Friday, October 31, 2008
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Wilder turns 3!
Dear Wilder,
Wow, kiddo. You're 3 now. No longer any baby left there (you'll always be my baby ... I just HAD to say that); fully a boy. And what a boy you are. You go through your phases no doubt, where you try my patience hourly (I want to say minutely, but that word is such a misnomer in this instance) ... but lately, you are just a barrel of energy and fun and enthusiasm and belly laughs and one amazing discovery after another. We are gliding through one of those times right now where we just get each other. We are soul mama and her soul boy. It's pretty cool, kid.
This weekend was pretty fun. You'll likely not remember it. Maybe a snippit here or there, so let me remind you.
Friday, we went to the neighborhood family movie night (the first) up at the park, three blocks away. For the first time, you let me dress you for cold weather. A hat and gloves, no less. You loved the gloves so much you didn't take them off for like four hours. You were so very good at the movie. You actually watched most of it before you realized that most of the other kids your age were running running running behind us in the tennis courts. Then we had to get up and join them. And it was fun, but before that, just for a bit, I had you all to myself. Sitting on my lap, snuggling, sipping hot chocolate and eating a cookie. It was a mama's dream.
Saturday was your party. We threw a bunch of balls and stuff into the front yard and just had a low-key party. For days you talked about your party and your presents and your cake and something you assumed you'd be getting -- "super super cars" -- which I'm pretty sure is just any car that is cool and new. Thankfully, you got some. It was a ball. Owen, Lea, Brenden, Luke and Hank came. A bunch of your adult friends came, too, because I think they love you and because they know your mama and papa always have beer at parties. When you are an adult reading this, make sure to give them hell about that.
Last night you were so very tired, so wound up. You made me sing you to sleep. We both fell asleep in your bed just after the final lullaby.
Today we just played and played with all your new toys. Papa and I tried to help you learn how to ride your bike. It's still a bit of a challenge for you, but that has not dampened your enthusiasm for it one bit. You kept yelling "LOOK! I'm DOING IT!!" at the top of your lungs any time you made it move 3 inches. I love that about you. Afterward you let me whisper things in your ear to yell as you tackled Papa over and over again. We yelled: "Donkey butts!" "Pork bellies!" "Colorado!" "Cowabunga!" "Geronimo!" "Cowronimo!" "Gerabunga!" and, of course, "I LOVE YOU PAPA!!" until we wore him out. Oh, and ourselves, too.
This afternoon we broke out the finger paints that Aunt Tara got you and took them and our giant roll of butcher paper into the front yard. As much paint got onto our clothes and faces and arms and legs as the paper. (Thanks, Aunt Tara, for verifying the washability before buying.) We painted ourselves up like warriors and chased each other in circles around the front yard.
Somewhere in between we played a bunch of rowdy games of Hungry Hungry Hippos on the kitchen floor. You're very good at that game. You play with your usual all-or-nothing attitude toward life.
Did I mention how cool I think you are? I tell you that sometimes, and you just say, "Thanks, Mama," kind of like you know already.
So anyway, kid, it was a fantastic weekend, for both of us I think. I've never seen so many ear-to-ear grins on you. Three is gonna be a good year. I love you, and watching you grow has been the highlight of my life so far. It makes everything glow a little brighter and ring a little truer and sound a little sweeter. xo, Mama
Wow, kiddo. You're 3 now. No longer any baby left there (you'll always be my baby ... I just HAD to say that); fully a boy. And what a boy you are. You go through your phases no doubt, where you try my patience hourly (I want to say minutely, but that word is such a misnomer in this instance) ... but lately, you are just a barrel of energy and fun and enthusiasm and belly laughs and one amazing discovery after another. We are gliding through one of those times right now where we just get each other. We are soul mama and her soul boy. It's pretty cool, kid.
This weekend was pretty fun. You'll likely not remember it. Maybe a snippit here or there, so let me remind you.
Friday, we went to the neighborhood family movie night (the first) up at the park, three blocks away. For the first time, you let me dress you for cold weather. A hat and gloves, no less. You loved the gloves so much you didn't take them off for like four hours. You were so very good at the movie. You actually watched most of it before you realized that most of the other kids your age were running running running behind us in the tennis courts. Then we had to get up and join them. And it was fun, but before that, just for a bit, I had you all to myself. Sitting on my lap, snuggling, sipping hot chocolate and eating a cookie. It was a mama's dream.
