paint, pumpkins, it's fall, oh my!

It's October, so basically this is as close to Fall as it's going to get here. Best way to celebrate with a a toddler and preschooler? Why, painting pumpkins of course. We made a swing by the grocery store and inspected numerous pumpkins until we finally chose three perfectly robust, deep orange pumpkins. You know because painting pumpkins is so fun I wasn't about to miss out on that activity.


Mason could hardly wait to get home I swear he tried to bust open the paint in the car. Against all odds and my fabulous luck he failed his mission. I am fairly certain I heard "is it time to paint pun'kins yet, dis is taking sooo wong" about fifty six times in a fifteen minute drive home. Alas, we pulled in the driveway and raced inside to begin pumpkin (or pun'kin) masterpieces!


I carefully poured little runny puddles of colorful paint on to a paper plate, gathered lots of brushes, cups of water, and Mason's secret "snack" he somehow snuck in to the grocery cart to our backyard. It was time to get festive. So we did.



Max took right to the paint. He loved it - on his belly and hands and even as dessert. Max's recklessness was not appealing to Mason, the world's most easily stressed three year old. He was panicking...Max was making a mess, he was mixing all the colors, oh heavens no who does THAT? I don't know what I was dreaming of when I only set up one color palette for painting. I should have known better. These are my kids after all, I should wise up.

Mason excitedly spotted his mystery snack. In the cutest little voice ever he asked, "You got dat for me mommy? You are teh best mommy ever, I wuv you". I guess he meant you didn't realize I'd snuck a COKE in our basket while Max was screaming and throwing everything off the racks of every aisle we attempted to go down? You won Mase, you snuck it past me, but don't think it'll be that easy with the booze in thirteen years buddy. He won indeed. Sipped it right down with a festive ORANGE straw.



After the old fashioned coke was demolished, a spurt of energy appeared. Enthusiasm rekindled and painting ensued. Mason took a lot of time and worked hard, painting his tiny little pumpkin for nearly thirty minutes. I ended up having to force him to stop because between all the mixing of colors his pumpkin was starting to look rotten - well, a rotten masterpiece I mean.


The mosquitoes were in full force taking no prisoners and not quite taking the hint that it's FALL, or that were pretending it is. Lastly, Max had ingested more paint that was on all three of our pumpkins and I know, I know it's non-toxic, but the thoughts of what color diaper I was going to end up with tomorrow at 9:00 AM were more than enough to go ahead and end our lovely activity.


We are already painting pumpkins - so c'mon Fall, do your damn thing already.

shining through.

Personality is the first trait that I envision when I find out another baby is joining our family, but often the last to surface. Admittingly I spend many months wondering "who will this little muffin look like?" Yet upon meeting, you instantly get to see who's nose they got, what color hair and eyes they ended up with and if they unfortunately got stuck with your fat feet or not. But personality stays at bay months on end. You often get a tiny glimpse in to their personality the whole first year, between the frequency of smiles versus tantrums.

Max your personality is finally shining through in big ways. It's been long awaited since I first met you and saw your deep, dark eyes and your chubby little feet (sorry about those by the way, it's all mama's doing). You looked so different than I pictured you, so far from what I imagined, you were even better. Suddenly, I knew the same would go for your personality. And I was right - it's better than I could have ever dreamt. Through hopes and dreams and high anticipation you beat all the expectations I ever conceived.

I could write you a letter telling you all of your accomplishments and which milestones your hitting, but that is so routine. We know you love bananas and clapping and balls and can "woof". We know you hate your carseat and bathtime. But I want to let you know the joy of your disposition.


You are a boy's boy. You walk outside and the minute the air touches your face, you light up. Dirt, sticks, splashing in water and skinning your knees all take precendence over being read and sang to. You shine brightest when outside. Even if your shorts get damp or your hands are stained with mud you never whimper, not even a whisper of discontent. Anger and sadness are not your forte. Deep belly laughing and remaining easy going despite any obstacles are your specialities. Your nature is what makes you so special to me, because you are like no one else I know. You are unique in this way that I can't fully grasp because it is so far from me that sometmies I question how I could essentially create someone as exceptional, extraordinary and remarkable as you.

