Where's Caleb??

So today was a strange one.

Caleb showed us that he is indeed a climber; first displaying his upper body strength at the park as he palmed a swing beam hand over hand until he cleared the other side.

Then he stumped us all as he decided it was the perfect time to visit his new hide-out: on TOP of the open garage door. Think about it, ... , get a visual, and then i'll explain.
...
So he climbs ON TOP of our van, then hoists himself onto the open garage door which is now suspended at the top of our garage. NOT, by the way, made to hold a human of any size, though we were thankful he weighs in these days at a scrappy 42 lbs.

Ey yeh yeh ...

And then, as if that weren't enough to shut my heart down, this afternoon I'm up on their swingset tower staining the wood. "Hey Mom!" I hear from across the yard. Don't see him, don't see him, ... "I'm up here!" he shouts. Holy Pine Tree, he IS "up there"!! No lie, at least 20 feet high into a not-so-healthy giant pine tree!!! I'm attaching pictures of this sickly beast. Praise God for his angels of protection for my boy! I am still cringing at the sight of him in both of those terrible places and counting our blessings that both situations ended innocently enough.

Diet Starts Monday!

7 months ~ for 7 months I've been saying "I'll work out tomorrow", "this is my last fast-food trip", "no more snacking at midnight". And now, 7 months later, Im something sfot I'd like to cozy up with. Super fluff. Weighing in at 10 lbs more than I weighed when I left the hospital. Not okay.

I have two weeks before I need to put on a dress and pretend that I'm a grown up. So I'm telling myself that if I put this on the blog I'd have all of this accountability. Really, I mean it (I think). Should you see me before May 28th with a donut in my hand or a carbonated beverage in my mouth feel free to slap my hand, heimlich me, or use whatever means necessary to save my waistline.

I am making one last exception because tonight there is one remaining container of homemade tomatillo sauce mocking me along with its friend Wholly Guacamole. Tonight we dance.

Tomorrow, ... watch out. This isn't going to be pretty. I will apologize now for my short-temper, frazzled display, and outbursts of rage.

In two weeks this will all be worth it.

Little Monkeys

Avery was designed to climb. Not sure why, though I have a suspicion that it has something to do with helping me stay vigilant on my watchpost of motherhood. Avery is the child who, at the tender age of 18 months, had the fine motor capacity to zip her pjs, pick her nails and hold a pen with perfect form. I think it's this dexterity that allows her to also have the ability to scale inanimate objects to their highest potential. Thankfully, she is not a jumper (see below). Instead, once she reaches this height, she simply grabs the most dangerous item visible to begin her next adventure. This week the highlights have been: pushing kitchen chair to counter, climbing counter, grabbing closed, boxed, and sealed package of multivitamins, grabbing butcher knife on the way down, and sitting in the corner, cross-legged and innocent looking, stabbing open the box to eat her favorite forbidden treat of chewable gummy vitamins. Also on the itenerary: scaling black rack in kitchen to reach crayons, toilet to sink to reach toothpaste which she then painted the bathroom rug with, and my favorite (thankfully thwarted!) plan of kitchen chair, to kitchen counter, to stool she placed ON TOP of kitchen counter to open cabinet shelf (here's where I stopped her) to reach the birthday cake placed on top of the kitchen cabinets in our pseudo-storage.
Each of these adventures, when interupted, are met with the most adorable smirk and shrug as she saunters off to her next adventure.

Avery was meant to climb as Caleb was designed to jump. I was convinced that Caleb, as a toddler, was going to break a bone before the age of three. At 5 and a half he has still yet to do so, though he has a roadmap of scars with chipped tooth landmarks to tell of his tales of adventure. He jumps, fearlessly, off of anything and everything taller than he, as if it's sole purpose was to be the platform of his next feat.
Though we have outfitted their new swingset with all of the fun gadgets most kids would be enamored with, Caleb's mission is to climb to the highest point and jump. It's a wonder he hasn't broken any bones but, seeing as how he's only made of skin and bones God must have blessed him with a super-solid set.

And So It Begins

Though I don't think Matt has started with any "Corny Dad Jokes" the day officially came last week where I became a MOM. You know, the one with all the sayings that we rolled our eyes at as kids and no one knows where they came from.

Somehow I managed to hit them all in the same week. Each time I knew it was coming and fought so hard to find my way around each of them, but, in the end, the words were tried and true:

"No, we don't use our hands for hitting" "Son, we're headed to your activity but we do not have to go if you can't be nice" ... "I mean it, I'll turn this car around!"

"You know what, honey? (I thought if I started sweeter I could avoid the rest, but it came anyway) If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." Doesn't matter how nicely you try to say it. Even in your best "teaching voice" it comes out the same.

And my favorite (though, again, I really tried to get around it). It started with: (Use your imagination for which child), "I know that didn't really hurt you that badly." "No, you need to settle down." "We don't scream like that because pizza crust fell on your leg." "Seriously, you're going to tell me that caused you this severe amount of pain?" (see it escalating?? trying. to. fight. back.) ... "This is not worth crying about!" (Uh oh. Here it comes:) "I'll give you something to cry about." And I didn’t even mean that as a threat of bodily harm like the phrase implied when we were little. I really just meant that she didn’t have to have any pizza if it was causing her this much physical pain. And THAT would be something worth crying about.
I can only imagine what’s going to come next.