali took one look at the little ”cat” as Xavier called it and burst into tears and cried so hard that her little body violently shook. The lady who owned the dog felt so bad that she dropped like 10 pieces of candy into Ali’s bucket, and then a whole handful more just to make her smile.  Then she did the same thing for Xavier, because “They’re just so darn cute.”

Later, Ali fell (her belly threw her balance off) and practically landed on the feet of this sweet old lady. The poor old lady also felt bad and loaded Ali up with candy. Josh and I kind of joked that this would just be Ali’s system and she left with her bucket almot half full from that woman’s house.l

Not to be outdone, Xavier would walk up to people’s door, and act really shy. Then they’d lean over, drop a couple pieces of candy into his bowl.  Then he’d turn on the charm, and finally look at them, and go “Mooooore peeeeeeeeeeeeez.” …And of course, no one could resist. My little con-arist (who is not in the least bit shy in real life) would then practically yell thank you to whomever he had just suckered into giving him way more candy than they shouldv’e, turn as fast as he could, and with a big grin on his face say, “More houses-more candy Mommy!”

Haha. It was a fun, fun night.  Pictures in the gallery.

Now, as a woman who has been pregnant twice, I see a couple of problems with Lindsay’s concern.  First, and most obviously, is that Bristol Palin is five months pregnant.  Any day now, she’s going to start looking the part, and if Governor Palin had denied the story what would she say?  “No, I’m sorry. She’s just gotten fat.”  Maybe a better answer would be, “Yes, she is pregnant, and I lied to all of you.”  That’s not what anyone needs.  Not only was it wise of Palin to be up-front with the people who will be voting on whether or not to elect her and Senator McCain, it was admirable.  There are enough people in the world who are willing to lie to get ahead, save face, or make a name for themselves.

The next problem goes right along with the first.  In four months there will be a baby to be accounted for.  If, by some miracle, the Palin family was able to hide Bristol’s pregnancy the entire nine months, there would still be a baby one day.  Then what? Would Lindsay, purveyor of all knowledge, prefer we’d all just turned our eyes from Bristol’s burgeoning belly until then?

Far be it for Lindsay Lohan to turn on her brain before she turned on her computer and blessed us with her “thoughts.” (As if she really has any.) In the same blog, she writes that all she keeps hearing about is Sarah Palin’s pregnant teen daughter, and that “Its (her grammar error, not mine) distracting from the real issues, the real everyday problems that this country experiences.” 

First, let’s point out the obvious. Sarah Palin is not the one drawing attention to her daughter’s pregnancy.  Whether they work for E!, the New York Times, or some Podunk, small town weekly, it is instinctive for every journalist to find a story, spin it, and sell it.  Just like everyone else, journalists need to get paid, and honey, digging up dirt on Sarah Palin’s doe-faced, 17-year-old daughter is certainly a good way to do it.  (I have some authority on this; just look at my degree.)  Palin was wise to publicly acknowledge Bristol’s pregnancy now.  Denying it or avoiding it weren’t solutions—no one likes a liar, and let’s face it, the truth would get out eventually.  I’m surprised that Lohan is so quick to blame Palin, when she’s been in the news so often, whining and complaining about the paparazzi that stalk her and the magazines that misquote her.

Now let’s delve into the bigger issue with Lindsay’s journey into the blogosphere.  Again, to quote the genius that is Lindsay Lohan, “Its distracting from the real issues, the real everyday problems that this country experiences.”  Really, Lindsay? What might those problems be?  Could you please, please tell me what problems you’ve experienced today?  I’m certain that the problems that those of us who live in the real world experience aren’t the same as the ones that trouble you.  You see, as a country, we’re experiencing economic distress, because too many people want to give too much to people who don’t do anything.  They say, let’s make those people who work hard for their money (and no, going to a club to promote your next crappy album doesn’t count as work) shell out just a little more, so that those people who don’t work can also have insurance and houses and cable, and so that those with over-bloated bank accounts (that one does include you) can just continue to sit there, and make more money. 

