snacking, sharing (or stealing) & standing.

Snacks are a favorite past time in this house. Mason has always been a big snacker, there is not snack food in the world he will turn down - unless you consider a raisin a snack, but be let's be serious. Max is following closely in his big brother's footsteps in his love of snacking. They are die hard snack lovers. If you could be paid for snacking, I'm fairly certain they would both choose a career in it. Max does not even discriminate against raisins, truth be told, they are one of his favorites! Mason much prefers Cheetos, obviously right? And it seems like he prefers them on days he is wearing a white shirt. Perhaps, that is my fault for even purchasing any articles of clothing in white.

So most afternoons we snack outdoors and sometimes they share. And lately they stand. Max is standing! He's been pulling up on furniture for at least two or three months and standing and cruising but in the last ten days he's mastered standing from the ground up all on his own. It's so exciting and he is super proud. He'll often flash us a look of accomplishment, I want to eat the grin off his face he's so damn delicious. Almost as delicious as a Cheetos puff. But maybe not.

Sharing is not a strong point for my kids. I really don't know why! I enforced it early on with Mason even before he had a built in "sharing" buddy [known to some as a baby brother]. Mason is gung-ho to share if it's something he doesn't want. But the real sharing gets ugly. Like a mini WWF series on my living room rug. I usually just watch and laugh, because I'm afraid of getting a chunky baby foot straight to the eye. Really, it's not that bad. They share, well they steal and smirk. The theif gets approximately twenty seconds to gloat and grin and bask in their glory until the robbed brother realizes and attacks the thief.

Snack stealing...sharing....is the most fun to watch.The other day Mason had Cheetos (are we sensing a theme?) and Max had a rice cake. All was well on my front lawn, snacking children are always happy and always quiet and content. Well almost always. Then Mason suggested they share their snacks. I had to do a double take - I looked back over at him and made sure I had given him Cheetos for snack and not grapes. He wants to share with Max? Hmm okay. I think that's a great idea. Mason snuck a bite of rice cake and basked in his glory, flashing me a cheesy (literally) smile.

Max didn't have a clue and the exchange took place a handful of times before Max realized his rice cake was quickly vanishing and his fingers weren't turning orange like Mason's. That's basically how Mason "shares". It was under three minutes before Max understood what was happening - he learns quickly. He copies more quickly than he learns and he stole some Cheetos, only for Mason to steal them back.


Did I mention Max is standing? I probably did - because I brag about my [genius] babies a lot. But that's one of the best perks of parenting thinking or sometimes, knowing, your kids are the coolest, smartest, cutest kids on the planet Earth. Anyway this was a little snapshot of Max conquering his newest trick of standing without any furniture, adult, toddler brother assistance. Step one, put hands firmly on ground to thrust chubby body upward, step two, stand tall and proud for one minute even, step three, WIPE OUT.
So that's what were up to. Snacking, sharing, stealing snacks and a little standing. The boys summer has pretty much started the only S were missing is swimming; Mason's lessons start in a week. He is so excited. We'll be back with swimming pics!

eleven months.

Maximo,

Guess what? Today is your almost first birthday - just a month shy. This year has totally blown by I can't believe that this time last year I was massively pregnant and you weren't here yet! You took your first step this month, you were pretty pleased with your accomplisment, yet you've yet to walk anymore. Just so you know I am totally okay with that. I realize the territory that comes with walking, though your like speed racer with the crawling so I'm not sure it'd be much different. You have the strength but you're just a little apprehensive, be brave and confident cute stuff, you can do it!


You laugh is contagious and your smile is radiant. You have seven teeth and show them every hour of the day. Your trademark face is this scrunched up nose, evil grin thing. It's pretty damn adorable, even though you usually only flash it when being told 'no'. Am I in for it or what?


Your party is in two weeks and I can't wait to watch you dive in to some cake. There isn't a food you've met that you don't love. Among the recent favorites are waffles and bagels, but you haven't strayed in your fidelity to bananas, fruit loops or blueberries. You eat more than your three year old brother, which is probably why when your daddy accidentally put you in his jammies, no one knew it was wrong!


