Change of Address

After being with dear Blogger for a month-and-a-half now, I've decided to switch over to a different website with more options that Charming has helped me create.

Without further ado, my new blog is now located at: http://heidisblog.biglaughs.org/

(Sorry to make you change all your links and google readers and stuff).

This blog is officially closed. I hope to see you over at the new address often!

Thanks! Bye.

(Aw, I feel sad now. Goodbye Blogger. You've been good to me. See you later).

Thwarted

I had grand plans to neglect the laundry and do an outdoor fall photo shoot with Bubbers today. (I just loved Tearese's).

But given the sudden torrential rainfall, I decided against it. (Speaking of which, it's amazing how threats of a severe windstorm can motivate me to organize my food storage. Very quickly. And with great gusto).

So, I switched plans.

(This is when Charming prays that I decided to do the laundry).

I set up Heidi's Portrait Studio and took some more 6 mos. pictures of Bubbers. Yay!!

(Sorry, Love).

After I get all my sessions done, I'll post some of his pictures.

In the meantime... Here are some pictures from our official 6 mos. check-up (a euphemism for needles, Tylenol and banshee crying).

-----

"Hello, internet. Are you getting vaccinated, too?"





Check-ups are a family affair. Mom comforts the banshee baby.



And Dad comforts the Mom.

Be Still My Heart

What started out as two ceiling hooks and one piece of black fabric, has wonderfully multiplied to five ceiling hooks and five pieces of black fabric.

Oh yeah, baby.

Wall-to-wall. Ceiling-to-floor.

Heidi's Portrait Studio, here I come...

p.s. Huge thanks to dear friend Kathy. Not only did she jam up her surger sewing the fabric ends for me--she gave me a plate of fresh pumpkin cookies to boot. Wow. Now that's a real woman for you. When I grow up, I want to be like Kathy. (I'd never even heard of a surger before...)

Sock Football!

I'm not quite sure how to preface this video...

A few weeks ago, Charming figured out that Bubbers loves having a pair of socks thrown at him.

Yes, socks.

I have no idea where Charming comes up with these things, but I'm sure glad he does, because it makes for some really fun laughs!

-------------------

Keep an eye out for my two favorites:

1. Bubbers has figured out the fun of "anticipating" what's going to happen.

2. Bubbers makes himself cough.

-------------------

Also, if you haven't seen our scare video, yet, you should check it out--it's priceless!

A Scanning Celebration

A couple years ago, I confiscated all my Mom's photo albums and negatives so I could scan every single one.

Why?

1: I love the sense of control I feel to know I have digital copies of every single picture my parents took. (Is that weird or what?)

2: I'm going to use them in my latest DVD project. (That's the "normal" sounding reason I gave my Mom for stealing all her pictures).

So, last night I finished scanning my Mom's eighth gargantuan photo album. (293 pictures. A bit of a relief after 489 scans for album #7).

I've only got about three more albums to go. Woohoo!

As a celebration for my scanning success thus far, I'm posting some of my favorite pictures for your viewing pleasure...

Check out these strollers! (I'm in the one on the right).

I'd never seen this picture and I was fascinated to see how much baby paraphernalia has changed in 20 some-odd years. These things are basically metal bars with seats and wheels.

The word that came to my mind when I saw these: Ouch!

Check out this walker! (This is one of my older brothers).

Again--metal bars with a seat and wheels. Wow! I don't think I could have started Bubbers in this as early as I did in our walker now.

I liked this picture for a few reasons... The swing was cool (more metal bars with a seat).

But my favorite part is this neat feeling I have seeing my two older sisters next to me like that. They look so pretty and feminine to me. And very protective. I just like it.

I also like that it reminds me of Bubbers. I look about his age right now, so it makes me think of him. And whenever I think of him, I smile inside and the world is at peace.

This is me asleep on my brother's bed. I loved this because it totally made me think of Bubbers.

There's something magical about watching your baby sleep. Seeing me asleep with all those warm colors around me just feels good. Do you know what I mean?

(It also blows my mind to think I was ever a baby like Bubbers. And I wonder what Bubbers will be like when he's my age. And then I feel sad and happy at the same time).

This is my Mom's all-time favorite picture of me as a young tot. She loves how ginormous my eyes are.

This is me and my brother, Beaster. We've always been good buddies. And I love how we look here.

I'd never seen this picture, either, but I just fell in love with it.

It's all 8 of us kids as a Nativity scene. Is that just cool or what? (I'm the littlest angel).

This is one of my all-time favorites. It reminds me of one our Christmas traditions...

Every Christmas morning, we lined up oldest to youngest. Then one at a time we'd go into the living room and find our stocking full of gifts (while my Dad videotaped).

If my younger sister had been born and in this picture, then it would really be perfect. (I'm the little caboose at the end).

-----------------

Ah, that was nice. Thanks for taking a trip through time with me. :)

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape

I fed my son this morning at 3:00 a.m. Afterwards, I slid back into my wonderfully soft, warm bed.

