Wilder in Taos

 

This photo of Wilder was taken right after our friends Chris and Bree's wedding. We were on the rooftop of the La Dona Luz B&B, and the boy was enjoying trying new foods (caviar??), but mostly he ate about 30 olives that came back to haunt him later.

Anyway, Taos was beautiful, and Wilder really enjoyed the Kit Carson playground, where he went down all the big kid slides by himself. Brave, eh? And thanks to his Phoenix grandma and grandpa (Pop and Sharon) for the stylin' duds. Nothing like a little pearl-snap action!

Let me explain ...

We have not suddenly decided to dress Wilder in pink. There is an explanation, of course. Jerry and I spent part of the afternoon looking at houses and so our dear friend Judy watched our boy for a few hours. They watered her garden, and Wilder got soaking wet right before she was going to bring him back to us. So she put him in the only dry clothes she had close to his size: those of her grand-daughter Dylan, who's a couple years older than Wilder. She called to warn me ahead of time, so I -- being the kind of mom who relishes taking photos of her kids that can later be used against them -- waited outside with the camera. I couldn't pick just one of these; he looks too darn cute in all of them.

In this first one, he literally ran from Judy's car to where I was sitting on the sidewalk yelling "MOMMY!!!!" Geez kid ... melt my heart already!
 

What a face!
 

This one I included just because I had to show the shoes he was sporting.
 

Sorry Wilder. Mommy couldn't help herself. xoxo.

The Great Home Selling/Buying Debacle of 2007

And so it's begun. We're moving. We put it off as long as possible. But we got back from vacation and I finally called our Realtor and it's been "go! go! go!" ever since. Meetings, MLS listings to pour through, PODS to order, boxes to pick up, mountains of our stuff to go through, home drive-bys, home viewings ... and we haven't even started showing our own house yet. Today we started cleaning and packing with the intent of getting about 40-60 percent of our crap out of here so the home shows better. Hopefully we'll have that done (and moved into the curbside PODS) by next weekend. Then get a housecleaning service in here, get the place staged (courtesy of our wonderful Realtor Linda Biggerstaff and her home stager Anne Lasko ... yes, that is a plug) and get that sign put up out front.

Today we actually looked at our first house, and it was one we would buy. If we were going to live in it for 20 years, we wouldn't buy it. But considering we want to find a place we might be able to sell in the next five years (when that can't-pass-up job offer comes from our dream destination), it'd be a nice place to spend that time and has good resale value. Built in 2007, it's an open floor plan, four upstairs bedrooms and an absolutely gorgeous heated pool and spa out back. Good storage. Gated community (again, not really our thing, but folks around Dallas love it so we'd be able to sell it easily, we think). And the community has a couple walking/biking paths and a park for Wilder to play in.

We won't make an offer, because technically it's the first house we've looked at and that would be just, well, stupid. If it's meant to be, it'll still be on the market when we're ready to start making offers (good to get our house on the market first, you think??). ; )

Anyway, a couple pics of our state of living right now.
On one hand, these are scattered all over the house right now ...

on the other, my cabinets never looked like this while I actually really lived in this house.

Final Kauai dispatch (typed with sad face)

Well, we leave tomorrow. :( Bummer, we could stay another week, at least. When we come back, whenever that is, it will definitely be for longer. We're cooking our last dinner at the rental house, the sun has set, and we've got one more cool-breeze-filled, palm-trees-rustling night to lull us to sleep. On the plus side, that's only one more night to be woken up by roosters at 4 a.m. : ) See, everything has a silver lining!

Without further ado, here are a few more photos.

Dispatch from Kauai No. 2

Another few shots from the last couple days. Today is our last full day here ... kind of a bummer, but at the same time it's been awesome and packed with fun. Wilder has gone from being petrified by the ocean to running at the waves at full speed. He also has learned to get his naps in when he can -- driving from beach to beach, napping in the outdoor shower while Papa rinses the sand off him, etc. (I have a great shot of the latter but haven't downloaded it yet).

