The Hunt . . .

So Ollie is finally on the move. It is hilarious to watch his little gimpy beginner crawl. I could do it all day long. Maybe that's why I've been a bad little blogger. Or maybe I am knee deep in laundry from our weekend getaway and I don't want to face the ironing, the house cleaning and the fact that I've done not one thing to prepare for Easter. I think I'm going to go with the crawling one because it's happier.

Today I found Ollie in the family room doing this:

Just him peeking behind the curtains was cute enough to make me run grab the camera. I thought it might make a good 'Picture Of The Day' {don't know what I'm talking about? Click here}. But instead I caught a hunter and his prey on film.

Notice how the baby silently makes his move behind the curtain.

Suddenly, before anyone realizes what has happened, he is on the other side, headed for the corner behind the wingback chair. But what could he want there?

He lenthens his torso and reaches in for the strike, grabbing the round orange object that is the subject of his fancy.

The prey, in a desperate attempt to evade capture rolls just out of reach of the slobbering baby.  He is, however, as persistent as he is cute and will not be gentle if trifled with.

Another grab - another evasion.  This time the hunter uses an oft successful tactic:  the cornering manuever.  The prey is weak and cowering as it has nowhere to go.

The hunter shows his dominance over the weak prey by sitting erectly and shaking violently.

And then the hunter is discovered and begins to disarm his next victim by flashing a dazzling smile while wearing drool from the hunt on his leg.

 

Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner . . .

This is not a flattering or cute picture of the infant son.  Unfortunately, this is our current reality.  And that look on his face, well, I'm seeing an awful lot of it.

You see, my boy is trying ever so hard to crawl and for some odd reason, he can only manage to go backwards. It usually goes something like this:
 
Ollie sees desirable item. 
*
Ollie assumes normal baby crawling position.
*
Ollie raises himself into plank position {it's yoga, baby}.
*
Ollie sits back up, only now he's about three inches back from where he started.
*
Ollie continues this torturous system until he looks up to see how close he is to desirable item and realizes it is now a mere speck on the horizon.
*
Ollie makes the face in the picture.
*
Ollie begins crying.

Occasionally Ollie will back himself into some tiny crevice of the family room.  I've found him halfway under the couch, behind the armoir doors, under the coffee table and in the corner pictured.

I continue to put him through baby boot camp, where I move his legs and arms in synch with the proper crawling technique. We do this multiple times a day.  He giggles and smiles.  I think he understands.  I put out a desirable object.  And he's backwards boy all over again.

Usually I am in no rush to have a mobile baby.  It means lots of things, including baby proofing for real and the end of the legos for awhile.  But right now, after three weeks of backwards boy, I am done with that face and the crying. 

Would anybody like to volunteer to come and be Ollie's crawling coach?

Plank You, Plank You Very Much.

Channeling Jackson Pollack . . .

My infant son is a gifted artist.  He channels Jackson Pollack on a daily basis. 

The biggest similarity is the splatter marks.  Lots and lots of splatter marks. The biggest difference is the medium.  Instead of paint, it's baby food.  Instead of a brush, it's a spoon and the pbbbt! of little lips. Instead of canvas, it's his own face.  And my face.  And the kitchen floor.

My little artist creates with pride and passion.

And he loves it when his momma wears his artwork out of the house.

 

So if you see me on the street, baby food caked on my clothes or hair, make me an offer, because this kid of mine, he's gonna be famous.

Photo Shoot . . .

Disclaimer: If you don't want to see a whole boat load of pictures containing chubby fat rolls on baby legs, move on my friend, this post is not for you.

On Sunday, while the others were off at church, Mr. Ollie and I had a little photo shoot. The light in his room was great, I had a beautiful plush blanket crying out, "Use me! Use me!" and I had a onesie from a Grandma that needed a little showing off on Valentine's Day. Wait, did I mention that my baby is sorta cute? It helps. It really does.

I'd let the pictures do the talking, but where's the fun in that? Instead I'm gonna let you know exactly what Ollie is thinking.

What's this?  She just handed me paper?  She never hands me paper!  Think.  Think.  Oka;y, I have a plan.

Watch as I begin by distracting her with my little rubber band wrist.  See how it looks like it was screwed onto my arm like a little doll part?  It gets her every time.  Drives her absolutely batty.  Meanwhile, I am stealthily examining every inch of 'the paper'.