I closed my eyes and sighed, waiting for luxurious sleep to be restored.

I waited. And waited.

You want to know what came to me instead of sleep? What suddenly began playing in my head and wouldn't stop?

This.

Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
Dumbledore!
Snape, Snape, Severus Snape
Dumbledore!

Over and over and over in my head.

It's all Charming's fault. No more watching or singing bizarre YouTube videos before bedtime.

If you want to feel old or depressed...

...read your own will.

I'm pretty anal about tying up loose ends. Like as soon as we bought our first home, I had Charming take out a life insurance policy to cover the home's cost while I was still in school.

And then after Bubbers was born, I wanted to get a will to say who'll get him if we die. So, we did. (Get a will, not die).

A few weeks ago, we sat in an office with a lawyer who used words I'd never heard and asked questions I'd never heard (mostly about assets and stuff).

I kept thinking, I don't care about all these money questions, all that matters to me is that Bubbers goes to the people we want.

Then I realized the money does help take care of Bubbers, too, so I tried to care more about it.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to be morbid or all gloom and doom. I'm just trying to take care of this wonderfully chubby and adorable son that God has given me.

You better believe I have every intention of being around for my 120th wedding anniversary. But just in case, I want to make sure that Bubbers will always be in a loving home with righteous parents and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

So if that means I have to read and sign papers with the words "LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF HEIDI..." across the top, then I will. Even if it makes me suddenly and keenly aware of my mortality. And even if it makes me cry while changing my son's diaper and seeing his cute, chubby thighs.

At least it will help me sleep better at night. After all, it made a huge difference in Charming's life.

I'll bet his first adoptive mom felt at peace when she passed away, knowing that her dear boy was going to the two people on earth she wanted to have him.

This whole will thing has also got me thinking about Heavenly Father... When my husband and I sat down and had the discussion of, "Who would we want to raise our son?" it made me wonder if that happens in the pre-mortal life.

Now that I have my own child, I realize the importance of that decision.

"Who do you entrust with your most precious gift? With this little life you've created and loved?"

How sad Heavenly Father must be when sending His dear children to terrible homes.

And in contrast, how happy He must be when sending them to wonderful homes.

This makes me want to be a home that Heavenly Father enjoys sending His children to.

The Chicken Story, Part Three

Heaven smiled on me that day and sent a blessed angel to save me from imminent pain. An angel in the form of my Mother.

Just before my Father reached me, my Mother swooped in.

"I'm sorry, Honey," she said to my enraged Father, "But Heidi has to go get her shots for kindergarten right now."

Still frozen, I looked sideways at my Mother.

I knew we weren't really supposed to go until after dinner, but there was no way in Hades I was going to contradict my salvation. So I just kept my mouth shut.

"How about we settle this after we get back?" Mother sweetly suggested, reaching out and taking me by the shoulders.

My Father looked at her and then he looked at me. Finally, he nodded and turned back to the pile of dead chickens.

Practically going limp from relief in my Mother's arms, I went with her to the car and we immediately drove away.

-----------

"So what happened then?" our dinner guests always ask.

"I ended up spending the rest of the night in my room," I explain, "I considered myself quite lucky, considering what could have happened to me..."

This is when my husband always cuts in.

"Oh, but that's not the whole story," Charming smiles that devilish grin again, "Tell them whose chickens they were."

"Weren't they your chickens?" the dinner guests ask me.

"Well, some of them were... I found out later that most of them weren't even ours. We were taking care of them for a lady from church who was out of town," I grimace.

Clearly enjoying this, Charming continues, "And who had to tell the lady that you killed her chickens?"

I pause, and then finally sigh, "My brother."

"Her brother! Can you believe that? Heidi kills off this lady's whole flock of chickens, and her poor brother is the one who has to tell the lady," my husband exclaims, "Where's the justice in that?"

"I didn't know he did that until years later!" I try to defend myself, "He worked for the lady, so I guess my parents just had him tell her when she got back in town. He offered to have us replace her chickens, but she said they were her pets, and you couldn't replace pets."

By this time, Charming is howling with laughter and all I can do is shrug.

"Would you like some more chicken?" I offer our guests with an innocent smile.

-----------

In homage to those poor creatures who died at my hands over 20 years ago, I post this.

My rubber chicken.

(A poignant gift from my middle school speech teacher who couldn't stop laughing after he heard this story).

The Chicken Story, Part Two

All thought of the captured chickens flew completely out of my head...

...until my Father came home from work that evening.

-----------

"Don't forget the forks," my Mother said.

I took the forks from the counter and continued setting our large table for dinner.

"It looks like your Father's home," she said, watching his car pull up the driveway.

"Oh, good," I said, "I'm hungry!"

"Don't forget, we're going to go get the rest of your shots for kindergarten after dinner," she reminded me.

I frowned, "Okay."