Today has been wonderful. We went snorkeling at Tunnels Beach, which it about 3/4 of a mile from our rental house. Saw soooo many wonderful colorful funky fish. Right now the boy is napping but later we're driving into the nearest town, Hanalei, for a little shopping, probably some shave ice (basically a giant sno cone in one of about a gojillion flavors). Then who knows ... we'll either come back to the house to relax and watch the sun go down at the nearby beach or meet up with friends to snorkel some more near their place.

Anyway, signing off. Much love, k.

Dispatch From Kauai

Aloha! Here are a few pics from our first three days on the Garden Isle. What an amazing beautiful relaxing place! If you click on the slideshow it'll take you direct to the slideshow and you can view the images a bit larger. We've been busy with wedding, settling in and going on our Na Pali Coast sailing tour since arriving, but as of today we have three days with a clear schedule. Beaches, here we come!!

Proud Mama

 

Dallas schools started back up today, and even though we're not technically in "school" yet, I'm still going to call this Wilder's First Day of School picture. It was taken afterward, however. I wanted to get a picture of him today because of what his teacher, Myrtle, told me. About six new toddlers started today, and she declared "how proud" she was of Wilder, because he apparently spent the day helping the other new kids adjust. "When that baby comes," she said, "he's going to be a great big brother." From your lips to God's ears, Myrtle! Anyway, it made me very proud of him, too.

One more little story. We play this game where we point at ourselves and say "I", put our hands over our heart and say "love," then point at Papa or Betty or each other and yell "Papa!" or "You!" You get the point. He did that today while I was changing his diaper, just entertaining himself. "I ... ruv ..." he started. Lately, he loves to finish up with a rousing "PAPAAAAA!!!!" Today he started with "PA..." ... pause ... cocked his head at me, got a turd-eating grin on his face and yelled "MAMAAAAAA!!!!!"

*heart melts* Gee, thanks kid.

Such a trooper

Poor Wilder. He has pneumonia and has been sleeping all afternoon. Jerry and I first got an inkling that something was wrong Friday after dinner with friends. He was fine at dinner, laughing and cheering with his sippy cup and eating like a horse. A few hours later, he was coughing so hard in his crib he threw up everywhere. Over the weekend he didn't seem to get any worse, but no better, especially at night and in the mornings, when he'd cough himself silly. During the day he'd get much better and be his usual Wilder-self, our running, laughing boy. Still, I had an inkling something more serious might be afoot. This morning the cough was worse and so Jerry and I kept him home from daycare and split the day, making a mid-day doc appointment. Our pediatrician listened to his lungs and pronounced it pneumonia. A mild case, thank goodness. We dropped his prescription off, picked up a burger, grilled cheese and fries at a nearby burger joint and dined in the drugstore parking lot with AC on full blast with Jim Morrison singing Peace Frog (and his mama explaining the impact of bands like The Doors in popular music culture) while we waited on his antibiotics. He grinned the whole time. In fact, I wish I showed as much grace and fortitude when I don't feel well. His nap earlier got interrupted for his doctor appt., so I put him back down at 3. It's almost 6 p.m. and he's still fast asleep. Poor kid. Glad he's getting his rest.

Ahh, I hear him stirring now ...

xoxo, k.

Our Sunday...

Just a few photos from today. The first two at Whistle Fair 2007, at Dallas' American Railways Museum, where Wilder got to see how big choo-choos really get. Jerry and I also got to see that fearless Wilder does get scaredy after all. They had vintage steam whistle demos, and when that thing went off, Wilder was about 15 feet closer to it than we were. He hightailed it back to us with this poor terrified look on his face. Still, once in Pop's arms, he thought it was great fun (as evidenced by the laughing-boy pic below), and we've been having great fun making steam whistle sounds all day, trying to outdo each other. We also got to see a guy play an old-fashioned, steam-run calliope (you can see W. mesmerized by it in the second photo). To top off his stellar day, he also got a Thomas train toy, which he's playing with in the third pic, fighting sleep as hard as he can. Overall a pretty good day!

The other pic is just of Wilder playing in the back yard.

 

 

 

 

One more from the tub ...