Saturday was your party. We threw a bunch of balls and stuff into the front yard and just had a low-key party. For days you talked about your party and your presents and your cake and something you assumed you'd be getting -- "super super cars" -- which I'm pretty sure is just any car that is cool and new. Thankfully, you got some. It was a ball. Owen, Lea, Brenden, Luke and Hank came. A bunch of your adult friends came, too, because I think they love you and because they know your mama and papa always have beer at parties. When you are an adult reading this, make sure to give them hell about that.
Last night you were so very tired, so wound up. You made me sing you to sleep. We both fell asleep in your bed just after the final lullaby.
Today we just played and played with all your new toys. Papa and I tried to help you learn how to ride your bike. It's still a bit of a challenge for you, but that has not dampened your enthusiasm for it one bit. You kept yelling "LOOK! I'm DOING IT!!" at the top of your lungs any time you made it move 3 inches. I love that about you. Afterward you let me whisper things in your ear to yell as you tackled Papa over and over again. We yelled: "Donkey butts!" "Pork bellies!" "Colorado!" "Cowabunga!" "Geronimo!" "Cowronimo!" "Gerabunga!" and, of course, "I LOVE YOU PAPA!!" until we wore him out. Oh, and ourselves, too.
This afternoon we broke out the finger paints that Aunt Tara got you and took them and our giant roll of butcher paper into the front yard. As much paint got onto our clothes and faces and arms and legs as the paper. (Thanks, Aunt Tara, for verifying the washability before buying.) We painted ourselves up like warriors and chased each other in circles around the front yard.
Somewhere in between we played a bunch of rowdy games of Hungry Hungry Hippos on the kitchen floor. You're very good at that game. You play with your usual all-or-nothing attitude toward life.
Did I mention how cool I think you are? I tell you that sometimes, and you just say, "Thanks, Mama," kind of like you know already.
So anyway, kid, it was a fantastic weekend, for both of us I think. I've never seen so many ear-to-ear grins on you. Three is gonna be a good year. I love you, and watching you grow has been the highlight of my life so far. It makes everything glow a little brighter and ring a little truer and sound a little sweeter. xo, Mama
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Texas in October
It's that time of year in Dallas when we all tumble out of our houses, grateful that the heat is behind us. It really is a beautiful time of year here, and we've been enjoying it by galavanting around the city, most recently to the State Fair of Texas (yesterday) and the Arboretum's pumpkin festival (today). Jer's pop, Jerry Ray, is here visiting us for a long weekend, and he's so good with the boys. Wilder has always loved having his grand-daddy around, and Hunter has taken to him just as much.
Anyway, not a lot of time to write, though I wish there was. Here are some photos from the last couple days.
Anyway, not a lot of time to write, though I wish there was. Here are some photos from the last couple days.
Tuesday, October 07, 2008
A post for a friend
A lot of you know I'm not deeply religious. But I do believe in something, and I believe that we have the power within us to shift how things happen in the world. I don't pray much, unless I feel like there's something that just can't be solved in another way. Today, I feel that way, so I'm going to be saying a lot of prayers. Let me tell you why.
Two months ago, my good friend found out her husband, who was 28, died in a car accident on his way back to his offshore oil rig job. She was at work when she got the call, and I hope to never see anything again so heartbreaking in my life. They had two young boys together: ages 4 and 1 and 1/2. They didn't have a perfect marriage, but there was never any doubt that they truly loved each other.
This friend of mine is having a tough, tough time. You'd think losing your spouse like this would be enough. But for her, hurt just seems to keep piling on top of hurt. She's in a new house and her neighbors are horrible. She has a new job because of this, and her boss is awful. She is having a REALLY tough time making ends meet -- until she receives her husband's death certificate, she can't get Social Security death benefits, and the paperwork takes a long time.
Yesterday I was driving home from work, looked down at my phone and her name and number were on my screen. I take such things as signs, so I called her. And I'm glad I did; she was in tears, in a dark place. She can't catch a break and it's getting to her pretty bad. She's tough ... one of the toughest women I know. But she's reaching her breaking point. By the way, she's also one of the nicest, most generous people I know, and she's a kick-butt mom to those boys.
I don't know how to help her. I listen. I tell her it will get better. I tell her I know those are just words, but that we have to believe them. "Because it sure as hell can't get much worse ..." one of us will say. And then we laugh a little through our tears.