Then I sat in my assigned chair and hungrily waited for everyone to come.

"I wonder what's taking your Father so long to come in..." my Mother mused outloud, looking out the window again.

"I don't know," I shrugged.

"Heiiidiii!!"

My head jerked up as the anger in my Father's voice immediately seized me.

He was still outside somewhere. The yell sounded like he was near the garage, maybe by the--

"Oh no!" I gasped outloud, fear gripping my heart, "THE CHICKENS!!"

-----------

"Come here," he said through clenched teeth.

Meekly, I walked closer to the chicken coop.

My Father was standing inside the coop, next to the garbage cans.

Afraid to look, I peered silently up at him with bowed head as he reached down and took the lid off the first can.

Two frightened chickens flew out and landed on the ground. I waited for others to follow, but they didn't.

My Father's eyes bore into mine for a long minute. Then he slowly bent down and began counting.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven..." he methodically counted each and every lifeless chicken as he pulled it out of the can and laid it on the ground.

I just stared.

"...eight, nine, ten..." he continued on, it seemed like forever.

When he finally reached the bottom of the can, he turned to the second can. Again, when he opened the lid only a few chickens flew out.

If possible, my little body stood even more still.

The counting began anew as my Father pulled more dead chickens out of this can.

Finally, he opened the last can and, thankfully, all the pigeons had survived.

Amidst the pile of dead chickens, my Father turned back to me in slow motion. Then he began to walk towards me.

Heaven help me, I prayed silently, I'm a murderer, and now I'm going to die.


To be continued...

The Chicken Story, Part One

Every time we have someone over for dinner, my husband inevitably turns to me with a devilish grin and knowing look in his eyes.

Oh, no, here it comes...

"Hey, Heidi," he'll say, "Why don't you tell them The Chicken Story?"

"The Chicken Story?" our guests repeat in bewilderment.

Then Charming laughs, folds his arms and settles back in his chair, waiting for the show to begin.

"You won't believe this," he always says, "It's hilarious."

Then I shake my head, take a deep breath and begin.

"Well, I grew up on a farm of sorts, and when I was five years old, I made up this game I used to play with our chickens..."

-------------

"Heidi!" my Mother called from the front porch, "Lunch will be ready in five minutes!"

"Okay!" I hastily called back, barely pausing from my game.

"Here, chicky, chicky, chicky," I said softly, tiptoeing across the chicken coop with my eyes glued to the corner of the coop, "I'm not going to hurt you."

When I got close enough, I shot out my little arm and grabbed the unsuspecting chicken. She immediately started flapping like crazy.

"Whoah! You're okay, you're okay!" I said, feathers and dirt flying into my face.

I quickly ran the flailing creature over to the three garbage cans on the other side of the coop.

I pulled the lid off the nearest can, stuffed the chicken inside and closed the lid before that chicken, or any of the others inside, could fly out.

"Ruff, ruff!" our cocker spaniel barked excitedly.

Tammy watched me from outside the coop and wagged her tail wildly.

I bent down and smiled at her through the chicken wire.

"Hey girl!" I said, putting out my hand for her to lick through the wire, "I'm doing good today, huh?"

More tail wagging.

"I only have two chickens left, can you believe that?!" I whispered confidentially, "I've never caught them all before, but today I'm going to!"

Then I turned back to the coop. I chased down the last remaining chickens and promptly stuffed them in the cans with the rest of their flock.

Dusting off my hands, I smiled down at Tammy.

"I did it!!" I exclaimed, "I caught every single chicken, plus all our pigeons!"

More tail wagging.

"See those two cans?" I pointed, "They're both filled to the top with chickens. And that third one has the pidgeons."

"Heidi!" my Mother called again from the porch, "Lunch is ready!"

"Coming, Mom!" I yelled as I turned and opened the door to the coop.

All thought of the captured chickens flew completely out of my head...


To be continued...

Hardy har har

This weekend was General Conference. That means the whole Mormon world got to listen to our Prophets, Apostles and leaders from Salt Lake City. (As always, it was awesome).

Charming, Bubbers and I watched on the internet. Bubbers did surprisingly well through 8 hours in the same room. (With only one mishap).

Today was also special because Bubbers rolled over for the first time ever! Did we actually see it? Well, no... But one minute he was on his stomach, reaching for the strap of my camera. And the next minute he was on his back!

Since we didn't see it, I'm willing to say it didn't happen (it doesn't count unless you see it, right?). But now we'll be more vigilant to catch the real first time, next time.

Oh, and here's some of Charming's humor...

"I'm Heidi watching General Conference."

"I'm the Little Man watching General Conference."

"I'm me watching General Conference."

--------
Breaking news on the snot front: Bubbers is oh so close to being over his first stuffy nose. Thank you to everyone for your kind well-wishing! Needless to say, none of us will miss "the boogerator".

My son's worst enemy

Sure, it looks innocent enough. But one suck from this baby turns my baby into a banshee.