 

Wilder lookin' dreamy

Just thought I'd post a few quick B&W photos I took of Wilder tonight. We're all doing well, just trying to get through this miserable late-summer Texas heat. Thought we might get rain tonight but it's not looking good. Anyway, love and xoxo to all. k.
     

Long time no blog

Well, it's been an interesting few weeks in the Scott household, which would explain the dearth of blogging lately. My apologies ... I'll get back on the stick and have some more pictures up here soon. Maybe even a video or two.

First things first ...

Most of you already know this, but we are once again in a family way. Yep, Wilder's gonna have a little brother or sister to do his bidding and be his personal court jester here soon. Not too soon ... we're not due until late March but, after some initial concerns early in the pregnancy, it now looks like we're gonna bring another 'lil Scott into the world.

As for Wilder, he's doing great. He's finally stringing some two and three word sentences together (as in, "Where's the hippo?") and his vocabulary grows noticeably every week. So cool to see. He's climbing like crazy (I've even caught him table dancing ... seems he can scramble up on top of the dining table for a jig in the time it takes me to look in the fridge). He's jumping and dancing and generally delighting in the knowledge that he can do many things now that he couldn't a month ago. He's also listening, a big boon for his parents, and generally following simple directions. He's growing like a weed and has his Papa's skin -- they're both loads tanner than I am right now. We slather on the sunscreen, but he soaks up the sun anyway. No sunburns ... he's just a little brown boy.

In three weeks, we leave for Hawaii. Kauai, to be more exact. We're going for six nights, partly to see our friends Julie and Jim get married and partly to get the hell out of dodge for once. We've got two and three day layovers in Phoenix going and coming. That's where Wilder's other set of grandparents, my pop and his wife Sharon, live, so we're really looking forward to seeing them and letting them get to know Wilder better. At any rate, we're very very very much looking forward to this vacation. We've got a wonderful place to stay, and even some built in babysitters in the form of our good friends Jeff and Ginger who'll be staying with us. The trip cannot come soon enough ... my only regret is that Wilder will likely not remember a single detail of it, but that's just a good excuse to go back soon, right?

OK, enough babble. Forgive me if I don't blog often in the next few weeks and don't blog clever and with some mildly successful attempts at humor. I'm in full-fledged pregnant-brain mode right now. And, without further ado, some recent pics:

In the backyard, floating around with mama.

Taken during the Pop-and-Wilder Weekend Extravaganze (mom was in Colorado)

Handsome in his new camo shirt courtesy of Grandma Teri.

Out of the Mouths of Parents

File this one under: Things I never thought I'd say prior to having children.

"Wilder! STOP licking the galaxies!"
--and--
"Dinosaurs don't drink coffee honey."

WilderSpeak

For a great round-up of Wilder's general lexicon, as seen by Jerry, click here and here. It's hilarious.

Pictures

Just a few pics, because I haven't put many up lately. We're all doing great. Jer's got a horrible sinus infection (doc said it was one of the worst she'd ever seen), but is on antibiotics and will be on the mend soon. Wilder's still recovering from his own sniffles/cough. And I, per usual, seem to have developed a bionic womanesque resistance to germs in my old age. I will now prompty contract strep throat, no doubt.

Ulf has gone back to ARF. He has adjusted well, director Martha Hover tells me, and they are taking him to Chicago next month to be adopted out there. Apparently the Dallas market is saturated with rescue dogs. She assures me we've done exactly the right thing and that Ulf will be much happier in a home made more for him (READ: child-free). I'm beginning to believe her.

Betty is spending more time inside and she and Wilder get along famously when he's not terrorizing her. She even kisses him on command now. "Kiss baby!" LICK! SLURP! It's pretty cool.

We got a new couch and I love it more than one should love a material possession. For those of you who don't know, our late epileptic cat made couches extinct in our house due to peeing during seizures. This is the first couch in years that is urine-odor free. It's is a lovely thing. I've already fallen asleep on it twice.

No more news for now. We miss everyone!
k.

Dinner photo No. 1. Boy likes hummus.


Dinner photo No. 2. And garlic spinach linguine. (Note how those curls have taken on a life of their own.)


Wilder gets his "ANGRY" on.


