You are now looking at two reasons why haven't been blogging... The Baby has had many firsts this week. Among them: his first swing in the park, which made him cackle with laughter; his first successful effort to sit up by himself, which he has since mastered; his first time pulling up to standing completely alone, which came at the lake today, pulling himself up onto the soft top cooler, and then proceeding to open the top of the cooler to serve himself; his first bottle feeding with Mommy at the helm; and last but certainly not least- two new teeth! The teeth have caused many a sleepless night which in turn has caused "Mommy stupidity". "Mommy stupidity can be characterized by putting 2 1/2 year old little boys to bed without a diaper, taking children to the lake without a single towel, and completely forgetting an hourly care appointment made a week ago for this afternoon so Mommy could go swim laps. To The Boy's credit, he stayed dry the entire night without the diaper! To my credit, I did pack extra clothes for the lake and improvised the drying and cleaning of little ones with a burp cloth. But I cannot believe that I missed that appointment, a weekly appointment that I typically LIVE for- 2 whole hours child free for exercise and sanity. A blessing in disguise I guess as the lake was breezy, no more than 82 degrees, and my boys were on their best behavior. The Baby even napped for 40 minutes in the stroller by the beach allowing me to build an impressive sand castle with The Boy. Funny thing I can't seem to get over: even in the southern states, where the temperatures soar well into October and November, the beaches and outdoor pools still close on Labor Day!

There are some days where I feel a little bit older than usual. For example, when I hear from my Mother that someone has graduated from college and I know full well that I used to change their diapers. Today was one of those days.
Today was The Boy's first day of "preschool". I suppose we used to call it "the first day of school" when one started Kindergarten. In Germany you only celebrate the first day of "school" once, but in a high style that rivals Christmas. But as I have learned through casual observation, "school" is now a term used loosely to define any sort of regular daycare that one attends. I have a friend whose son has attended "school" since he was an infant. So by now he must be enrolling in AP classes... The Boy has started a two day program, but it's the same two days every week with the same schedule and it follows a "wee-learn" curriculum (no, they don't teach potty training), so by golly, we're calling it "school"!
I've dropped off and collected plenty of other people's children in my nanny days, but this is the first day that I dropped off my own son. To my surprise, there were no tears welling up in my eyes; ah shucks, I had to stifle the urge to sailor skip and click my heels as I departed down the corridor from the classroom- and boy would I have gotten some air if I had as I was pushing The Baby in the stroller! It's not that I don't love The Boy with all my heart and soul. It's not that we didn't have a fantastic summer filled with exciting outtings, picnics, and adventures. It's not that I don't still believe in the importance of my role as "stay at home mother". The little man has grown exponentially in his abilities to actually be helpful from time to time. But over the summer, as his daring/reckless/curious nature began to show itself, climbing to the top of the sofa for a better bounce, playing derby cars with the laundry basket and baby brother as the "driver", it became more and more clear that maybe it was time for The Boy to learn how to hold hands, how to walk in a line, how to eat lunch with his peers, and most importantly: how to appreciate his Mommy. Being ever so sensitive to the "big day" I spent the whole evening prior cutting his most favorite fruits into bite sized pieces, locking the cheese and turkey bites into little reusable, eco friendly, snap-and-go containers that he loves so much (the opening and closing of them more than what is inside). I packed two extra sets of undies and shorts, just in case. I stuffed it all, security blanket included, into his new construction truck backpack, and set it by the door. To my delight he emerged from the kitchen this morning announcing "The Boy's going hiking! Yeah!"
The Baby didn't follow the plan so well however (he was supposed to go to daycare too, giving me an entire morning alone), waking in the night with a green snotty nose, evident in his portrait, and a cough that would have made me look like a total jerk for leaving him in daycare. So The Baby tagged along for the adventure and thankfully, was a doll.
At first we were all systems go, arriving just a moment early to oggle at the playground and talk about our cool backpack. When someone else's child began crying we did waiver for a moment, The Boy's eyes brimmed with tears as I gave him a quick smooch and excused myself from the classroom. A good friend, also dropping her daughter for the first time, confirmed that those tears were just for show as two minutes later, when executing her own drop off, The Boy was happily playing and tearless!
When all was said and done, I got my wish; a quick and painless goodbye, an hour of girl talk and breakfast out. I lingered for an hour of peace and quiet in the city's new Barnes & Noble with The Baby slumbering in the stroller. I ate lunch in total silence at my kitchen table, I chewed and TASTED every bite. I posted this blog well before midnight. Perfection!

