The First Haircut

Brian, Chloe, Evan, and I went back to NJ for Thanksgiving.  And there is definitely a lot to share from the trip.  So much that I'm going to have to do about 4 posts just on this topic (until you are so sick of reading about it that you force me to come up with something interesting from our everyday life).

One of the biggest events that happened is my little man got his first haircut... and I didn't cry (true story).  I know it seems that 27 months is a long time to wait for the first haircut but let's talk a little walk down memory lane... shall we?

Evan Semi-Bald at 6 months:

(I know - can you believe this is my little man?)

Evan, still semi-bald at 1 year (actually on his first birthday):

And then all the sudden, this is what happened:

(The genius salon put on Sprout to entertain him... he is so cute with his disheveled locks.)

So, as you can see, when we arrived at the Barber shop, he had no idea what was about to happen and was happy to jump right up on the chair.  Didn't even blink, he just sat there watching TV.

 The woman cutting his hair made a comment that she couldn't believe how good he was.  That he just sat there and let her cut his hair.  I didn't have the heart to tell her that the truth was he was closely watching every move she made and was enthralled by all the new "toys" she used.  I have no doubt that is I put a pair of scissors in his hands he would try to use them to cut his hair.  He stored all the information somewhere in his scary scary brain.

Every request she made he did without delay.  She told him to turn his head and he did it.  She kept waiting for him to be confused or to be ornery but it never happened.  I am always amazed at his ability to handle new situations with interest rather than fear.

As a side note... love the hair dresser.  But isn't she about as Jersey as you can get?  This, ladies and gentlemen, is the real Jersey... sadly not too far from what you see on TV.

And here is the best part of the entire experience... apparently the only photo I took of his final haircut was with my phone.  And I have one of those old phones where the picture doesn't easily transfer to my computer.  I do this... it's not really a surprise.  It's kind of like on our honeymoon when I had a camera that actually used film and I was surprised since I thought I had a 36 (or whatever) picture roll in the camera but I was able to continue to take pictures after 36 and then, when we got home, and I went to develop the pictures it turns out I didn't have any film in the camera.  And somehow my life just keeps moving forward.

Luckily, he got his haircut the day before Thanksgiving.  So here is a picture of the little man on Thanksgiving with his haircut:

I know you can't tell from this far away picture but the cut is really cute.  And on top of that he kept his curls!  I was super worried about this, but it turns out his curls are from the root so they aren't going anywhere.  Now, on to obsess about Chloe's hair...

Do you think the "curls" off of her mohawk will stick around if I cut it?  Don't worry, a haircut is not coming anytime soon for her.

Ramblings

Three out of the four of us were sick this weekend (Chloe was spared) and according to Brian when I get sick I ramble.  So I thought I'd do something rambling for you.

Chloe started solid food two weeks ago.  She has done really well and this time around I'm making her food (but totally draw the line at pureeing meat, that I will buy).  She enjoys her cereal, butternut squash, banana, and peas.  She LOVES avocado... another one.  And then she got constipated (surprise... poor girl).  So Brian and I followed the advice on our pediatrician's website (because they are totally in the 21st century) and gave her 6 oz of apple juice yesterday.  Yeah, she is no longer constipated.  Now I'll be mixing her cereal with prune juice to help out and I'm shelving the bananas for a while.

On another note Evan is really helpful when I'm feeding Chloe.  You know, doing random things like taking her spoon, climbing on her high chair, trying to get her to pull his hair, and other really helpful things. 

I need to apologize to other parents.  It just isn't fair that my child is so incredibly cute (sorry... and that is said with no sarcasm dripping from it, none at all, not even a little):

I'm writing a new book called, "1001 Ways to Play with Acorns: How to Raise a Child Who Doesn't Play with Toys."  Seriously, Evan plays with anything that is not a toy (for example: spatula, coins, acorns, extension cords, breast pump, allen wrench, all the really safe things).  He has always been like this, even as a baby he wanted a pen rather than a rattle.  Chloe loves her toys.  She also loves remote controls and plastic bags.