Yes, Bubbers has his very first real stuffy nose. Up until yesterday, he's been the picture of manly health and vitality--just like his father.

Unfortunately, the cause of this stuffy nose is not so clear...

-----------------------
Scenario #1: Bob's Corn Maze

I thought it would be fun to go with Charming and the Boy Scouts to "Bob's Corn Maze".

This is us at the entrance to said maze:

Of course, this was before we got lost in the maze. And before the torrential rainfall.

-----------------------
Scenario #2: The Tooth

During the drive to aforementioned corn maze, I was giving Bubbers his daily soothing gum massage and lo and behold, what did I find? A tooth!

(Well, not a complete tooth, but the just-starting-to-poke-out protuberance of a tooth! My baby's growing up!)

-----------------------
Scenario #3: Allergies

The same day Bubbers got congested, so did Charming. This is interesting, because Charming never gets sick. In our house, if someone gets sick, it's me.

However, while Charming never gets sick, he does have allergies. Particularly when the seasons change, and fall has definitely hit the Northwest.

So, Charming thinks his allergies flared up, and since Bubbers exhibited the same symptoms as himself at the same exact time, Charming suspects allergies are the likely culprit.

(Can babies even have seasonal allergies??)

-----------------------

So, let's take a vote. What do you think?

What caused Bubbers' stuffy nose?
	Bob's Corn Maze
	The Tooth
	Allergies
pollcode.com free polls

-----------------------
p.s. Hey, experienced moms out there, I want to make sure I'm doing this right.

Is this how it goes?
Step 1: Squirt saline up each nostril
Step 2: Baby cries like crazed banshee under water
Step 3: Suck it all out
Step 4: Repeat every few hours

Proof of my stupidity

So, apparently, this is the wrong way to use a crock pot.

Now that I've had a day to think it over, I really think they should have made this thing with a non-meltable reinforced cord for crack pots like myself who try to kill themselves.

Hmm, since I'm an adult American citizen, I suppose the next logical step would be to sue someone...

I almost died today

Well, not "almost", but I could have. It was because of my own stupidity, too.

So, I was really excited to try a new crock pot recipe. Beef stew. Mmm.

I was so proud of myself. I remembered to thaw the meat last night. And this morning I remembered to actually make it.

I was cutting potatoes and singing "Old MacDonald" to Bubbers (boy, does he love that song), thinking to myself, This crock pot stuff is great. Now I can do whatever I want and dinner's all done!

Then during Bubbers' nap, I was relishing the latest installment of "Pioneer Woman's" romance story and I suddenly heard a loud "POP!" coming from somewhere in my house.

Confused, I walked down the hall toward the kitchen.

Was that the lid to the crock pot? I wondered. Sometimes the lid jiggles around when I have it on high, which was all I could figure for the source of that noise.

Then I rounded the corner and just stared.

What on earth??

The side of the crock pot was black, as well as the counter top next to it. Looking closer, I finally figured out what happened.

I am such an idiot. Whoever allowed me to run a kitchen of my own was beyond crazy.

---------------------

"Hello?" Charming answered.

"Hi," I muttered angrily.

He laughed, "What's wrong?"

"I'm stupid," I answered.

"What do you mean?"

"I ruined our crock pot and blew the fuse in our kitchen. How do I turn the power back on?"

(Laughing now) "What???"

"I turned on the crock pot with the cord caught in it. The cord melted and blew a fuse. All I heard was a loud "POP!" It's a good thing I'm lazy and stayed home all day, or else I would have burned down our house. And then we'd be on welfare. We couldn't even eat our food storage because it would have burned all up. So which breaker do I flip?"

(Actually, since the power turned off, it wouldn't have caught fire. But, as is evidenced by our broken crock pot, I wasn't doing my best thinking today...)

Charming talked me through the whole breaker thing, and just before he hung up, he said, "Check your email. I just sent you a link to a crock pot at Walmart. If you want, I can pick it up on my way home."

"Aw, you're great, thanks, Love!"

I checked it out-- a 6 quart crock pot! Sweet! That would be quite the upgrade from our tiny broken one...

Then I remembered how our camera broke (actually, I found out later it was just a bad battery), and then Charming bought me a new one.

Now our crock pot broke, and he wanted a new one.

Hmmm, I thought, looking around the house critically, What else should I break???

It's all relative

One thing I struggle with as a mom is that I can only see Bubbers as he is right now and I forget how he used to look. The only way I'm able to notice his gradual changes in appearance is by watching videos or looking at pictures. But even then, I can't really remember on my own. (It's actually hard for me to believe that that's my same son in the video as who's in my arms).

In fact, I often wish I could see him through other people's eyes. That I could say, "Wow, he's so much bigger than the last time I saw him!" or "He's sure looking more like his Dad!" I mean, I know he's changing and getting bigger, I just can't really see it or feel it. And that makes me sad.