You admire your brother and your a keen observer of all things. You couldn't care a less about the TV even if it seems like it's constantly on, I'd bet you've seen less than thirty minutes of any said cartoon. You aren't a huge toy fan, but if it's Mason's YOU WANT IT. NEED IT. HAVE TO HAVE IT. Which you can imagine leads to a joyous morning or afternoon of battling. You hold your ground, especially with the size difference. You newest mastered skill is standing up without using the aid of any standing object. Pretty exciting.


You are a bundle of joy. A chunk. A total ham. We love you so much and can't wait for you to celebrate your first birthday in just 30 short days. Happy 11 months Maximo William.

Mother's Day.

Whether or not these outfits are frilly or not - is not up for debate - they are a little frilly, sure, but they're even more adorable than newborn toes. Okay, I got a little carried away, they are pretty damn cute though. Admit it.Mason probably won't ever be bribed in to a one piece outfit again. Rightfully so, I know I pushed it by squeezing him in to this outfit as it was. But it was a nice treat for Mother's Day. My fourth Mother's Day - what a nice day it was! We celebrated with a delicious brunch, where we drank too many mimosas, ate too much food and even put sprinkles on our waffles. We get wild like that.
The boys even let me nap and Michael got me roses. Well, umm the boys did, Michael just paid for them. After a morning jog, I walked in to a naked, freshly bathed Maximo with a balloon around his chubby belly, oh happy mother's day to me. I mean the balloon was wonderful and tied to one of the two cutest kids I know, that was a plus...but the bathed baby was the best! Half way to the getting-the-boys-dressed battle. We were only fifteen minutes late to brunch. Boo yah! It was miraculous.Michael and I were having a conversation and he somewhere interjected "Happy Mother's Day babe". Mason quickly copied him and after wishing me a joyous mothers day he continued to wish his father and his baby brother a Happy Mother's Day too. We don't discriminate in this house, happy mother's day to all, even the dad's. He'll get it one day.I had a great day. I'm so thankful to be a mother and have a wonderful mother of my own. I can't believe this was my fourth Mother's Day. That's almost a whole hand. Time is flying - a little too quickly. I can't wait to celebrate again next year and everyday all year with the boys. Celebrating the big things and especially the little. The two little bitty's - why I got to celebrate mother's day - again.

circa 2008.

I was browsing through all my picture folders on my laptop the other day, for some unknown reason. I stumbled upon lots of old photos--a few "oohs" and "awws", lots of smiles, infinite memories, but one picture stopped me in my tracks. It melted my heart. It made me a little nostalgic. It was a picture of Mason from the first day of November. His hair fell slightly over his eyebrows and his smile, oh that precious little smile. More of a smirk and a small replica of the real thing. It's his totally over the camera, but still willing to please you smile and he still does it. In fact he probably did it three times today. I hope he still will this November and many more.

This picture is the last picture I see any remnants of a baby in Mason; he still had cherub cheeks and a baby face. I didn't remember him being turning in to a little boy, there was never one moment where I thought, that was it, he is grown out of a toddler. When I saw this picture, I scoured through the folders, by December his face had thinned and he acquired a familiar, yet totally different look. I knew then, this was his last picture as my little baby Mason. Before the hundreds of pictures of little kid Mason. As I stared at the picture I smiled and gazed in to his eyes through the computer screen. I tried to remember what his voice sounded like that day or the way his cheeks felt, because they looked so soft and so delicate.I eventually clicked the X and his last baby picture faded off the screen. At first I was sad, but then I remembered it was time to go pick him up from preschool and I couldn't wait to get out of the house to get him. To feel his cheeks and listen to his voice but especially to see his smile. His big kid cheeks and his big kid voice. And his same, phony, smile that I cannot get enough of.

fairly certain.

I'm fairly certain...

... Max will never learn how to use a sippy cup.

...Mason will never sleep in his own bed. Or that I will ever sleep in my own bed a full night with no little feet digging in to my back.

I'm fairly certain I have a minor addiction to margaritas, Pandora radio, sushi & pedicures. Don't act like you don't too. And if you really don't, you really should.

I'm fairly certain this summer is going to be the best yet. I'm also fairly certain Mason will still not wear a hat in the sun & that Max will throw a tantrum when I attempt to lather him excessively in Coppertone.

I'm fairly certain...

...that I love my husband more than the day I married him. He totally rocks. I'd love him more if he swiffered the floors or loaded his dishes in to the dishwasher, you know not the sink that is hmm, 8 inches away from said sink. Cough, cough.