Look who is almost sitting up on her own:

It's kind of funny when she falls over into the pillows because she just sits there and moans... and then I rescue her.  She also now rolls from her back to her stomach and back.  She even pushed against Brian's feet today and seemed to scootch a little on her stomach.  I'm completely against her getting mobile and am currently plotting on how to make that not happen.

When we go to Trader Joe's Evan gets two things, 1) a sample and often more than one... his favorite last weekend was the gouda with cranberries, and 2) stickers.  For some reasons the stickers always end up on me and more specifically on my chest:

I leave them there.  Hey, I'm a mom.

This weekend Brian seemed to get better faster than I did so he got up with the kids.  Apparently they are good for him in the morning (unlike for me when we always have at least one meltdown).  However, there is photo evidence that they aren't always happy (well, at least Evan isn't):

In Brian's defense... there were 6 other photos where Evan was smiling but I actually like this face the best.  Maybe it's because it's the face I most often see throughout the day.

Today Brian made my baby laugh.  It's one of the reasons I love him.  It is well worth watching the entire thing:

My goal is to be completely healthy by tomorrow so maybe I'll stop rambling by then... we'll see.

I'm a Safety Girl

This, my friends, is the definition of safety:

A child in a Bumbo on the middle of the dining room table playing with a plastic bag with a glass jar at her feet. Seriously, the only thing missing is the crack pipe.

Or the half naked older brother... oh wait, he was there too, being unsafe as well precariously perched on a chair:

I don't think I'm going to be nominated for any parenting awards any time soon.  Probably even more so since I actually stopped to take a picture instead of stopping this nonsense.

Growing Up...

My babies are growing up [sniff... wipe away tear].  This morning Chloe decided if she could roll one way then she could roll back (but she's only done it once so far).  My mom made some comment about Chloe growing up (which I had already thought of and decided to completely ignore since it made me emotional) and I had to correct her for 2 reasons, 1) Chloe is only 6 months old... that is not grown up yet, and 2) if I think Chloe is growing up then I'm going to want another baby and I'm not physically, emotionally, or sleep-wise ready for that (and may never be).

But even though I'm choosing to ignore her growing up... she's doing it anyway (is this a foreshadowing) and we had her 6-month check-up today:

Weight: 17lbs 9 oz (76.62%)
Height: 25.3 inches (30.27%)
Head: 17.2 inches (84.6% - still smaller than Evan's has ever been)

So, she is still on par to end up like her mother (short and... umm... round?) but she doesn't look like that at all.  Basically, her torso is so long that she is in 9 months onesies but I have to fold the arms and legs back because her limbs haven't caught up.  But all you see when you look at her is cuteness:

And the little man?  Well... his speech becomes more impressive every day.  He is now speaking in 3-4 word sentences (although sometimes it comes out a little mixed up and he sounds like Yoda) and using articles (I swear... Brian also heard him say "Read the book").  Here is a clip of him performing... almost:

I know they are going to continue to grow up... but I'm not ready for this.

It's Feeding Time...

That's right Ladies and Gentlemen... Chloe has started her adventure with solid food (mostly because I got sick of her staring longingly at my fork each night at dinner).  And, so far, she is doing much better than her brother who spent the first few times spitting the food right out.

At first she wasn't so sure:

But she opened her mouth anyway...

And then she made this face (and I don't really blame her... that stuff just looks and smells gross - although Evan had a bite and said it wasn't too bad):

She ate about 6 spoonfuls her first time out and didn't spit any of it out.  She wasn't so sure why she was doing it, but she did it anyway (which is a personality trait that I think will make my life much easier with her than with her brother... that is IF it is a personality trait and not a phase).

Brian was able to catch some on video... of the end of her meal when she was much more uncooperative:

So far I've only fed her twice (we skipped yesterday morning because we had to get up early and get out the door to drop off Brian to get his car fixed and pick up a rental) and so far she has eaten both times.  I'm thinking about a week of morning feedings and then we move on.  And then my life will become all about food as I make her bottles (yeah, I need to blog about my decision to stop breastfeeding... don't judge until you hear the story), make her food, make Evan's food, make my food, make Brian's food, clean the dishes and repeat.