This is Wilder's way of saying "I would rather not go nite-nite right now parents." It is usually accompanied by blood-curdling screams once he realizes he's thrown every lovie in his crib on the floor.

This just stinks

Well, it looks like we're losing another pet. This time not due to cancer or some other horrible disease. Actually, health problems might make this easier. I've never bonded with Ulf quite like I did with Sam or Tennessee, but that isn't making this decision any easier.

Ulf doesn't like kids. He growls, bares his teeth and snaps at Wilder. He's a dog; a pack animal. I can hardly blame him for his actions now, but I know that given serious damage I could never forgive him and would never forgive myself. Three weeks after we got him, he bit me. It wasn't much of a bite, but it was enough to make me know in my heart of hearts that he'd go for Wilder at some point if I was the least bit lax in supervision. He might even do it right in front of me.

I know this is right. I know it. But I friggin' hate it. I don't give up on dogs; never have. I adopt the dogs (and cats) everyone gives up on. I don't know how to handle this.

...

So it looks like this weekend Ulf is going back to live on the land we got him from. A woman named Martha Hover operates a no-kill shelter called ARF (Animal Refuge Foundation) near Sherman, Texas. She has 300 dogs on 25 acres and is a saint of a woman, as far as I'm concerned. If you ever have a few dollars and want to give it to someone who is doing incredible things for God's creatures, consider Martha. Her place really is something to behold. She drives around a little cart and the dogs follow her everywhere she goes. I hope Ulf can fit in and be happy here and won't cause problems. Jerry and I are still hoping she can adopt him out to a nice childless person, and hopefully I'll be able to keep track of him. When we left with Ulf three-plus years ago, she told me to call if he didn't work out. I'm not sure I could do this if she hadn't made that offer. Truly, ARF and Martha are rarities in this world.

Anyway, I just needed to let this out. I'm damn broken up about this. Two years ago I would never have imagined I'd lose Sam, Tennessee and Ulf in less than one year. That's a lotta love to let go of in such a short amount of time.

So say a little prayer for Ulf and his journey from here on out.

There's fire in his eyes & his words are(n't) really clear ...

Yes, I have Michael Jackson's "Beat It" on my iPod. My friends can now unite in mocking and laughing mercilessly at me, but this video of Wilder jamming to MJ was just too fun not to post for the sake of my musical integrity.

Tennessee video

A couple of videos shot in TN. The first is of Wilder playing with his new bubble machine, which is about the best toy ever for toddlers. The second is of Wilder in the tub -- he enjoys his baths so much now that if you ask him if he's ready to get out, he lies down. You'll also hear his sheep impression in this one, quite randomly.

Tennessee Roundup

We're back from our week in Tennessee. We had a fantastic time, spent mostly relaxing, eating, swimming and sunning. Wilder had so much fun hanging out with all his extended TN family. He even learned to say "grandma" in less than 24 hours, and of course followed his grandad around like a puppy. He gave out kisses freely and behaved better than I could have imagined. He also got really used to being in water, and even tried doing a little swimming in the lake on our last day, Friday. And he got his first pretty major boo-boo, tripping and falling on a paver at Grandma's house (Teri and I would like to note we were not present and therefore can't be held accountable) and ending up with a nice shiner, cut and bruise.

Hoping to post some video later, but for now, here are some photos (if you click on the little dialog box in the lower lefthand corner, you'll get captions):

One more for the road ...

OK, I couldn't resist posting these. I call this set of pics, "Wilder: Up Close and Personal."

Letitbeaphase, letitbeaphase

So today is Wilder's 20-month mark. Good thing it's not a real important milestone, because he would not be ringing it in with what I'd call a great amount of decorum.

He started it off by waking up at around 1 a.m. this morning. He went from fussing to having a real come-apart in the span of a couple minutes. Usually I let him cry these things out on his own. If I go in there, the length of such episodes is tripled or quadrupled. But this morning he sounded in real distress. Yet that distress was nothing compared to what I was about to witness.

