A lot of new words in the last few weeks (on Amelia's part)!
Milk
Please
Bless you
Book
Down
Nose
and I'm pretty sure a word that sounds like Ammim that is supposed to be William. She says it first thing in the morning when she wakes up and points towards his door.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day
It's Mother's Day! The mama in the house had only a few requests this year:
1. A strawberry patch
2. A picture with her and the kids
Lucky for her, she got her wishes!
1. A strawberry patch
2. A picture with her and the kids
Lucky for her, she got her wishes!
We took a lot of photos with Kelly and the two kids, but it was hard to get a good photo of all three. William was really interested in the trucks that he was playing with at the time. So most of the photos he was looking down.
Mama and the big boy! I think he is still holding onto his trucks.
Amelia is making her silly smile face. She cracks us up with this one!
We also like to celebrate the grandmas and great grandmas in our family on this day. Our kids are fortunate enough to have two great grandmas! The kids standing beside my mom's tree. Previous years here and here and here. Everyone is getting so big!
William decided instead of standing next to the tree, he was going to shake the tree.
Amelia is under the tree, William decided to ride his bike around.
William showing Kelly the Mother's Day card we made for her. Unfortunately, he wouldn't let her see it. Or hold it. Or even sit next to her with it. Daddy worked with William on the card awhile ago and he didn't remember all the cool vehicles on the card. He needed a few minutes to admire them for himself.
Still not able to look at it, instead Amelia is showing Mama a book.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
The Routine
It is the same. Every time.
"Bah?" she ask with book in hand.
How can I resist? I put the work of the day aside to read to my baby.
I sit down cross legged on the floor. Any other way throws her off - she doesn't know where to sit. She will stand up and sit on any available body part, stand up and sit, stand up and sit finally turning to me in confusion. Cross legged it is.
She backs up with a tiny giggle in anticipation before plunking her diaper padded behind onto my lap.
Book clasped between her two hands, she kicks her right foot twice into the air before she is ready to begin. Always the right foot and almost always twice. She isn't to be rushed. Open the book before she is ready and the spell is broken. The book is tossed to one side, scolding babble is thrown my direction. She'll get up and turn her attention elsewhere.
She opens the book, snuggles her body into mine and finally is ready to read. Every moment in our lives isn't this precious. I'm working hard to hang on to the memories like these.
Just when I started wondering if I would struggle with getting this one to read, the interest is finally there.
"Bah?" she ask with book in hand.
How can I resist? I put the work of the day aside to read to my baby.
I sit down cross legged on the floor. Any other way throws her off - she doesn't know where to sit. She will stand up and sit on any available body part, stand up and sit, stand up and sit finally turning to me in confusion. Cross legged it is.
She backs up with a tiny giggle in anticipation before plunking her diaper padded behind onto my lap.
Book clasped between her two hands, she kicks her right foot twice into the air before she is ready to begin. Always the right foot and almost always twice. She isn't to be rushed. Open the book before she is ready and the spell is broken. The book is tossed to one side, scolding babble is thrown my direction. She'll get up and turn her attention elsewhere.
She opens the book, snuggles her body into mine and finally is ready to read. Every moment in our lives isn't this precious. I'm working hard to hang on to the memories like these.
Just when I started wondering if I would struggle with getting this one to read, the interest is finally there.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
I debated not telling you this...
because I am deeply afraid that this time next week a half sized tuba is going to show up on our front steps. With a dad in the music business and a cousin-in-law as a euphonium expert, you are not safe talking about tubas in this manner.
You see, William is in love with tubas. He would like to play a real one more than he would like just about anything (see? See why I didn't tell you this?).
It all started innocently enough with a birthday gift of a new book: Tubby the Tuba (with enclosed read a long CD!!). William (and therefore the rest of us) listen at least daily to the adventures of Tubby.
William has started playing his fuzzy yellow blanket as a tuba. When we sing to him at night he tells us to wait so he can get his tuba ready. He carefully wraps his fuzzy yellow blanket around his shoulders, and puts one corner in his mouth. When we start to sing, he plays along by humming along with our song.
Then it grew. Now when we leave the house to run errands, William asks if we can look for a tuba on the way. He used to ask if we could look for a dump truck, train or police car. You know, something possible. Now, we are continually disappointed by the lack of tubas driving around our town. Really, I'm not even sure what we are looking for. A tuba on wheels? A parade? A one man marching band? A tuba painted on the side of the truck?
Please note: I'm sure this is a phase. I'm sure we DO NOT NEED A TUBA at this time.
You see, William is in love with tubas. He would like to play a real one more than he would like just about anything (see? See why I didn't tell you this?).
It all started innocently enough with a birthday gift of a new book: Tubby the Tuba (with enclosed read a long CD!!). William (and therefore the rest of us) listen at least daily to the adventures of Tubby.
William has started playing his fuzzy yellow blanket as a tuba. When we sing to him at night he tells us to wait so he can get his tuba ready. He carefully wraps his fuzzy yellow blanket around his shoulders, and puts one corner in his mouth. When we start to sing, he plays along by humming along with our song.
Then it grew. Now when we leave the house to run errands, William asks if we can look for a tuba on the way. He used to ask if we could look for a dump truck, train or police car. You know, something possible. Now, we are continually disappointed by the lack of tubas driving around our town. Really, I'm not even sure what we are looking for. A tuba on wheels? A parade? A one man marching band? A tuba painted on the side of the truck?
Please note: I'm sure this is a phase. I'm sure we DO NOT NEED A TUBA at this time.
Morning with Daddy
For this blog post, John is writing.