...that mother's day brunch is the best event on my May calendar. Hello mimosas.

I'm fairly certain that no matter how many recipes I print off to replicate from Food Network's website, I'm sadly still not any closer to becoming Giada. In fact, I'm fairly certain McDonald's would not even hire me to simply dump baskets of frozen french fried goodness in to pools of bubbling grease. Even if I volunteered. Certainly not.

I'm fairly certain...

...that I can text faster than I can talk. Allegedly, no, no certainly.

...that my coffee still has not learned to make itself. Still. After all these mornings, months, umm, going on years. Somethings never change. Certainly.

I'm fairly certain these tidbits are random and unimportant.

monkey see-monkey do.

Max is an observer. He's always paid very, very close attention to everyone, especially Mason. He's had this infatuation with his big brother for a long time, but now that he's incredibly mobile, he's acting on it. Hello copy cat. Max also has quite a little temper so when he can't climb a 4 foot tree and dangerously jump from the branch (after being told to please not do so) just like his brother, he gets pissed. Quickly and furiously. This is what I call zero to sixty. Both my children have this lovely personality trait. I have no idea who they inherited that from...cough, their father...cough.

Mason is full of energy and pizazz. I love that about him. But if Max follows every step his brother did and cues in ultimately shaping his own being- from Mason's doing. I'm going to be in trouble. Lots of trouble. I'm going to have my hands full, at least that's what everyone at Target, the grocery store, hell, everywhere I go says. You'd think I was babysitting sextuplets or something freakishly similar; not just taking my well behaved twosome on a simple outing when we go out. Maybe it's because I look like a fresh faced high school freshman? If Max chooses to continue this monkey-see, monkey-must-do NOW phase, people are going to really think, know I'm slowly slipping away to insanity.

The other day I was sorting through and putting away laundry upstairs. I had safely locked the boys upstairs with me. I even set Max in his crib, you know with lots of toys and entertainment to stay busy for as long as possible (read: 2 minutes, max). I was on a roll, I'd procrastinated nearly a week, meaning I had roughly 500 pieces of clothing to put in it's proper drawer, in two rooms. Sounds like an easy task right? It's eerily daunting. It comes close to the chore of emptying the dishwasher or cleaning a highchair of a newly self-fed toddler. Not fun.

All of the sudden from Max's room, I heard squeals. Squeals of delight. Prior to this noise, I'd heard...well absolutely nothing. Silence is never a good sound in this house, unless I am fully aware that my children are sleeping, at the same time, which rarely happens in this house. I should have known better. Should have. I stopped mid-glory of sorting 3T boxer briefs from 12 month jammie shorts and headed towards the nursery. They're happy, whatever they're doing is making them laugh and it was that contagious, from the very bottom of you belly, laugh. Don't ruin their fun. I kept repeating this in my 1 minute lunge to check what could be so extremely entertaining. They have the same laugh. Identical. I couldn't tell who the instigator of the laughing fit was, because as soon as one would stop to take a breath, the other would burst in to a continued bout of laughter. How bad could it be?

I opened the door and saw two little monkeys. Jumping on their bed. Oh excellent, Mason has not spent more than 48 hours of HIS LIFE in a crib. Yet he voluntarily climbed in with his content (probably calm) brother and taught him to JUMP up and down and shriek in his bed. Joy. It was pretty damn joyous. At least they thought so. Do you see Max's intense observation going on? He is fully studying how Mason is jumping with ease and clutching the crib rail, pondering his own successful execution of this trick. And isn't it fitting they happened to be in matching attire that morning? I thought so.


Within three minutes Max had busted his head on the railing. SEE, little monkey you are still too small to see and then do (quickly and without processing the consequences). I took full advantage of this situation--you know two kids already in the crib and suggested a nap, both of them, in the crib, because that would go over great and all. Mason voluntarily launched himself from the crib, similarly to a teenager hurdling a fence from a raided house party, and bee lined it to his Hot Wheel Track. That little (somedays big) monkey was not so in to following his baby brother's lead straight to the land of nod. Maybe next time.

Since this incident Max has continued to see and (attempt to) do, just what his big brother does. He clearly did not learn from his head-straight-to-crib-rail encounter. Looks like I'm headed for trouble. DOUBLE TROUBLE.