Those of us who live in the real world face problems like trying to pay the mortgage and daycare in the same week.  We normal, average people here in the real world struggle to keep marriages together, and to raise happy, healthy, well-adjusted kids.  We as a country, struggle to uphold and maintain the Godly values this country was founded on, in principle and in purpose.  You, and everything you stand for, mock all of that.  You “work,” but really, you party and play with your girlfriend.  You have “problems”, but really, your problem is that you don’t appreciate anything you have and you aren’t wise enough to realize that the real problem our country faces is people like you.

From now on, stick to what you’re good at, and go find yourself a nice club to party in. Leave the singing to someone who can carry a tune, and the acting to any girl that can smile and actually looks good blonde. 

I love you too.

…Yesterday was no exception.

Xavier’s friend Aston had his second birthday party yesterday and we all went over to the Hopmann’s house to celebrate.  We were welcomed inside, and quickly made our way out to the backyard, so the kids could splash around in the baby pools Marc and Casey had set up for them to enjoy.  Everyone, including Ali, was having a blast (though completely ignoring the mini-water park) just enjoying the warm weather.

And then it happened.

Ty, the Hopmann’s dog, came outside to greet everyone. Now, as far as I can tell, Ty is just your run-of-the-mill good natured mutt.  He’s not particularly slobbery, large, or eager to make nice with anyone’s leg.  As far as dogs go, he’s A-OK in my book, and that’s saying a lot. It’s no secret that I’m not the world’s biggest fan of animals.  They’re great at a zoo or an aquarium, where I can observe them from afar and move on in two minutes after their initial cuteness wears off and all I’m left noticing is their smell and foul mannerisms.  Dogs are ok, as long as they’re outside animals that actually resemble what I feel to be canine:  big, furry, and loyal with barks that terrify any would-be-offenders, and are generally low-maintence.  Cats annoy me with their aloofness but constant need for everything, and fish tend to die a little too quickly.  Rodents gross me out, and reptiles scare me.  In general, I’m good with the concept of having a dog, and not much else.  I’m just not an animal person.

And this trait of mine comes from a recessive gene.  As far as I can tell, the majority of people love animals. My hubby, bless his heart, tries to hate them for my sake, but I get the feeling he’s really pining away for the day when Xavier asks for a cat or dog.  Xave-o LOVES all things animal.  He enjoys trips to the zoo, his favorite books, puzzles and movies all feature various members of the animal kingdom, and one of his favorite activities is making sounds like his favorite animals (currently dogs, pigs and monkeys).

So, you can imagine my surprise when, upon Ty’s initial entrance on Saturday, Ali burst into tears.  The dog was no where near her, but still, her little body shook and her cries began to sound more like angry demands for Ty to go back to where ever he came from and get far away from her.  This little outburst was repeated, with greater volume and intensity, as each of the Hopmann pets made themselves known to Ali.   Poor Josh took Ali into Marc and Casey’s bedroom to change her diaper, and everyone in the living room was treated to another round of screaming and tears.  I thought maybe she had a dirty diaper and was mad about having to get changed.  When Josh finally emerged from the room, he looked dazed.  “All of that,” he titled his head toward the bedroom, “was because their was a cat sitting like six feet from her.”

… So, animals beware, take cover, and hide.  Indoor pets, make nice with the outdoors, because when Ali comes near, you’ll want to escape from the pitchy screams that I’m certain must shred your eardrums in two.

My daughter folks, Ali-gator, animal-hater.

Happy birthday to you.

We love you so much.

Meg, Xave & Ali

Later, gators.

If I could pace and type at the same time, I would.

I’ve dreamed about this job. I’ve prayed about it. I want it so badly.

But, I know that no matter how badly I want it, if God doesn’t want it for me, then I won’t get it. And I think I’m okay with that. Pastor’s sermon on Sunday might as well have been him sitting me down for a nice, long chat. In a nut shell, he told everyone that God will open doors where He wants them open, and He’ll close the ones that need to be shut. In short, God will show us, if we’re willing to pay attention, what direction He wants us to move in. So, I’m trying to faithfully wait. Right now, I feel like I’m standing in a hallway full of doors, and all of them are shut. I’m just waiting for God to open one for me.

So, if you’re reading this, please keep me in your prayers. Pray that God will provide me with a good, full time job. One that lets me use my degree. …And if you would, pray that He’ll open a door, and that He’ll be very obvious about it, because I don’t want to miss my opportunity.

Thanks.

I am a fish killer. An accidental, but continual killer of fish. This is my plight.