Yesterday, Charming and I watched little Preston, so his parents (our good friends) could go to the temple. Preston is about three months younger than Bubbers, and it was so delightful having them together.

This is a picture from the first time we met Preston, when he was only 12 days old:

Here's a picture from yesterday:

It was so fun for me to have Preston there with us. Not only was he absolutely sweet, but in a way, he allowed me to "see" Bubbers through other people's eyes.

I was able to hold little Preston and feel how small he was compared to Bubbers. For once I could actually feel how heavy Bubbers was when I picked him up, you know what I mean? Usually it never registers--Bubbers is Bubbers. He doesn't feel heavy or light, he's just what he is.

But I loved being able to hold Preston and be like, "Wow, you really fit in one arm without hurting my back. That's right. Bubbers used to be like that." And then I could pick up Bubbers, "Uuff, man are you heavy!"

And little Preston was sooo cuddly. You could hold him on your shoulder and he'd just nestle in your neck. And his head smelled so good--exactly like a baby should.

I'd love to say that Bubbers used to do that, but he never did. He's never really been a cuddler. Sometimes he falls asleep with his head in the crook of my neck and I sigh happily and pretend he's cuddling me, but that's about it. (Oh, and sometimes he rubs his face back and forth against my shoulder like he's got an itchy face. I like that.)

I also wish he smelled good all the time, but that's not true either. He smells good right after he's taken a bath and I smother him in lotion. But then he slowly gets that milky smell again from all his spitting up.

That was another amazing thing about Preston--he never spit up! Not once the whole time we had him! You could hug him, and there weren't 45 layers of burp rags and soggy bibs between you and him. It was just: him!

Whenever I start to ache for a hug from Bubbers without all the layers, I take off his bib, put down the burp rag and then hold him tight and close my eyes. But I'm never really at ease. I'm always listening for that gurgling sound that usually precedes the spewing fountain.

Wow, I never realized how much the spitting up factor changes things... Bubbers has spit up from two weeks old on, so we've just gotten used to it--that's just how he is. (Well, as much as you can get used to it, since it's completely unpredictable). He goes through 30 bibs and 20 burp rags in about four days (in addition to all his clothes and all our clothes).

But I can't complain, because he got it from me. According to my Mom, I was the spit-up queen. So, I just have to smile and shrug my soggy shoulders.

It was also neat to see the developmental differences between Preston and Bubbers. What a difference three months makes at their age! A difference that will fade to nothing in just a few years.

A Cry for Help: Update

Wow, thank you everyone for your great advice and support! Just asking for help made me feel better about the whole thing. :)

I've deliberated long and hard about what to do... I bought rice cereal and little spoons with the "soft bite" ends. I even pumped one morning so I could put it in the rice cereal. But when it came down to giving my little baby solid food, I just couldn't do it.

Actually, just opening the new spoons and holding them in my hand made my eyes misty. One of my sisters-in-law emailed me some advice rather than posting a comment, and she said that above all, enjoy him being a baby. Her oldest "baby" is now 10, and she said it flies as fast as everyone says it does.

Holding those spoons in my hand suddenly made me see Bubbers walk into the kitchen as a young man, standing taller than me with a deep voice and his father's quick wit. (Oh boy, here come the tears again...). By the time Charming found me, I was a mess and he just opened his arms and I "soggified" his shoulder.

I even went so far as to convince myself Bubbers didn't actually need to start solid foods until at least 8 or 9 months old, if that. But then a good friend reminded me that he really does need to start at 6 months for the iron.

"Oh, yeah," I remembered, "I forgot about that..."

So, I froze the milk. I ran the spoons through the dishwasher and put them in the drawer. Then I put the rice cereal in the cupboard.

Two more weeks, I told myself.

Then last night, I rolled out of bed as soon as I heard him wake up. As I fed him, I looked down at his small pudgy fingers. I reached for them and he grasped my thumb. Pulling his fingers up to my lips, I kissed them.

They'll only be this small once, I thought.

Suddenly, I wasn't in such a rush to eliminate his middle-of-the-night feedings.

On a brighter note...

Here are a couple pictures Charming and I had fun using Fireworks on (I always call it Firefox and then Charming shakes his head sadly).

We tried out some tricks we learned from Pioneer Woman. Fortunately, Charming knows how to do the Photoshop stuff she talks about in Fireworks instead.

by Heidi (and Charming) 2007

That trickle of drool on his chin is my favorite part of this picture! (Well, and how he's sucking in his lower lip. And his crinkled up eyebrows. Okay, and everything!)

by Heidi (and Charming) 2007

A Cry for Help

So, Charming and I are trying to "eliminate" Bubbers' last remaining feeding at night. According to Dr. Ferber on page 141, he says:

...basically no normal, healthy full-term babies still require a nighttime feeding when they are five months old, and you can certainly insist on stopping them altogether if you want to.

Bubbers is 5 1/2 months old (and normal and healthy and all that), so we decided to "insist on stopping them altogether".