So anyway, here's the thing. Could you say a little prayer for my friend today? I know throwing a prayer request out in the inner-web-tubes seems like a strange thing to do, very un-Kris-like. But indulge me, please. This girl really, really needs a break. Her boys really, really need to have a mom that doesn't have so damn much on her shoulders.
And honestly, at this point I'll try just about anything to help her, to get the good, positive energy in the world shifting back in her direction.
Her name is Kristen.
Thanks, k.
Two months ago, my good friend found out her husband, who was 28, died in a car accident on his way back to his offshore oil rig job. She was at work when she got the call, and I hope to never see anything again so heartbreaking in my life. They had two young boys together: ages 4 and 1 and 1/2. They didn't have a perfect marriage, but there was never any doubt that they truly loved each other.
This friend of mine is having a tough, tough time. You'd think losing your spouse like this would be enough. But for her, hurt just seems to keep piling on top of hurt. She's in a new house and her neighbors are horrible. She has a new job because of this, and her boss is awful. She is having a REALLY tough time making ends meet -- until she receives her husband's death certificate, she can't get Social Security death benefits, and the paperwork takes a long time.
Yesterday I was driving home from work, looked down at my phone and her name and number were on my screen. I take such things as signs, so I called her. And I'm glad I did; she was in tears, in a dark place. She can't catch a break and it's getting to her pretty bad. She's tough ... one of the toughest women I know. But she's reaching her breaking point. By the way, she's also one of the nicest, most generous people I know, and she's a kick-butt mom to those boys.
I don't know how to help her. I listen. I tell her it will get better. I tell her I know those are just words, but that we have to believe them. "Because it sure as hell can't get much worse ..." one of us will say. And then we laugh a little through our tears.
So anyway, here's the thing. Could you say a little prayer for my friend today? I know throwing a prayer request out in the inner-web-tubes seems like a strange thing to do, very un-Kris-like. But indulge me, please. This girl really, really needs a break. Her boys really, really need to have a mom that doesn't have so damn much on her shoulders.
And honestly, at this point I'll try just about anything to help her, to get the good, positive energy in the world shifting back in her direction.
Her name is Kristen.
Thanks, k.
Monday, October 06, 2008
Oh balance where art thou?
There are 593 unread emails in my Gmail account.
There are 5-7 loads of laundry waiting for me to do.
There are a bunch of unpaid bills to my left.
There are dishes in the sink.
The front-yard bushes need to be trimmed.
I need to train for the Muddy Buddy.
I haven't picked up a book in two months.
I haven't bought one Halloween costume or 3rd birthday gift for Wilder.
I haven't sent out invitations for either the birthday party or the Halloween party.
I need a haircut.
I got a taste of what 8 hours of sleep feels like again and I want more, more, more.
Sigh ... self pity isn't really my style. But right now I just feel overwhelmed. And instead of addressing any of the above matters, I'm sitting here blogging and thinking about watching "How I Met Your Mother." Because I'd like just half an hour of mindless lack of responsibility today. No websites, no poopy butts, nobody climbing on my head, nobody crying when he's not cradled in my arms, no spreadsheets, no conference calls.
Yep, that's what I'm gonna do. Because Neil Patrick Harris makes me smile.
There are 5-7 loads of laundry waiting for me to do.
There are a bunch of unpaid bills to my left.
There are dishes in the sink.
The front-yard bushes need to be trimmed.
I need to train for the Muddy Buddy.
I haven't picked up a book in two months.
I haven't bought one Halloween costume or 3rd birthday gift for Wilder.
I haven't sent out invitations for either the birthday party or the Halloween party.
I need a haircut.
I got a taste of what 8 hours of sleep feels like again and I want more, more, more.
Sigh ... self pity isn't really my style. But right now I just feel overwhelmed. And instead of addressing any of the above matters, I'm sitting here blogging and thinking about watching "How I Met Your Mother." Because I'd like just half an hour of mindless lack of responsibility today. No websites, no poopy butts, nobody climbing on my head, nobody crying when he's not cradled in my arms, no spreadsheets, no conference calls.
Yep, that's what I'm gonna do. Because Neil Patrick Harris makes me smile.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Sundays are good days
We just got back from the Cottonwood Art Festival. Lived here seven years, just now making it. We'll definitely go back every year now. We had so much fun. Now Jer's run off to work for a few hours, Wilder is coloring quietly in his bed and will nod off soon, and I'm just waiting for His Lord SirFightsTheSleep to close his eyes and drift to the Land of Nod. Then, it's lights out for me too. How I love the nap hour.