We all know the saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." My first born, The Boy, is a carbon copy of his handsome father. He has sandy brown hair and big brown eyes, the exact same head shape and he tans before summer has even begun. So when I found out I was pregnant with another little boy I admit to a brief moment of disappointment that there would be no "mini me". However, genetics are such a funny thing! From the moment The Baby was born he has lived up to his "Burton" characteristics (Burton is a family name on my side); with every passing day I smile a little wider as his hair becomes blonder, his eyes become greener, and his height continues to exceed the length of his pants. It's not just his looks either, the similarities are everywhere and especially pronounced in his love for "lovey" and left thumb sucking. I had "sunshine", a baby blanket quilted by my mother, that I took everywhere and fingered unconsciously until I drifted off to sleep. Hand The Baby "lovey", a small fleece square with a giraffe head, and he quickly finds the petal soft ears, plunks the thumb happily into his tender gums and away he goes to la la land. I've made the comment to enough people to feel obligated to share photos of each of us at approximately the same age. If you don't see a resemblance, please don't burst my bubble...

"It's date night tonight and you're taking Mommy to a show!" I told my 2 1/2 year old son. He had no idea what any of that meant but he was more than obliging to follow Mommy out of the house, quickly realizing that the baby was staying with Grand Bob and he would now have my undivided attention for the next two hours or more. Sesame Street recently visited Ft Hood with a song and dance performance that I am happy to report had an outstanding turnout. So often our family has ventured out to USO shows and free events for military families to find the attendance almost embarrassing to the performers. The number of toddlers and babies in attendance was staggering but we were able to meet up with bosom buddy Sydney for what would be the twosome's first auditorium style, lights out, live performance. We arrived slightly early, 5:30 for a 6pm show, to ensure good seating. The staff from the USO was delighted to present us with spinning Elmo toys, or as Julie and I quickly dubbed them "spinning nipple whippers!" The next 25 minutes were spent battling the battery operated weapons of the evening, trading children who wanted to be held by the mother that was NOT theirs, and bribing good behavior with M&M's and the world's longest game of Simon Says. FINALLY Elmo appeared! Natural light photography, in the dark, with a toddler on your lap, and a "spinning nipple whipper" doing what "spinning nipple whippers" do best, is not conducive to good photography. However, I did manage to catch a little twinkle in the eyes of our little ones as they gazed out across the stage and got their first glimpse of a seven foot tall puppet. I can't say that it was glee, but it WAS special. Elmo has tighter security than visiting diplomats; sadly, there was no meet and greet or photo op with any of the characters...

We've recently returned from a much needed and very restful vacation to New York and I find our family is overwhelmed with the task of unpacking and settling back into a routine here at home. After nearly two months of having loving Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, and close friends graciously assist in the waking, feeding, changing, wiping, bathing, entertaining, kissing, hugging, ins and outs of life with my boys, reality has settled in. We are once again on our own, the house is oddly calm and relatively quiet, but only because those cute little bums are tucked soundly into bed. Tomorrow will certainly begin early, demand much more of me than I have stored, and I may just have to take The Girl's advice: good eye protection and a confident gaze can prepare you for any obstacle!

I love my parents. I love to visit the home where I grew up. I love being a mother. I love combining all of these marvelous gifts from God into one afternoon! Saturday afternoon we celebrated my father's much anticipated retirement. More anticipated by whom, my Dad, my Mom, my brother and I, or his Grandsons, is yet to be seen... On Sunday, we wasted no time in getting Dad up to the camp for a huge, juicy, grilled steak, fresh sweetcorn, and The Boy's first fishing lesson. The shocking truth: we filled the entire van with gear, clothes, pack-and-plays, bed-rails, toys, food, lovies, binkies, fishing poles, and an excersaucer for good measure, to travel 30 minutes for one afternoon of fun. Had it not started to downpour the moment the steak hit the grill we would still be at the camp for a slumber party...

Perhaps the most special part of the day for me was to watch my Dad teach my son how to fish. Now, I'm no sissy, I can hook a worm with the best of them. And as the fish continued to evade capture and steal worms from my Dad's eager line I surprised even myself and fought back the urge to show the boys how a fish is really caught. Instead, I hid behind my camera and let my son have his "dude time" with his GrandBob. I grew up in a very outdoorsman kind of family and to see our family traditions of fishing, hiking, cookouts, campfires, camping, all being passed onto my children with the loving and attentive help of my parents is truly a gift to my heart.

The Boy will no doubt be wanting to adorn every dish at every meal from now on with candles, since tonight we celebrated my Dad's birthday as well, and he will probably be asking if Santa uses a GPS system too since we hid Dad's birthday presents out in the woods and made him use his retirement gift, a GPS system, to go find them... I definitely see "geo-cache'ing" in the future with the boys. This is just a glimpse of the very special memories made this weekend as our family embarks on another chapter of our lives - "Dad's retired... Now we can go tent camping in the rain ANY day of the week!"