Today I went outside to work on Kelly's Mother's Day present. I'm extending the terracing along the side of our house (the other side had been done for years). Kelly wanted to have the first terrace done for Mother's Day as she wants to try her hand at growing strawberries. Unlike the previous times I've worked on installing retaining wall stones, I now have a helper. William LOVES to help (especially me), whether it be bringing in the groceries, putting in a screw, using some sort of potentially dangerous power tool, or handing nasty chemicals. Of course, he is distraught when he can't help out (dangerous power tool, and nasty chemicals).
So he was outside with me along the side of the house helping me level and put in the retaining wall stones. Now, I'm a tad obsessive-compulsive and I like things to be exactly right. The process involves putting in a little gravel, pounding it down, installing the stone checking the level in multiple directions, adjusting the amount of gravel etc... William helps out by adding more rock to the pile, sometimes when I'm taking it out. He also enjoys getting his feet into the hole to help me pound it down, when I'm trying to use the tamper. I know he's trying to help, but sometimes I'm about to hit the ground with the tamper when he decides that we need a little more gravel and his hand goes underneath. Ack!
I try to think up things that he can do to help out, that aren't dangerous or involve him putting is arms, legs, or hands in danger, but sometimes I can't. Even trying to give him something else to do doesn't seem to work. I remember when my dad was working on building something out of wood, he would give me my own wooden block (had my name on it), a hammer, and a nail and I'd go to town putting the nail into the wood and pulling it back out. I remember doing that happily for hours. However, William seems to see through that and knows Daddy is where the real action can be found.
The retaining wall and the terrace did get done in time for Mother's Day. It took a little longer than it perhaps should have. I hope William feels like he helped me out. I had to keep telling him to stop putting rocks in the hole, and get his feet out.
Anyway, this all made me think. I used to love to help my dad when he was working on different projects, and help my mom out when she was making dinner. It made me think how helpful was I really? Maybe as I got older I became more helpful, I was, but when I was three? If I was as helpful as William is, I'm betting I was more of a nuisance than a help. Remembering and appreciating that time spent learning different skills at the side of my parents helps me find my patience with my own little helper!
Today I went outside to work on Kelly's Mother's Day present. I'm extending the terracing along the side of our house (the other side had been done for years). Kelly wanted to have the first terrace done for Mother's Day as she wants to try her hand at growing strawberries. Unlike the previous times I've worked on installing retaining wall stones, I now have a helper. William LOVES to help (especially me), whether it be bringing in the groceries, putting in a screw, using some sort of potentially dangerous power tool, or handing nasty chemicals. Of course, he is distraught when he can't help out (dangerous power tool, and nasty chemicals).
So he was outside with me along the side of the house helping me level and put in the retaining wall stones. Now, I'm a tad obsessive-compulsive and I like things to be exactly right. The process involves putting in a little gravel, pounding it down, installing the stone checking the level in multiple directions, adjusting the amount of gravel etc... William helps out by adding more rock to the pile, sometimes when I'm taking it out. He also enjoys getting his feet into the hole to help me pound it down, when I'm trying to use the tamper. I know he's trying to help, but sometimes I'm about to hit the ground with the tamper when he decides that we need a little more gravel and his hand goes underneath. Ack!
I try to think up things that he can do to help out, that aren't dangerous or involve him putting is arms, legs, or hands in danger, but sometimes I can't. Even trying to give him something else to do doesn't seem to work. I remember when my dad was working on building something out of wood, he would give me my own wooden block (had my name on it), a hammer, and a nail and I'd go to town putting the nail into the wood and pulling it back out. I remember doing that happily for hours. However, William seems to see through that and knows Daddy is where the real action can be found.
The retaining wall and the terrace did get done in time for Mother's Day. It took a little longer than it perhaps should have. I hope William feels like he helped me out. I had to keep telling him to stop putting rocks in the hole, and get his feet out.
Anyway, this all made me think. I used to love to help my dad when he was working on different projects, and help my mom out when she was making dinner. It made me think how helpful was I really? Maybe as I got older I became more helpful, I was, but when I was three? If I was as helpful as William is, I'm betting I was more of a nuisance than a help. Remembering and appreciating that time spent learning different skills at the side of my parents helps me find my patience with my own little helper!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Grandpa Heidt
Grandpa Heidt came to town this weekend, and we had a lot of fun visiting with him. On Friday night we went and took the kids to Dairy Queen. The kids were not the only ones who enjoyed this treat.
William working the controls of the Big Boy. He wanted to ring the bell, but John told him it wasn't working because it didn't ring when he tried pulling the cord. Later on, we heard some other kids ringing the bell. Oops! Maybe next time.
We also took a tour of some train cars. Eventually, we had to leave, which was too soon for William (and Grandpa).
Grandpa wrangling a more mobile, stubborn, and determined Amelia. And yes, we fed her ice cream. She would honestly rather explore/climb/run than do anything else.
William enjoying his chocolate ice cream cone. Believe me this kid can nurse a ice cream cone! He ends up with a soggy cone and melted ice cream goop.
On Saturday, we took a trip down to the Transportation Museum to look at some of William's favorite things. Trains, and cars. Unknown to us, was there was admission was free and there was a Mustang car show going on! William and Grandpa Heidt were thrilled!
On Saturday, we took a trip down to the Transportation Museum to look at some of William's favorite things. Trains, and cars. Unknown to us, was there was admission was free and there was a Mustang car show going on! William and Grandpa Heidt were thrilled!
William sitting in the cab of some train engine while Amelia looks on.
William working the controls of the Big Boy. He wanted to ring the bell, but John told him it wasn't working because it didn't ring when he tried pulling the cord. Later on, we heard some other kids ringing the bell. Oops! Maybe next time.
We also took a tour of some train cars. Eventually, we had to leave, which was too soon for William (and Grandpa).
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