You are a smiler and your smile is full of teeth and emotion. You love so deeply, so affectionately, so openly. You hug with the strength of multiple grown men, possessing so much strength in such a small being. See, size really doesn't matter. You are this tiny little guy with undiluted, simple and pure, joy for everything, each and every moment of your day you shine. Your smile shines like your personality - blazing vividly, a lustrous beam, a radiant sheen.

You my dear assuredly have incredible potential, with character like yours the world is at your fingertips. You love unconditionally, smile from your heart, you warm a room immediately when you laugh, you make everyday better. You are so unique and I love you so much - every bit of you that is so foreign from me. This personality you've got is starting to shine and baby boy, somethings telling me that your little light is pronounced and bold; your little light will never burn out.

Keep shining sweet Max in all that you do and all that you are.

we've got the blues!

The baby BOY blues. We snuck out for an elective 3d/4d ultrasound to get a peek at love nugget's gender. Surprise (or not so much) it's another boy. I told myself I wouldn't be surprised if we found out it was a third boy, because it makes sense that it would be another boy and not a girl if you think about it. I'm not sure how reproductive odds really work, but they are a little skewed from 50/50 in my case. Clearly.

Nuggey had something to share. Lo and behold, here he showed us that mommy's intuition...sucked. All the morning sickness and other wives tales that indicated girl were way off. Nuggey showing us his trickster side already.


We are all so excited. Actually Max has no clue what's going on, I don't think he will ever know what hit him come March. And actually Mason was a little bummed. I told him that our new baby was a boy baby, in my most excited, convincing voice. He looked at me genuinely confused and told me that "Maybe we could send it back. Because that's too much boy babies". Ummm, maybe. If the stork wants to send us his exchange policy Mase. So I guess Michael and I were the excited ones. These brothers of nuggey's will come around. One day they'll be so thankful there is no teenage girl residing in their house to contend with.


So there you have it. Final score boys- 3, girls- 0. I'm outnumbered, again. I was officially outnumbered when we found out Max was a boy, so this puts us to the point of no return! Three little munchkins, three little boys, three little MEN. I don't know what concept is harder to grasp - another baby or another boy!

I can't wait to meet you, nuggey and smell your sweet newborn head and kiss your soft little hands and snuggle you at all hours of the night. The newest baby boy and I think you'll fit right in. See you soon nuggey. In the meantime, enjoy all the calories I'm sending your way.

it's my birthday!

Well, it was. Last week I celebrated my birthday and it was so awesome. I'm not sure if being with all my family or the Snickers cheesecake made it so kick ass, but I'm thinking maybe it was the combo, but a little more nougatocity. That's a real word, in fact, it's in the dictionary...the Urban Dictionary. Nougatocity often occurs during or at the end of eating a wonderfully delicious Snickers candy bar. Or cheesecake. Yum.

We celebrated at La Gloria Ice House. The food was yummy, the atmosphere was bustling and the company was impeccable. My kids even ate their whole meal with minimal fussing. Mase was partially enthralled with an iPhone from Aunt Yaya and Max was fully spoiled in the arms of his grandmas (who had too much fun wearing superhero capes). Allegedly.

Everyone enjoyed too much food and cold, refreshing margaritas (except the birthday girl). I can't believe I thought Mexican food sans margaritas or imported beer was a good idea when pregnant. But I did it. My margarita was nougat. Or something close to it...pretty much as intoxicating.

It's funny how when you get older birthday's mean more, because you realize they only come once a year and a year is a long time and it's kind of like this huge reflection of how busy and crazy your life has gotten in the past 365 days. Every September 8th I kind of think wow that was a quick year it's already my birthday again, what did I even do or accomplish this year?