Here are some photos of our day so far:
We spent a good amount of time just sitting on the banks watching ducks, geese, etc. Wilder is relatively obsessed with birds.
My three guys; gosh, they're cute, no?
OK, one more of the three fantastic men in my life. How I love them all.
Wilder inhales some animal crackers.
W's art project. He got to imbed plastic toys and stuff into a sand square (in his case, bugs, shells, dinosaurs)and then they poured plaster in and waited for it to dry. I didn't have high hopes but I think it actually turned out pretty cool. It was fun to do, anyway.
I'm off to my mid-day nap. xo, k.
Here are some photos of our day so far:
We spent a good amount of time just sitting on the banks watching ducks, geese, etc. Wilder is relatively obsessed with birds.
My three guys; gosh, they're cute, no?
OK, one more of the three fantastic men in my life. How I love them all.
Wilder inhales some animal crackers.
W's art project. He got to imbed plastic toys and stuff into a sand square (in his case, bugs, shells, dinosaurs)and then they poured plaster in and waited for it to dry. I didn't have high hopes but I think it actually turned out pretty cool. It was fun to do, anyway.
I'm off to my mid-day nap. xo, k.
To sleep, the impossible sleep
OK, I made a post a couple weeks ago alluding to Hunter sleeping through the night. It was kind of a desperation post, made to self-delude and all; because he really only slept from about midnight to 5 a.m. and, well, that's not really through the night, is it?
But, this morning ... this morning the sun is shining brighter. I have a spring in my step. The air feels crisp and cool and the birds are chirping and I have a new lease on life. Why? Because from 8:30 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. -- count 'em, 10 GLORIOUS HOURS -- he slept. Didn't cry, didn't fret, not so much as a peep. I of course woke up at some point and had to fight the urge to sprint to his room to make sure he was OK. Eventually I nodded back off and he, of course, was fine. At 6:30 he even crawled in bed with me, nursed and then went BACK to sleep for almost 2 hours. Wow.
The funny thing is that last night we had some old friends from Denver over. And I was talking to one of them, Ann, about how he still hasn't slept through the night. And she made the comment: "Well, you willed him in the womb to be a good baby, just will him to sleep through the night." So, I swear I did this ... went to bed last night and sat there with my eyes closed and all my concentration and sent vibes to the baby's crib while thinking: "Hunter, you CAN sleep all night. You can. You can do it." I thought it until I believed it. And then I nodded off.
And then I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and smiled. Man, life is GOOD this morning.
And, because no post is as good without photos as it is with photos, here's a totally random one of Wilder and Ann and Rob's son, Kieran, from last night:
But, this morning ... this morning the sun is shining brighter. I have a spring in my step. The air feels crisp and cool and the birds are chirping and I have a new lease on life. Why? Because from 8:30 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. -- count 'em, 10 GLORIOUS HOURS -- he slept. Didn't cry, didn't fret, not so much as a peep. I of course woke up at some point and had to fight the urge to sprint to his room to make sure he was OK. Eventually I nodded back off and he, of course, was fine. At 6:30 he even crawled in bed with me, nursed and then went BACK to sleep for almost 2 hours. Wow.
The funny thing is that last night we had some old friends from Denver over. And I was talking to one of them, Ann, about how he still hasn't slept through the night. And she made the comment: "Well, you willed him in the womb to be a good baby, just will him to sleep through the night." So, I swear I did this ... went to bed last night and sat there with my eyes closed and all my concentration and sent vibes to the baby's crib while thinking: "Hunter, you CAN sleep all night. You can. You can do it." I thought it until I believed it. And then I nodded off.
And then I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and smiled. Man, life is GOOD this morning.
And, because no post is as good without photos as it is with photos, here's a totally random one of Wilder and Ann and Rob's son, Kieran, from last night:
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Pictures pictures pictures
Playing in the sunroom
We don't call him Captain LongCrack for nothing!
Naked, post-path, in repose
Handsome Hunter
Hunter's first bike ride. Per the usual Scott Brothers behavior, Hunter chilled and didn't make a peep. Wilder implored his Papa to ride faster. FASTER. FASTER!!!!
Papa giving Wilder land-boarding lessons -- 1 of 3
2 of 3
3 of 3 ... and Jerry declares the boy's got natural talent. I'm sure he'll be snowboarding in no time (if we ever see snow again)
Love to all, k.
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