Poor Grunt never stood a chance. From the day we brought him home, the little guy just wouldn’t eat. He’d swim around his little bowl, he’d swish his blue tail, and he’d pretend to be interested as Xavier carefully dropped food into his bowl each day. …But Grunt never ate. Perhaps he had a preexisting condition, an ongoing battle with anorexia perhaps, but just the same, the little guy starved. Unfortunately, fish don’t talk. They don’t come with medical records or psychiatric evaluation papers. They don’t say, “Don’t buy me, I’m on the brink of death!” as you carefully place them in your shopping cart and let your son get all excited.

Strike one, Meg. Strike one.

Poor Xave-o realized Grunt was no long in his bowl shortly after Josh had flushed the fishy. So, to be a good mommy, I thought I’d just pick up a goldfish when I got groceries. Certainly a goldfish could survive in our house. The information on them says they’re hearty eaters, so that squelched any fears I had about bringing home another pet with an eating disorder. I carefully inspected the bright orange specimens swimming in the take, and picked out the liveliest, brightest one of the bunch. I picked up some goldfish food and was on my way.

Fish number two, or Grunt Jr., as I’d affectionately named him, didn’t even make it home. As I presented Josh with the fish so we could transfer him into the bowl, I noticed that the fish had pulled a Nemo. Grunt Jr. was sideways, nearly upside down in the bag of water. Josh, Mark, and Steph had a good laugh at my misfortune, and after an unsuccessful attempt to revive the fish with food and fresh water, Grunt Jr. was also sent to meet his maker.

Strike two.

I should’ve known better. Nothing in my past suggests that I have any ability at all to care for an animal. I had three, yes three betas in the past, and all of them died. One ate itself to death. He ate and ate and ate, until his little fishy self could contain no more, and then popped open at the seams in his bowl. (Ironic huh?) The other suffered a casualty during a water change, and was mortally wounded in the drain of a sink. The other fish, was much like Grunt Jr, and lived for a day. The cause of death is still unknown.

These poor fish. It’s all my fault. I was not created with the capacity to care for living beings that cannot communicate their needs to me. Next time, we’re getting a dog.

We’d like to introduce you to the fifth member of our family. About a week ago, we ventured out to Wal-Mart, in a desperate attempt to spend more time together as a family. I’ve been convinced for the past month or so that Xavier thinks mommy and daddy aren’t allowed to be home at the same time. So, on Thursday evening, when Josh and I were both at home, the last thing I wanted to do was go get groceries and leave my sweet family. …So, we all went. We loaded up the Jeep, popped the kids into two seperate carts, and made our rounds at the grocery store.

I say that like our trip to Wally-Word was a quick one. It wasn’t. We strolled, we caused traffic jams, and oh yeah–we got a fish.

Since the kids were being so good, and we had (stupidly) dragged them out right around dinner time, Josh and I thought we should let them go see the fishies so they’d be entertained for awhile. We probably stood in front of the tanks with Xavier pointing and going “unhGRUISunnnnnnh!” for ten minutes before he spotted the betas. With my excited child trying to escape the cart’s restraints, I quickly wheeled him over to see the betas. Before I could stop him, Xavier had his hands around one of the little plastic containers, and was peering devilishly at the little creature inside. He looked up at me with his big, beautiful eyes and a slow smile creeped over his face as he turned around quickly and desided to drop the container into the cart.

It was decided. We were not leaving Wal-Mart without a fish. …Obviously not that fish. I do believe that particular fish suffered from shaken-fishy-syndrome and wouldn’t have been with us very long. So, we let Xave-o pick out a new fishy (this time mommy prevented any animal cruelty), Josh picked out an aquarium and we were set.

Once we got home, we set about the task of transferring Grunt into his fishy habitat. Xavier dragged his potty-chair (the one he’s now scared of… He stood up too fast, and WHOOPS, caught his pee-pee on the cup. Sorry, tangent.) out to the kitchen and stood on it, watching closely as Josh moved the fish into his new bowl.

“Xavey what do you want to name the fishy?” I asked, half expecting him to call the fish ball, cup, more, or aheee.

“Gwwwwwwwwuuuuuh,” my child practically growled.

“What?” was my stunned reply?

“Gwwwwwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnuuuuh!!!!!!” he said, now excited and pointed at the fish. I almost checked his pants to make sure the sound he was making wasn’t an indication that he’d filled his pants.

“Grunt?? You want to name the fishy Grunt.”

And with that, Grunt was named. You’ve never seen such an excited 21-month-old. He bounced up and down on his potty-chair, pointing at the fishy. He ran circles, he stared at the fish some more. And at the end of the evening, Xavier formally initiated Grunt.

“Give mommy and daddy hugs; it’s night-night time Xavey.” He did. Then he hugged Ali and ran over to the bowl where Grunt was just hanging out. Then he waved night-night to “Gwwwwwwwwwwwwuuuuuuu” and went to bed.

Fantastic huh? At least the fish doesn’t stink. Or poop (that I can see). Or need walked or otherwise taken care of at all really. Or make noise. For me, the non-animal person, Grunt is the perfect pet. Josh agreed to remember to change his water and feed him, so we’re golden. And, should Grunt meet that big toilet bowl in the sky too soon, I happen to know where we can find a wide array of betas to carry on the Grunt legacy.

(An update totally on Ali will follow soon. She’s awesome! She climbs on everything, doesn’t listen when Josh tells her no, and eats everything in her path. She’s the sweetest, funniest, cutest little girl ever. I’ll dedicate an entire post to her before this time next week and get some pictures to go with it. )

Without further ado, an update.

One Saturday, two or three weeks ago, I was at work (what else is new), and Josh was at home with the wee-lings. Before I continue with this story, I should mention that it was sunny and almost 80 degrees here, in Fort Worth, in NOVEMBER. With that in mind, my hubby decided to open the windows and enjoy the breeze. He opened all of our floor-to-ceiling windows, and he and the kids played inside, enjoying the fresh air blowing through the house. I came home to a sunny house and happy kids. Five points for Josh.

I remember coming home, thinking to myself “I guess 80′s not so bad,” and then talking with Josh for a few minutes about my day. After some small talk, I started wondering where Xavier had wandered off to. Our bedroom door was open, and since our room is one of Xave’s favorite hangouts, I figured I’d find him in there.

I went through our room and continued into the bathroom because I thought I heard Xave-o in there. As I entered the room, I breathed a sigh of relief. “There he is,” I thought, all the while, something about finding him wasn’t registering right with my brain. My relief quickly turned to (pointless) panic as I realized where my son was. Xavier was standing there, OUTSIDE, in the backyard, in his diaper, happily giggling at me. The screen was laying on the ground, where (I presume) it had landed after Xavier pushed it out of the window to get outside.

Minus 10 points for Josh. Minus like 500 trillion points for Texas and its stupid 80-degree Novembers.

In all fairness, no one was hurt. Xavier though it was hilarious that he escaped and fortunately, he escaped into our fenced in back yard. Mommy’s heart pounded a little harder than it was probably designed to, but oh well. From now on, our windows stay shut.

The next update has to do with Ali-gator. She is officially a(n) (army) crawling machine. Sorry for all the parenthetical phrases, but I don’t want to mislead you. The girl is mobile, no doubt about it. But she is completely unpredictable. I have recorded evidence of her actually crawling, and she’s done it a few times since, but most of the time she still army crawls. I got all excited right after she crawled for the first time, but I think my joy might have been premature. She does what she wants, when she wants, and doesn’t seem to care whether or not she makes mommy look like a liar. Oh well.

(PS, Xavier HATES that she crawls. She’s able to get into his food and stuff like that and he gets so mad. Apparently, we need to work on sharing.)

We did Christmas here yesterday, since we’ll be super busy this coming weekend, and the following weekend we’ll be in Ohio. (YAY!) The kids had a blast, and I think it probably took us almost two hours to open presents. Xavier and Ali had to stop and play with each present before moving on to the next one. I think the opening could have lasted all day if we hadn’t moved things along. The morning went well, the kids got some cute presents and both seemed to really enjoy all of us being together… There was only one thing out of the ordinary.

