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Cooper is turning into a little person.     You know, babies are just kind of delicious little blobs when they first come out, then they morph into funny little creatures who giggle and coo and laugh, then suddenly one day you realize that they actually might be thinking something.

Today Cooper went past the “Waaa!   You took my toy away!” milestone and entered the “Hey Mom!   I’m tired of this silly rattle.   Give me something good!” milestone.   I had set him in the floor with some toys while I colored with Kenny a few feet away.   Cooper, who is moments away from a crawl, rolled and pulled himself over to the coffee table where we were coloring.   He pushed up on his hands and reached with all his might to the lower shelf where a little board book that I’ve read to him a few times had been set, grasped it, pulled it down and then squealed with delight.   Then he looked at me and said, “Dada!”   (This translates of course into “Dearest Mum, will you read this delightful book to me please?”)   “Cooper!   Do you want to read that book?”   He giggled and tried to pull himself into my lap.   I complied and set him on my legs and read the book a few times through.   Then he rolled off and went after one of Kenny’s crayons.

Busy though I may be, I was so excited to see that he’s starting to think, you know?   He can’t talk, but he figured out how to communicate to me what he wanted to do.   Not only that, but he wanted to   do something specific.   He’s a genius.

… but not for long.   Cooper, Casey and I all got adjusted at the chiropractor today so the end is surely in sight for this nasty week of illness we’ve been consumed by.   I realize that my last post was not only boooooring, but way too graphic in regards to the vomiting details, so let’s move on, and say only in closing that we are slowly getting better from the Virus of Nastiness that has plagued our castle.

On to something new:

Cooper is FINALLY getting his first tooth!   It’s taking it’s time coming in, which has been agony on the little bugger.   He does enjoy playing with it with his tongue, when it’s not causing him to melt into a puddle of tears.

Kenny has learned to dress himself completely – from socks to unders and everything in between.   It was purely self-defence: Casey and I were so sick over the weekend that he was pretty much left to his own devices, and I guess at some point getting dressed was on his agenda.   In fact, on Sunday after putting Cooper down for a nap, Casey and I both fell asleep – I think we each thought the other had Kenny – and Kenny played completely unattended for two hours.   He took streamers and party hats and decorated the living room for a party that he then imagined and entertained himself with.   Who needs cartoons, I ask you!  

We are headed off to a vacation of sorts this week as well.   We are flying down to Florida to visit with Casey’s parents, and Casey himself will be going to a business conference in Vegas for a week while Kenny and I teach Cooper how to surf and get a tan.   Yee Haw.   We have a sweet newly wed couple to   house-sit for us, and they are bringing their new puppy.   This will either be a really really fun week for Dudley, or a really really awful one for the puppy, I haven’t yet decided.

My next order of business is to think of something more interesting than a laundry list to blog about before all of you faithful readers give up on me.   I actually have a stack of new books to review and another contest give-away to orchestrate.     I need to get busy.    But, alas,  Prince Cooper calls to me from his crib…. “Mamamamamamamamamamamaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa….”

Since my last post, we have had some drama around here.   It all started when Casey went out of town for four days.   Ok, that wasn’t the start of the drama, just the backdrop.   It really started when, Tuesday afternoon, Kenny started projectile vomiting all over the bathroom.   He did make it to the toilet, but not exactly in the toilet, which was pretty messy, but the effort was a gallant one.   I thought it was some bad milk he’s had (he found a sippy cup from the morning with some warm chocolate milk in it), so I let his tummy rest and then gave him a bland dinner.  

Oops.   That came up less than an hour later.   We were reading books in bed and he said, “I think I’m going to throw   up again.” I was nursing Cooper in the bed with him, so I handed him a little bowl that he uses for playdough and *wham* out came more vomit than I’ve ever seen outside of Poltergeist.   It splashed out of the bowl and across the floor, and the sweet little guy tried to run to the bathroom before the rest came and ended up dropping the bowl full of throw-up all over his floor.   Then yakked all the way to the bathroom.   With tears streaming down his face, he heaved and heaved, then I cleaned him up and carried him to bed.   Cooper was, by this time, screaming in rage at having been dumped on the floor, not too far from the wet mess, so that I could attend to Kenny in the bathroom.   We blotted it up and Kenny passed out.  