I put it thusly to a friend earlier today in an e-mail. Incidentally, this friend has a 6-week old and is therefore going through sleep issues of his own (DISCLAIMER: I haven't edited out the profanity):

"Did I say last week that he's a good sleeper? I should NEVER make such statements. He's not only decided bedtime is the equivalent of a diaper-rash cream application in how it must be approached (READ: kicking, screaming, etc.), but he's woke up between 11:30-1:30 the last four nights acting like Nazi paratroopers have just landed in his room and are trying to abscond with him. Last night, in addition to the imagined kidnapping, he also acted like something was trying to eat him alive from the inside out. I do NOT exaggerate. Apparently he'd entered a Mother of All Tantrums contest and was aiming to win the grand prize. Holy. Friggin'. Shit. I thought I knew what a come-apart was, but my kid proved to me last night that when it comes to having come-aparts, he's turned professional. It went on for like 20 minutes and ended with him on flat on his stomach on our living room floor in a pool if his own panic-induced slobber. If that was a glimpse of my future I'm finding a dark closet to cower in. I'll say one thing for the very-very-wee-infant stage, brother ... at least they're not aware they have free will yet."

I still have no idea what it was about. I guess it was either a very bad dream that he hadn't quite woken up from or he was actually in some kind of pain. We popped in a Baby Einstein finally and, after a couple minutes, he chilled to the point where the next door neighbors probably couldn't hear him anymore. Poor guy.

OK, so that was the beginning. The middle consisted of the usual succession of nos and head shakes and flopping on the floor in protest. Normal toddler stuff. This is getting long, so I'll wrap this last part up real fast. I had to change a dirty diaper right after dinner and before bathtime, giving him a few minutes to run around naked as a jaybird. He took this opportunity to pee on my left foot, which was wearing one half of my favorite pair of sandals. Got that cleaned up. Put him in the tub. That was going nicely. Then he crapped. In the tub. Thank God by that time Jerry has gotten home (he worked late tonight) and was able to quickly come in and scoop him out of my hands. So the kitchen floor is mopped up, the tub is sanitized and the tub toys are in the wash. I need a drink ...

That said, here are a few photos from this weekend. I wanted to post more but I'm tuckered.

Playing in the stream at the zoo.


What could evoke this reaction? A bear? Lion? Elephant? ...


Nope, it was this guy. And I agree with Wilder; he's supercool.


Yes, I am a GIGANTIC dork.


Jerry and Wilder hanging in the tent during our front-yard camping experiment. (NOTE: It did not last all night.)


Jerry laughing. Why? I was drinking a Crown and Coke and, after I told Wilder no three times when he asked for a drink, he threw his bink in, fished it back out and proceeded to suck the whiskey coke off. Booger ...


Yes, we watched "Nemo" on the laptop in the tent.

Quick Shot

I'm going to post more pics later of our zoo excursion, along with some hopefully good shots tonight of our yard camping, but I wanted to post a quick one. This one is classic Wilder. Squatted down, picking up rocks and a drool trail more than halfway to the ground. It's also photos like these that sometimes amaze me at how beautiful my boy is. In the day to day of crying, screaming, drooling and smearing goldfish residue all over his face, you can't always see it. But my goodness is he handsome!
 

TGIF!

Jerry surprised Wilder and I with a day off today. We meant to go out of town. We wanted to go camping and see how the boy would handle sleeping under the stars, breathing fresh air, etc. Alas, it was not to be. In this state you have to have a permit to camp on public land and we did not and everything was booked solid. When we were childless we might have (OK, would have ...) thrown caution to the wind and thumbed our noses at those kinds of restrictions, but that's difficult to do when a park ranger might walk into your camp at 11 p.m. and make you go home and you have a toddler in tow. We considered finding a cabin somewhere, but we decided to save the money (and we're consoling ourselves with our TN trip in a little over a week).

So, all that said, we wanted to make the most of our weekend trapped in the concrete jungle. We took a little hike, swung by the spraygrounds (where we and about 50 other people got caught in a thunderstorm downpour -- it was awesome!) and went out to dinner. Just a few pics, including one Jerry took of Wilder and I after coming home from dinner. I very rarely like pictures of myself these days, but this one is OK, and it's a fantastic one of my sweet, sweet boy.

Wilder enjoys his sprayground outing just minutes before the skies opened up and dumped!