But when your 3.5 that is not what a birthday is about and my inquiring, enthusiastic preschooler wanted to know what kind of birthday I was having and what kind of cake I wanted and how many dinosaur toys I'd be receiving. He was mortified I would not be picking a theme related to prehistoric beasts, pirates, or superheros. When you are three if you don't have a theme, well it's not really even your birthday. Mason was extremely concerned the night before my birthday while I was tucking him in, reminding him that, "When we wake up it's mommy's birthday!" His face immediately showed distress. And then came the wrath of 21 questions. Who would get me a cake? He was much too little to get to the store. I'd better remind daddy that my birthday was tomorrow or I'd wake up with no balloons, no toys and worst of all "no pwincess cake". I assured him that someone would remember to get me a cake. And if I needed to remind daddy it was my birthday we'd be packing up all our toys (okay, I didn't really tell him that).


I did not have to remind Michael and instead woke up to roses, lots of candy, cupcakes and even some sparkling cider (in yo face Margaritaville). Michael served and cleaned breakfast to the munchkins and it was a happy birthday indeed! And hey, I ended up with a cake. Have I mentioned that yet? Because it was the bomb and I know I've mentioned it. But alas, when you grow up, you can bear the thought of letting someone else blow out your candles. So long as they're cute.

when life gives you lemons

You make lemonade right? So what do we do when the forecast brings on loads of rain? We play it in it. Obviously.


Playing in the rain is more fun than you can imagine. I even enjoyed the freeing experience this past Tuesday as well. It'd been pouring for nearly twenty-four hours and we even had some flash flood warnings and street closures in the area.

So Max and I went and scooped Mason up an hour early from school, rushed home, got our rain boots on (and our pants off...?) and puddled jumped, splashed around, and ran in the rain.
Don't you love their fashion? Okay, the headband was my doing, but the humidity and the rain combined made for stringy face bangs that Max detested. He much preferred my headband. Mason's lovely ensemble on the other hand is totally his doing. As we put on his boots he informed me that he could NOT play in the rain wearing shorts. I thought he wanted pants - but by the time I'd gotten some he already had his boots and umbrella ready by the door. I didn't have the heart to force any bottoms on him.


If were breaking teh rules and playing in the rain - heck we may as well break some fashion rules right? Fashion faux-pas # 1 - Crocs + headband. Faux-pas # 2 - Rainboots + boxer briefs. Although I have to admit I think Mason looks pretty cute. I mean he is just 3 and if undies and rainboots aren't what being three is all about then life is not fun.


We splashed for nearly 30 minutes before I thought hey, maybe these kids need to warm up. So we went inside for a warm bubble bath and snuggled up in bed for an afternoon of watching Monsters Inc. It was a lovely afternoon, even though the forecast tried to rain on our parade.


When the forecast shows rain, put on your boots and get out there for some splashin'! Don't forget your shark boxers.

hey, he's got favorites too!

I am the worst mom ever. You guys wouldn't even know I had a second child other than his cute little face up in the corner icon. I feel like my blog posts are grossly unfair. It's hard because Mason talks and says lots of funny things that I feel like I need to write down and quick because they are witty and cutesy.

But Maximo is his own little character sans words. Well, hey he can say a handful of nonsense - like ball and hi and daddy! My favorite is the combination of "aye addy" right when Michael walks through the door. We are usually all so ecstatic for Daddy that Maximo bolts to the door waving and "aye" - ing and sometimes clapping away. Hell I usually feel like a round of applause is appropriate too.

Some of Maximo's favorites are grapes of any color, chocolate milk, brushing his teeth, the toothbrush in general, dancing, destroying story time, night lights, pillows, being diaper-less, being outside, dogs, birds and noodles.
Not such fan favorites for Max are watermelon, white milk, eggs, bath time, swimming, the feeling of grass on his bare feet, nail cutting, movies or any television, having to share and being gated away from stair climbing.
He has a few baby tricks and will still high five til the sun goes down. He likes to blow bubbles in a straw. He loves pantry exploring, emptying nicely folded laundry out of baskets, and exploring the fridge. He will climb anything in sight - especially brick fireplaces and couches. He loves to book it to the stairs and sleeps like a champ. He had his fifteen minutes of fame and was featured on a short snippet of the Austin evening news.

We've yet to cut his hair and I think he likes it that way. He's got a head full of curls and eyes as dark as midnight. He's a totally different toddler than Mason was.

So there you have Maximo's favorites - edition "almost 15 month".

P is for.

Piggies.

Popcorn.

Pajama party past noon.