Now I look her in the eye.  She is too busy gooing and gaaing over my cuteness to even notice that I've moved 'the paper' towards its intended target.  She is too wrapped up in the curl of my little toes and the milky whiteness of my skin to even have the slightest suspicion.

You'd think she might be on to me here because my gob is wide open, ready for the kill.  But she's a little dense when I'm this adorable, so she hides behind the camera to get the shot.  The camera . . . he is my friend. 

Yesssss!  It worked.  My unwavering charm and disarming wit knocked her off her feet and she didn't even comprehend my devious plan all along to eat the paper. And oh! is it ever delicious.

Wait!  She batted my arm down.  Woman!  That hurt me.  Deep. You have no right to cross me that way. 

Unbelieveable!  She's taken 'the paper' away.  And I am angry.  Angry about 'the paper' and angry that she has pigeonholed me with the words on this shirt.  I'll show her.  I'll show her just how lovable I am.

Hang on a minute.  I can be lovable.  And if I am, it might get me 'the paper' back.  I'll grin for her.

And she'll give in.  She always gives in.

Thanks Momma!  Happy Valentine's Day.

As if this photo shoot weren't enough to melt my heart on Valentine's Day, the RedDog left this in my mailbox.  I will frame it and hang it on my wall.  It is what every mother needs to hear.  It is what every mother wants her kids to feel {and I'm totally okay with the fact that only one of my kids feels it.}

Twisted . . .

The Littlest Fellow had his six month check up yesterday. I can't believe it's already been half a year. Time to record the details of the visit.

Here's what we know:

He's 16 pounds 12 ounces.
He's 27 1/2 inches long.
He's got a wee head.
His chunky thighs withstood the pain of four shots.
He can roll both directions.
He's days away from sitting up unassisted.
He likes cereal, but only when it's sweetened with the good stuff, like bananas or apples.
He has one tooth and one on the way.

Here's what we don't know:

Why in the blessed world he is still pooping ten {yes, ten!} times a day.
Why in the world two of those poops have to be in the middle of the night.
Why in the world he won't let his momma eat dairy or sleep for more than three hours.

It is a twisted world, my friends, and not just because I mentioned poop twice in one post.

Do You See It?

Here they are . . . my go-to baby entertainers doing their jobs while I get dinner ready. There's something in this picture that puts the wind in my sails. Do you see it?

It's not the Bumbo chair - although it might possibly be one of the greatest baby inventions ever {and should never be put on an elevated surface - I'm a bad Dragonfly}.

It's not the laughing baby - although the sound of that boy giggling is most definitely one of the sweetest sounds I've ever heard.

I know it's hard, but I'm gonna ask you to stop looking at the baby. Now turn your attention to the other two. Do you see it?

It's written all over their faces. That this little boy name Ollie has brought such joy, love, devotion and selfless service into the lives of my children is something I could have never fully anticipated.

And it is just. simply. the. best.

ps. CryFest Update: We moved the baby back into his crib and put RedDog on our floor. It just made sense to have the non-crying child sleeping nearest to us. Ollie slept from 10:30 until 5:40 WITHOUT crying! Hallelujah!

You Should Be Worried. Very Worried.

This is the face of a boy whose momma just whispered in his ear, "Happy Four Month Birthday Little Owl. Today you will be weighed and measured and get shots in your chubby legs. "

While I know the shots won't be fun, we have bigger fish to fry at this appointment with our pediatrician. Ollie needs to sleep. And Ollie needs to poop. And Ollie's little tummy needs to not be so rumbly every time he eats. Basically, Ollie isn't super happy a lot of the time and we want to know why so we can help him feel better and be the cheerful boy we get glorious glimpses of.

So wish us luck! {and pray that our doctor has a solution to take care of the DARK circles under my eyes and maybe even gives me the green light on dairy because I cannot get the good stuff out of my bloomin' mind.}

Update: Per our pediatrician's advice, we are going to try putting Ollie on probiotics to help his "gut" get to a better place. If that does not work, we will begin exploring the lactose intolerance side of things. Otherwise, our check up was great. Ollie is healthy, growing and even giggled for the doctor after he drooled down her cleavage. Tonight all joy will end as we put him in our walk in closet and let him cry. Patience and earplugs, my friends. Patience and ear plugs.