Now, I have loved Dr. Ferber's book through and through. He didn't make me want to bang my head against a wall or chuck him out the window to feed the squirrels in my backyard like another book which shall remain nameless. But the thing is, he didn't really explain how to "insist on stopping them altogether". Usually he's really good about that, but not so much for this issue.

So, I was visiting teaching last week and I asked my partner (a mother of three) and the woman we were visiting (a mother of one) how they stopped. They both said, "Cry it out."

We have tried, but we just don't get Bubbers. He's completely unpredictable. On Sunday morning, he slept 11 hours and had to be woken up for church. We patted ourselves on the back, thinking we had this thing down pat. Then he slept only 7 hours, but only cried for 20 minutes. Then last night he slept only 6 hours and then cried for 2 1/2 hours (on and off), before I decided, "That's enough." (Poor Charming couldn't sleep (I should have given him a pair of earplugs), so he got up and watched a Cosby episode on DVD and ate some cereal).

To help us, I've been diligently charting his sleep habits on Dr. Ferber's little chart, but can't see any pattern of why he's unpredictable (hence the use of the word: unpredictable). Then I get to wondering about possible teething or growth spurts or alien invasions. Should I just give up? No, I think we can do it...

So, now I'd like to ask more moms out there what did you do to get your babies to give up their last nighttime feeding??

I've heard many moms swear that rice cereal does the trick. Currently, Bubbers is breastfed full-time and we prefer to wait until 6 months to start solids, but I'm willing to try it, if that's what he needs (heck, it's only a couple weeks off anyways). I only ask that if that is your recommendation, please give me specifics, because I am clueless as to how to do that. (For example, How much do you give exactly? When do you give it--the absolute last thing before bed? Or do you do rice cereal and then nurse? Or nurse and then rice cereal?)

Poor little Bubbers has always been such a good sleeper for us, I feel badly that I'm messing him all up now. But hopefully I'll get an answer to my prayers soon... Thank you!!

A few pictures

What we've been up to lately...

Bubbers' latest trick: grabbing his feet (and then rolling to the side--oh so close to rolling over all the way. Dad is encouraging it, Mom is enjoying it--but definitely okay with him not moving, yet).

by Heidi 2007

Teething? He's chomping and drooling up a storm (and we think we feel something coming up).

by Heidi 2007

A little light reading: Showcasing an adorable outfit from Charming's Mom and a tender book from Charming's Dad. (I loved how these turned out!)

by Heidi 2007

by Heidi 2007

Mom's bright idea: Hmm, how to get Bubbers and the folded laundry moved across the house at the same time? Think, think, think...

What a smile! Wow--he really does smile for strangers! (At least friendly female ones).

Out to dinner: Hey, Love, is that our son's pacifier that just fell on the floor? And did you just pick it up, suck on it and then put it back in his mouth? Yummy.

Dad's sense of humor: Mmmm, dessert!

A real scout leader! Charming bought a frame backpack off Craigslist to use on scout camp outs. (I got to help him pack--then I hid a secret love letter in the bottom pocket). :) Sorry about the blinkage.

5 things Meme

For once, I'm actually all ready for the day and the Little Man is still napping (wow!), so I'm going to take a stab at Tearese's "5 things Meme". (Altered just a little).

-----
5 things I was doing 5 years ago:
(sorry, I couldn't remember enough from 10 years ago--that's why I keep journals--I can't remember what I did yesterday)

1. Starting my senior year at the UW
2. Learning to fall asleep while sitting up in a commuter bus
3. Waking up the strange guy snoring on my shoulder in a commuter bus
4. Applying to graduate school at the UW
5. Asking my husband to make dinner because I was too tired (I was anemic--who knew??)

-----
5 things on my to-do list today:

1. Go grocery shopping
2. Write some emails for my church calling as Enrichment Leader
3. Change my son's diaper (he's awake now and just let loose while sitting here in my lap--excuse me for a minute)
4. Scan 5 pages of pictures from my Mom's 6th family photo album
5. Make dinner for my husband

-----
5 snacks I enjoy:

1. Trail mix with M&M's
2. Costco peanut butter bars
3. Vanilla yogurt with grapes, topped with granola (mmm!)
4. Cold cereal
5. Cinnamon graham crackers dipped in milk

-----
5 things I would do if I were a millionaire:

1. Buy more clothes that fit me now
2. Buy photography lights
3. Buy Photoshop
4. Add a few more rooms to our house (and then hire a maid)
5. Save the rest and keep it a secret from our kids

-----
5 bad habits:

1. Wanting to stay up late and sleep in
2. Being indirect
3. Making piles around the house of things to do that rarely get done
4. Spending too much time online (so it's a really good thing I started a blog)
5. Being late (and taking too much time to do things)

-----
5 things people probably don't know about me:

1. I'm an introvert stuck in an extrovert's body
2. I write romance stories I never finish or let anyone read
3. I worry too much about what other people think
4. I'm afraid of water and can't swim (almost drowned as a kid and afraid ever since)
5. It's difficult for me to call people (especially to ask for help)

-----
Um, I don't think I'm going to tag anyone... As far as I know, Tearese and Charming are my only regular readers, and Tearese already did it and I don't think it's controversial enough for Charming's blog. So, I'll just say, "You're it!" and whatever random person stumbles across this gets tagged. :)

Oh so cute!!