Did I mention that right before we got his pjs on, we discovered that we were out of pull-ups?   He’s been potty-trained since September, but still wears a pull-up to bed – rather needlessly, as 99.9% of the time it’s dry in the morning.   So I put him in two pairs of “unders” and crossed my fingers.   Oops, again, and he was in bed with me at 3AM, soaked to the skin.   I changed him and settled him under the covers, and Cooper woke up.   I nursed him, climbed back in bed with a snoring Kenny and passed out myself.  

The next morning, Kenny threw up one more time for good measure (he downed a full glass of tepid water while I wasn’t looking), then improved as the day went on.   He even took his first nap in nearly 8 months!   I though that Cooper and I were in the clear, but last night at 2AM, I woke with a seasick feeling.   I got up four or five times, didn’t throw up, and went back to bed.   Then I got up and threw up like there was a demon in me – all over the bathroom sink, toilet, floor and myself.   Kenny and Cooper slept through three hours of that, and I finally got it all out and everything cleaned up by 6.   At which time Kenny woke up, very hungry, and asked for breakfast.   I convinced him to watch a few cartoons so I could go to sleep.  

That lasted for only a little while before Cooper woke up.   I almost fainted when I lifted him out of the crib, and had to sit in the floor with him for a good ten minutes before I could pick him back up and get him changed and nursed.   Then I put him right down again for his morning nap – a little early, but it was self defence!   Casey arrived home at 9AM, bleary-eyed from a red-eye flight, took one look at me and sent me to bed.   But not before mentioning that I was the only family member who didn’t get a flu shot this year.   “Lazy-girl,” I mumbled, and  then slept another three hours.   In the meantime, he called my dad, who came over to help for the rest of the day.  

Dad was a trooper, even setting up his laptop next to Kenny and his playdough so that he could get a little work done in the midst of the circus.   The two of them went to the grocery store for some Gatorade at one point, and I napped again with Cooper.   Casey got home at 8 and is now snoring with Kenny in his bed.   Speaking of troopers, he’s been up for nearly 48 hours from  his crazy travel schedule, and gave up any possibility of a nap this morning when he came in to shower and change clothes in order to take care of me and the kiddos!

I’m a little better now (at least I’m not tossing my cookies!) but I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.   I kind-of look like it, too.   So far Cooper hasn’t done anything more than the run-of-the-mill spitting up (maybe a little more than usual, but my milk can’t be that stellar-quality today, now can it??), so I’m hoping that his little body is spared the ravage that Kenny and I endured.   Casey, too, seems to be in the clear for now, but he’s so exhausted it’s hard to tell.

So now I’m going to bed.   Just looking at the computer screen is making me queasy…

I’m currently in a bit of a quandary, and I need some advice.

Right now Kenny calls about 50% of our adult friends “Mr.” or “Mrs.” So-and-So, and the other 50% are “Mr+first name” and Miss+first name.”   I am a bit confused as to how we got into this mess, but so it goes.   I think that it started because the first significant adults in his life (other than family) were his gymnastics teachers and Sunday School teachers, all who chose to introduce themselves as “Miss Martina” and the like.   Then there were close friends who are not family, who are nonetheless called “Aunt Jana and Uncle Kimo” – we’ve got a few sets of those – then the remainder who got a little mixed in here and there.   So going to our Friday night homegroup, Kenny knows most of the adults by the Mr. and Mrs. moniker, and a few by the Miss+first name title.

My quandary is that I’d prefer that he call all adults by the more formal Mr. & Mrs – though as far as gymnastics and Sunday school goes, I don’t think I can change that one.   One of my friends, whom Kenny calls “Miss Jody,” instructs her kids to call us Mr. & Mrs, which I think is lovely, and which Kenny thinks is comical.     Casey is a little more casual than I, and often introduces Kenny to his friends by Mr.+first name.   I think that most men think this is cute,  while most women think this verges on disrespect.   None of my friends have called me out on it, but I’ve gotten a sense from more than one that they would prefer being known as the Mrs.

I talked to Kenny about it today, and suggested that we switch to Mr. & Mrs. for Mommy and Daddy’s friends, and keep only the “Miss” for his teachers.   He, of course, got downright confused.   Hm.    It does bring up that he will need to remember a whole new set of names, but I don’t think that inconvenience is a good reason to not do it.

I’d like to hear the popular opinion on this from all you readers out there.   Obviously I can use on the Mr. & Mrs. with anyone new he meets, but how to change the ones he already calls “Miss?”   It is an area where Casey and I differ, too, so of course we need to come to an agreement on this one.   I’d love to hear your thoughts!

(PS – Doesn’t this goat look like Dudley?!?)