Xavier is terrified of one of his presents. He absolutely loves the Backyardigans, specifically Pablo the Penguin, so Josh and I thought it’d be great to get him a singing, dancing Pablo for Christmas. Pablo is pretty cute. He’s bright blue and he sings the Backyardigans theme song and plays “Pablo Says.” Not scary at all. Not to me, not to Josh, and not to Ali (who, by the way, completely adores the toy penguin). Apparently though, the singing or the dancing or both are too much for Xavier. He nearly cried when we turned Pablo on yesterday and even ran away from it. I tried to get Xavey to touch Pablo, and instead he ran behind me and hid. Even now, despite seeing how much Ali likes him, Xavier won’t go near Pablo. (Cindy, you should post your story about Kermit and Josh. Prove that my baby gets his wimpy-streak honestly. )

And now for our final update. Xavier got an easel for Christmas. We got him paint and markers and magnets to go with it. I, however, forgot to get any chalk for the chalkboard side and this morning Xavier wanted to play with it. I suddenly remembered he had all kinds of sidewalk chalk on the back porch, so I went outside to grab the chalk and shut the door behind me. I knew that if Xavey came outside too, we’d be out there all morning, and it was too cold for Ali to be out today. As I was bending down, picking up the chalk I heard Xavier messing by the door, but I just figured he was trying to get outside. Then I heard the sound that no mother wants to hear.

I rushed to the door and tried to open it. The door didn’t move. I tried again, no dice. I started knocking on the glass, yelling for Xavier to open the door. Instead he smiled, turned around and grabbed his sippy cup. Then he wandered over to Ali and sat down by her, and they started playing with her Singing Star Stage we got her for Christmas. I was completely stumped. My phone was inside. My keys were inside. The doors, the windows, I keep them all locked, all the time.

So I kept knocking. I finally regained Xavier attention and after what seemed like forever he came back over and unlocked the door. I’ve never been so happy to come back inside.

Whewwwwwww. Thank goodness. I’m positive that Josh never would have let me live that one down.

And, with that… I’m done with updates. Take care.

This year was an entirely different story. Right before Halloween, we all came down with the flu, so we didn’t know whether or not the kids would even be able to go. Thankfully, we all recovered pretty quickly and with just a couple days left on the calendar, we made our way to Children’s Place and found the cutest, matching costumes ever. Both bambinos were dressed as baby ducklings (NOT CHICKENS!!!) and looked adorable. The costumes were all fluffy and had padding in the middle to make Xavier and Ali look round(er). People kept telling us how cute our little girls were all night long…We’re pretty sure that once Xavier gets older and sees the pictures, he’ll hold it against us for the rest of our lives.

So, we set out from our little house with two baby ducklings nestled in our big red Radio Flyer wagon. Both duckies were happily settled, comfortable in their ridiculously hot costumes in the eighty-degree weather. For one brief fleeting moment, it seemed the night would be peaceful, stress-free completely enjoyable. …And then the mayhem ensued.

Once we started going up to houses, Xavier quickly learned how to hold his little pumpkin bucket up and pick out some candy. He ran from the sidewalk up to the doorways without us even having to direct him. A lot of people just dropped candy into his pumpkin, but every once in awhile someone would let Xavier pick his own piece of candy. And then the judgement would begin as Xavier would pick through the candy slowly and meticulously, just to assure that he found the largest piece he could. Then he’d look up at the kind sugar-bearer, slowly drop his find into his bucket, and then he’d turn around and book it back down the driveway and to the next house. It was hilarious to watch, especially given that his little ducky hat would bob as he ran, and his wings would flap. Also hilarious was the sight of our little boy, running around in tights… Yes, that’s right. Tights.

Despite being hauled around in the wagon all evening, Ali seemed to enjoy most of our outing. She would smile as people complimented her costume, grin as they said how pretty she was… and then scream and cry when she finally pooped. Once her diaper was dirty the only way to keep her from crying was to carry her. So, for a while, it seemed Josh got the short end of the stick and had to carry Ali, while pulling he wagon, and I got to follow after Xavier. Just as I was about to gloat… It happened. Xavier ran out of steam. It was almost bedtime, and he’d just run the toddler-equivalent of a 5k race. And since Josh was already carrying Ali, and Xavier wanted held, I got to carry the other baby duckling the rest of the way home. (It kind of sounds like the ending to a cute little story huh?)

It was perfect. I know… I made it sound like a crazy night-and it was-but that’s just the way we like things around here.

Enjoy the pictures.

_______________________________________________________________________