I was reading some comments on one of Pioneer Woman's posts, and ran across a link to the cutest, most heart-warming baby video I have ever seen!

Check it out!

This is definitely going to be added to my "Other Favorites" sidebar so I can watch it anytime I feel down and need an instant lift.

Gem for the day

Tonight, Charming and I taught a short "Dinner Etiquette" class to the Deacons and Beehives at church (aka: 12 and 13-year-olds).

-------------------
Charming: "Who can tell me what the men are supposed to do when a lady gets up from your table?"

Young man: "Stand up."

Charming: "That's right! What do you do when she comes back?"

Young man: "Sit down."
-------------------

Happy Birthday to Me!

Charming instigated some quick Craigslist shopping and online research to get us a fantastic new camera! When I hold this baby, I just feel like a real photographer. It's black. It's heavy. It even makes a real "click" when you snap a picture!

With Charming's help, I took a second shot (ha, ha) at Bubbers' five-month pictures using the new beast.

What do you think?

by Heidi 2007

by Heidi 2007

by Heidi 2007

Goodbye, My Friend

I lost a dear friend today amidst tragic circumstances. But first, let me take you back to last night...

------------------------------------

"I'm sorry, Love, I just can't find a stud," Prince Charming explained apologetically.

He was standing on the bed, moving the stud-finder back and forth under our popcorn ceiling.

"What should we do?" I asked.

"Well, let's try it without one," he answered.

I handed him the ceiling hook and he screwed it into the ceiling (with his bare hands--I was impressed). Then I handed him the edge of my new purchase: 4 yards of black fabric.

Charming attached the fabric to the ceiling hook and ever so gently let it go. The weight of the fabric easily pulled the hook out of the ceiling and it all toppled down.

"Uh-oh," I said.

Charming and I decided to bag our efforts for the evening. My lofty plans to hold Bubbers' five-month photo shoot in my makeshift "studio" weren't working out as well as I'd hoped...

------------------------------------

This morning, I was huffing and puffing to my step-aerobics tape when Charming popped his head into the family room.

Bubbers was in his walker back in the corner (carefully positioned so he couldn't watch the TV).

"Hi, Bubbers!" Charming cooed over at him.

Bubbers didn't even blink. All he did was stare at my flailing with a blank, open-mouthed expression. The tray on his walker was overflowing with toys, but he ignored them and steadily fixed his eyes on me.

"Hey, Little Man!" Charming tried again, getting closer and louder.

Bubbers started from his trance, glanced at his Dad momentarily then slowly, as if drawn by a powerful force, returned his gaze to me.

I don't look that bizarre... do I?

Defeated, Charming turned to me, "It's done!"

"What's done?"

"Your hooks," he explained, "I found a ceiling stud and they're all done--drilled and everything!"

"Thanks, Love!!"

That's my Prince!

------------------------------------

Things were falling into place! During Bubbers' nap, I hung my new black fabric over our bed and assembled my cameras.

"Happy 5 months!" I cooed, scooping him out of his crib after he woke up all smiles.

I carried him into Heidi's Studio (in the flesh!) and the photo-shoot began!

It was going along just perfectly!

I couldn't have been happier!

And that's when it happened.

My camera died. Right then and there. Kapoot. Frozen. No hope of return.

My dear friend and companion of over two years. A sweet graduation gift from Prince Charming. My first digital camera ever. The producer of thousands and thousands of treasured pictures. Gone just like that.

------------------------------------
"Please leave me a message after the beep."

Beep!

"Hey, Love, it's Heidi," I said into the phone, "You know how you were asking me what I wanted for my birthday? Well, I know what I want now, so gimme a call when you get the chance. Love you, bye."

Farmer in Training

There are many people who adore Bubbers.

The free sample ladies at Costco. Our neighbors. Little children. The Relief Society ladies. The teachers and priests who play "peek-a-boo" and make him laugh in Priesthood opening exercises. Strangers on the street. Me. Prince Charming.

And, of course, his wonderful grandparents.

Bubbers has found an especially fond place in the hearts of Charming's parents. They love hearing about Bubbers and I love talking about Bubbers, so it's a perfect match! :)

The first time Charming's parents met Bubbers, they brought him a special gift. Or rather, Grandpa brought him a special gift. And it's been hanging in Bubbers' closet since then, awaiting the day that it fit.

Today was that day. After Bubbers' morning nap, I gave him an extra soapy bath so he'd be extra soft and extra good smelling. (Mmm, I love the smell of a freshly bathed baby).