Do you ever feel like you spend the day walking backwards?   I felt like that on Friday.   I had a To Do list a mile long, which automatically means that Cooper doesn’t nap, Kenny doesn’t stay put in “quiet time” and Dudley decides today’s the day to bring a large stick into the living room through his dog door to chew up on the rug.   In other words, not only did I not make a dent in the list, but I ended up further behind at the end of the day than I started.   I tried to juggle playing with the kids and  doing housework and did neither very well.   In fact, I pretty much failed miserably at both.   To top it off, I had to make dinner for our weekly small group and get everyone (and a hot meal) out the door on time.   It was the kind of day when you realize just before kissing your hubby welcome home that you smell not-so-vaguely like vomit and there is a very good possibility that you haven’t remembered to brush your teeth.   Or hair.   Oh heck – or showered or even had a chance to pee in the last four hours.

Saturday looked up, it was Valentine’s Day after all! and Casey and I took the boyz to my parent’s house, where they were also watching  my nieces,  and headed out on the town for a fantastic dinner. We lingered over cocktails in the bar and didn’t even spend the whole time talking about the kids.   Now that’s romantic!

I almost brought up to Casey that I’m feeling a little bogged down in housework and such, but we had so much fun I completely forgot about my own petty woes.   I feel certain that I could catch up if I just had an hour a day to do it – but with Kenny no longer napping (he hasn’t since this summer) it just never happens.   I do try to to enforce quiet time, too, but then I start to feel guilty because Cooper’s nap time is the only time we have to play together one-on-one, which he craves so much.     Then there are the evenings, but who wants to mop the floor at 10 at night?   I can’t even see the floor at that hour…

So when do you all do your housework?   And how?   Do you occupy the kids with something?   TV?   Do it during naptimes? Hire a nanny?   A housekeeper?   Flip with your husband?   Tell me your secrets…

One of Casey’s best friends left today for what will most likely be close to an 18 month deployment with the Marine Corps.   He leaves behind his wife and four daughters, ranging in age from 11 years to 9 months.   Casey went to his house to drive him to the airport at 6AM  this morning, and got to the house in time to witness a “Yellow Ribbon Ceremony” in the front yard.   Hank and “his girls” stood bundled up in the dark to pray and tie a ribbon around the oak tree in their front yard, where it will stay until he comes home.

We have been friends with this family for about two years and they have become some of our closest friends.   They were the ones that showed up with pizza and paper plates the night before we moved to Atlanta and we sat laughing and crying amidst the boxes as we said goodbye.   Even more poignant, they were the ones who showed up with pizza the night we moved back from Atlanta 7 days later, and we sat amidst the re-delivered boxes and laughed and cried some more.   Casey has been meeting for coffee with Hank at 6 AM every Thursday for the past two years, and we have bounced between each others houses several times a week, sharing coffee and chocolate cake and letting the kids run wild.   It’s hard to imagine not seeing them together for so long.

Tonight as Casey worked late, Kenny and I went over to share (another) pizza (do we need to start learning to cook?) and hang out a little on the girls’  first night alone.   I can’t imagine saying goodbye to Casey for a year and a half.   I have a hard time when he’s out of town for more than two nights in a row.   I can’t imagine him leaving Cooper a 7 month old baby and coming home when he’s two.   I can’t imagine for myself the sacrifice they are making as a family for what they believe in.

I was trying to explain to Kenny a few days ago that “Mr. Hank” was going away for a long time to fight in a battle.   Kenny loves to read his little picture Bible, and so we turned to the story of Gideon and his army.   “Is Mr. Hank going to fight in the battle with God’s army?” my sweet boy asked.   “Kind of like that, honey.”   “I want to show him my Bible so he knows about the battle!”   Later that day, sure enough, he toted the Bible over to their house and showed Mr. Hank a picture of some soldiers in battle.   Hank  got a little choked up and gave him a big hug.  

Anyway, tonight we’re a little blue… Casey is missing his best friend  and I am sick at heart to think of  my friend  separated from her husband for so long.

Godspeed, Mr. Hank…

It kind of dawned on me today that Saturday is Valentine’s Day.   Duh.   Casey and I have talked about going out on a date, and yet it never really hit me until just now that it’s Valentine’s Day.   I have nary a card or a gift.   I feel like life has been in fast forward – Christmas, New Year’s, almost buying a house and moving (again), illness and the general “tyranny of the urgent” have won out over my brain.     So short of scoffing at the holiday with “every day is like Valentine’s Day with you, Sweetie!” I’d love to  hear your best ideas for a gift for your husband.   I need some inspiration!