On our hike, Wilder finds a small butterfly to marvel over.

Hi hikes! This was the boy's first hike w/o one of us toting him in his backpack. When we turned around due to swarms (literally) of mosquitoes, Wilder cried to go on. This was great -- we've got ourselves a little hiker!

Our post-dinner pic.

Rawkin' Tub Time

Soaphawks are COOL.

Foh Toes

Clearly, I've gotten lazy when it comes to titling my posts. Below are a few images captured from the last couple of weeks. Wilder, of course, continues to amaze with his growing brain and his utter and obstinate unwillingness to eat vegetables. The kid who used to pack it all away for a good caloric burst of energy now obstinately shakes his head when I cut him a piece of summer squash the size of a pinky nail. I am also happy to report that he turns a bright shade of lobster red when he exerts himself in high temperatures -- he gets that from my side of the family. So, to sum up he:

A) Gets red when exercising and;

B) Is cranky when he first wakes up.

Yes, this is my legacy to my offspring.

Ah well, onto the photos!

This is Judy. She is, for all intensive purposes, Wilder's honorary Dallas grandparent. She gives him lipstick kisses and he adores her equally.
An impromptu family photo taken just before bedtime last night.

Pop finally gets Wilder to smile for the camera.

Wilder in mama's sunglasses. Yes, he looks just like a giant blonde fly. For some reason, he can't help but grin like a jack-o-lantern with these on.

Whew ...

We've been pretty busy here the last few weeks. Slowly pulling some things together that we've been meaning to do for some time. Painting our front room a non-Parkay yellow color (after six years that particular color starts to make you feel a bit homicidal rather than what I assume is its intended "cheeriness"). That effort was fraught with folly ... I put two gallons on the wall in full-steam-ahead mode before I realized it wasn't going to dry anything other than that pinkish/lilacish color that neither Jerry or I could live with unless Cinderella her friggin' self was moving in and paying the mortgage. It was a mixing fiasco perpetrated by Gidden, Evil Overlords of Erroneous Paint Formulas. Ahh, damn you Gidden!!!! (We ended up with a lovely neutral shade that complements the orange kitchen/red office nicely.)

Speaking of office ... this weekend, spontaneously, we decided to tackle the office/den/library/"man room." I say "we" as if Jerry had much choice. I tend to decide on a whim that these things must be done. He theoretically could not help me. But I think A) he's a very sweet man and so plunges himself into the effort with enthusiasm and B) fears the look in my eyes and what it could turn into should he not pitch in. I've said it before; will say it again -- I married the right man. He gets me and all my mostly unloveable idiosyncracies.

/tangent.

Anyway, this room had become:
1. Absolutely filthy with neglect
2. A storage room

Bikes and strollers were mixed in with mold and dust and bunnies and lord knows what else. Much cleaning solution and paper towelage were employed. Like, enough to bring a small forest back to life (in the paper towel dept. ... the cleaning solution was just enough to make me goofy on fumes).

We're not quite done yet, but the end result is rather nice. I finally got some pictures framed and displayed that were taken by my old friend and our wedding photographer, David Wood, 12 years ago on a tour of the Pacific Northwest. They look fantastic. I bought a huge but manly houseplant (this remains the "man room," after all) and a container for it that I liken to a tire. Again, the manly thing. As the coup de grace of manliness, I've decided that, rather than purchase a new media cabinet, I will decoupage our old one with old pinup prints for a really funky piece. I think I'm more excited about the possibilities than Jerry.

Anyway, it looks good, and I've now been blogging about cleaning and decorating for a few hundred words, and I should probably stop before this gets out of hand. I will end with the statement that should any of you who read this blog ever decide to come visit us (hint nudge hint nudge), we have some really lovely, non-girly, non-pinky/lilacy spaces for you to chill in. Oh, and we make stellar coffee and steaks and breakfasts and will take excellent care of you. Our dogs will lick you and our child will drool on you, but that's all part of the love.

Seriously, people ... come feel the love. Dallas is lovely this time of year (if you don't mind horribly oppressive humidity and clouds of vampire bugs.) xoxo, Kris