He Didn't Give A Hoot . . .

Here it is . . . the grand unveiling of our little Owlie in his little owl costume.

With his little trick or treat pumpkin bag courtesy of Hannie B's American Girl Doll.

Having a little photo session to show off the cuteness of a baby boy on his first Halloween night while wearing a costume painstakenly handmade by his little ol' mom with love.

And in a little less than ten minutes, we had a little meltdown and it all went down hill in a big way. Hope your Halloween was great!

If You Give An Owlie An Owl . . .

He might sit and pose for picture.

And if you're lucky, posing for that picture might lead to a conversation between bird and boy.

But eventually, if you give an Owlie and owl, it can only end in one way:

With the owl becoming lunch. What a hoot!

Vintage Western . . .

We knew we were having a baby. We knew the baby would have to share a room with someone. As soon as we knew the baby was a boy, we determined that RedDog would be the lucky recipient of the tiny roommate since he had the largest room and the most agreeable personality.

I knew I wanted to make some changes to the room. I knew I could only make slight changes so RedDog wouldn't feel like I'd done away with his room to make way for the baby. I knew I had a limited budget and I would have to shop the house for decor ideas. And I knew that I had enough items to go with a vintage western "theme" {term used VERY loosely here}.

There are people who go all out with Western themed bedrooms for kids. I'm talking denim and chaps and fringe and rope and cowhide {although a cowhide rug can be totally killer!} and bandannas and saddles and horseshoes and large as life stuffed horses and beds shaped like chuck wagons that only cost $14,918.00 {Yeah, I'm serious. Don't believe me? Click here.}

But that's just not how I roll. I like to play it a little more subtle than that. Lucky for me, the Hubby's got some real cowboy ancestry. It sure came in handy when the room went together!

The boots on the right belonged to my father-in-law when he was a boy. The boots on the left graced the feet of my sweetheart as he helped his "paw" and "grandpaw" and learned to work.

This old lantern was handed down to me from the Queen. While it's more than likely a flea market find than family heirloom, I like to imagine a pioneer family using it at night to light their covered wagon as they read from the Bible before going to sleep on the windswept plains {and since I'm playing pretend, maybe that bear was cut from a quilt used to cover that pioneer family}.

Every Western themed room needs a sturdy horse. This one has been a part of my family since I was a child in Germany. My kids have all tried to ride it, which is why stirrups and wheels are no longer in tact.

The base of the horse is a perfect place for RedDog's special rock collection, Ollie's new soft teddy, and a reminder for children young and old: dream!

This hat is the real deal. It belonged to Great Grandpa Lee. I love watching my kids put it on. There is something special about the way a hat this big just envelopes a little head in a cocoon of wonder and imagination.

Above Ollie's crib are photos of his grandpa and great uncle dressed up as cowboys in their early youth. These pictures are a complete riot and make me smile every time I'm changing a diaper! Ollie loves to stare up at the dark frames against the light walls.

The color palette of browns and brick red was not easy to shop for when it came to crib bedding. I settled for a mixed dot affair from Target and a very soft dotted bumper from Babies R Us. The crib was generously donated to us by my sis-in-law Audrey after I broke our crib while trying to assemble it.

Simple cornice boxes with architectural star details echo other star details around the room. Simple bedding adorns a great Ikea bed with dust ruffle made by the Queen {from a set of Ikea drapes}.

And then there's this sweet little lambie, representative of all things innocent who was a gift from a very special friend. He stands guard over the basket of delicious creams and lotions I use to make Ollie smell almost edible each day. Soon he will take his place in the arms of Ollie as a most beloved playmate and companion, because every little cowboy needs a pet.

The total cost to pull this room together was $20 - and that was for the sheet and dust ruffle on the crib. Everything else was already in my house. I did repaint a few things to go with the new color scheme, but was surprised by how much I didn't need to buy! If you're tired of a space in your house, look around and see what you're using elsewhere that just might work to spruce things up a bit!

ps. Just found out that Nie Nie is going to be on Oprah tomorrow (Wed. Oct 7th). Please tune in and support my blog hero! {That would be Nie, not Oprah . . . I could care less about Oprah}