Then I put it on and got the camera.

We love you, Grandpa!!

The Squealer

Here's a video of Bubbers in his jumper. He loves his jumper which means we love his jumper. Which also means we put hooks all over, so he can be in his jumper wherever we go. This is in our back garage.

My little cutesie wootsie pies!

I Don't Know

Prince Charming was very sweet and took Bubbers for a walk so I could have some alone time and write a post.

"What are you going to write about?" Charming asked, putting Bubbers in his umbrella stroller.

"I don't know."

I still don't know, so I just started typing. I haven't posted anything for a few days and just missed it. Is it weird that a blog can start to feel like a friend? And even weirder that it feels bad to neglect it?

Well, I feel better now that I've written something. I think I'll work on posting a video of Bubbers squealing in his jumper. You can't go wrong with a video of Bubbers.

I didn't hear him come home

One morning Charming was glad that I was videotaping...

Mystery Solved

My husband is an only child. I'm from a large family. Somehow, though, I'm the one who acts like an only child, while Charming acts like the one from a large family. I've always wondered why that was, until now.

In scanning my Mom's pictures for my current movie project, I came across this gem that sheds some light on the situation...

I have no memories of this, but it appears I'm being ceremoniously drawn in a cardboard carriage by a pajama-clad entourage while being served cool refreshment by my sister Nelly.

Mystery solved.

I Love Charming

Yet, again, Charming proves to be a wonderful husband.

Thanks, Love! :)

(Click here).

The Thumb War

Long before we had kids I decided they wouldn't suck their thumbs. I think I've always felt that way--at least as long as I can remember--but the decision became solidified during my former life as a speech-language pathologist.

"Bite down and show me your teeth," I said and turned my client's head with gloved hands to get a profile view of her pearly whites.

Mhm, that's what I thought, eyeing the large overbite that was causing her lisp, She was a thumb-sucker.

The poor girl didn't stand a chance without some serious orthodontia work. I informed her parents there wasn't much I could do to help her until her overbite was corrected.

When little Bubbers came along, I was ready.

"Uh-oh," my Mom said a few days after his birth, "I think he takes after you." (Referring to my infantile need to suck 24/7).

I watched him like a hawk and the minute he showed an ounce of blurry, cross-eyed interest in his hands I broke out the first line of artillery: no-scratch mittens in five different colors and two different sizes.

That kid didn't know he had hands 'til he was 3 months old. Sure, I took a lot of grief for it, but there was no way I was going to let him suck his thumb.

Did he actually ever try to suck his thumb? Well, no, but that was irrelevant (ah, the wonderful folly of being a first-time parent).

Then Bubbers started using his hands. My heart broke when he reached his little mittened hand up to bat at a dangling toy.

Okay, I relented, He can have his hands whenever I'm watching him.

The mittens were removed and only replaced when he wasn't within my line of sight (i.e., naps & bedtime).

He started grabbing things with his chubby little fingers. (Burping after a feeding suddenly became more complicated as he got his perpetually sweaty fingers tangled in my hair and pulled me this way and that like a puppet on strings).

Then the sucking began. It was small at first. A couple sucks of his index finger here. A slobbery fist there.

Well, I told myself, I suppose it's okay if he sucks, as long as he doesn't show a preference for a certain finger or something.

I never knew how cute he would be, aimlessly, yet ferociously, sucking one to four digits at any given time. Happily, he looked up at me and cooed with his mouth full.

Awwww, I smiled, blissfully snapping a hundred pictures.

But it couldn't last forever.

"Hey, Love," I said suddenly, "What's Bubbers doing?"

We both stopped and stared. He looked like he was sucking his right fist, but there was something about it that wasn't quite right...

"He's sucking his thumb!!" we answered simultaneously.

Albeit, it was only the itsy bitsy tip of his right thumb, but there was thumb suckage nonetheless.

That's when I pulled out my second line of defense: pacifiers.

A plethora of age-appropriate pacifiers were strategically placed throughout the house and one attached to his ever present bib.

Now I've got you, I thought confidently.

Whenever Bubbers sucked the tip of his thumb, I said, "No thumbs, please," and replaced it with his pacifier.

A few days ago, Bubbers upped the ante and found his entire right thumb in isolation of his fist!

"No thumbs, please," was uttered constantly, and I forgot what Bubbers looked like without a pacifier in his mouth.

One night during a diaper change, Bubbers threw down the ultimate gauntlet...

I looked up to find him sucking his thumb AND the pacifier at the same time!!

Holy smokes! I didn't even know that was possible!


I knew things were quickly getting out of hand (no pun intended), so I pulled out the big guns: extra long socks.

The mittens of his youth had become no match for Bubbers--they were easily removed and mysteriously thrown out of his crib. Searching for an alternative, I remembered my sister Nelly had mentioned that socks can work as mittens.

Bubbers' right arm became a soggy sock.

Heaven help us if he ever finds out he has a left thumb.