Today was glorious – it hit just shy of 70 degrees and Cooper celebrated by taking two 2-hour-plus naps and Kenny and I celebrated that by taking the monitor outside and running wild in the sun.   It’s a wonder what a little fresh air can do!

And just for kicks, I went through some baby pictures of Kenny today and found one of him at 7 and a half months – the same age Cooper is now…

They do look more alike than I thought!

Kenny wanted to pose with Dudley for a picture, and we caught Dudley mid-yawn…

Yikes!

Over the weekend I had to make a dessert for a dinner party we were attending, and decided that I needed to use the fabulous min-bundt pans that we got as a wedding gift so long ago.   The pans in question were packed somewhere in the twenty-some-odd boxes that we have still not unpacked from our move and move back this past October.   These boxes are in our garage, up a hill nearly 100 feet from the house.   I looked at Kenny and Cooper playing on the rug.   Hm.   And hm.

“Hey Kenny!   Can you play with Cooper while Mommy goes to the garage to look for something?”

“I want to come with you!”

“Well, if you can play with Cooper the whole time while I’m gone, you can watch Clifford on the computer.”

“Okay!”

So I put Cooper in his little activity chair and gave Kenny very specific instructions (don’t give him any other toys, stand next to him the whole time, etc) and I ran to the garage, Dudley close behind.   I ransacked through three boxes and found the pan and ran back into the house.   I was gone for four minutes.   Kenny and Cooper looked exactly like I left them.   Whew.   Not that I’m going to do that again any time soon, but looking back I guess it is a little risky to ask a three year old to watch a seven month old, even for four minutes, right?

It got me thinking of all the things I do now that three years ago I would have sworn I’d never do.     So play along… have you ever:

Asked a pre-schooler to “watch” a younger sibling for a minute?

Reasoned that cookie dough is no worse than a donut for breakfast?

Let your kids color the shower door with dry erase marker just so you could know where they were when you took a shower?

Wiped spit up off the hardwood floor with your sock and figured that it was just as good as going to get a rag?

Opened a box of cookies in the grocery store just to make it out of there without a munchkin meltdown?

Laughed along with your baby as the dog licked his face, then wiped the slime off with the sleeve of your shirt?

Fallen asleep in bed while trying to put your kid down for a nap?

Fallen asleep on the floor while trying to play with your kid?

Gotten so used to spelling in front of your kid that instead you spell something to your kid in front of your husband?

Wondered if someday there are going to be group therapy sessions for “Children of Mommy Bloggers?”

Ok, readers: tell me your score and write a question for me of your own!

Back in August I joined Facebook at the suggestion of a high school friend, but never really did anything other than fill in a skeleton profile and then randomly accept friend requests here and there.   But this week I’ve logged in a few times and I’ll admit: I’m wondering if the tentacles of this time-sucking phenomenon is going to pull me in.

I barely have time for blogging, much less searching for friends old and new to link-up with online and constantly thinking of something witty and unique to write in the “what are you doing right now” line.   (To date, I’ve never actually typed anything there, undoubtedly surrendering to “boring” as a description.)   Ok, I barely have time to fold an entire load of laundry in one shot.   For goodness sakes, I haven’t been to the bathroom alone in 40 months.   So thinking of adding another internet addiction to my life seems a little silly.   I did, however, sit Kenny down at the other end of the computer desk this morning with a coloring book so that I could fool around a little on Facebook and see what the hype is all about.  

I found something really amazing: there are actually people on there who have, like 648 friends!   I have, like, 12.   I really thought that “friend” meant people you are actually friends with, or at the very least, were friends with at some point in your life.   But it turns out that it may be closer to “people with whom you may have breathed the same air at one point in your life.”

Why not call it “vague acquaintance request,” or “I think I may have seen that person walking past me 20 years ago” request,” or even, “that name looks familiar somehow request.”   I have gotten these “friend” requests from people who not only was I not friends with, ever, but who were mean to me in high school, shunning me from the cool crowd no doubt due to my Sally Jessie Rapheal red frame glasses and spiral perm.   Why?

I’n not knocking Facebook.   I really do think it’s kind of nifty and a fun way to see where all the old friends of yore ended up, who they married, and if they still have spiral perms of their own.   And of course now that I realize that it’s possible to have a second chance at being popular, I spent a little time tonight spiffing up my profile page, adding links to this blog and uploading a photo or two.   Anyone want to be friends??