He liked the pumpkin...

...until he found out it had a face. It is his first Halloween, after all (at 364 days old!)

Four the love of Teagan.

We made it. She's 4! I was told the terrible twos paled in comparison to threes, and boy was that a little too accurate. Against the odds, we're here - both looking forward to a better year. She's a sweet, smart, beautiful little girl with a stubborn streak, which makes telling her she's wrong or that there's a better way to do something, nigh impossible. But isn't my job to teach her? Could someone tell her that, because she's convinced she knows more than me.

She woke up and the first thing she yelled was that she still fit in her pajamas, even though she was 4 now. They are size 6, for the record. She's still my Amazon Girl, and gets mistaken for school age all the time. We had birthday cake pancakes: a Pinterest special, and nearly put us all in diabetic shock between the cake batter, sprinkles and glaze. They were a little sweet, but a fun birthday tradition.

People were very kind and she was the grateful recipient of a new play kitchen (I sold the last one out from under her when we moved) some Lalaloopsy Tinies (Buddy is so adorable playing these with her), a fun Minnie outfit, Barbies, Play-Doh and more. She loves everything, so she loved everything.

She was very excited for her birthday and we tried to rise to the occasion with the least amount of effort and money possible. Easy, inexpensive treats and decorations were key - as was a cake courtesy of the amazing Grandma Richards. Like every other 4 year old in the world, Teagan still loves Frozen when you ask her. She doesn't watch it much, but if you ask her, it's her favourite. So we asked her close to her birthday and not again because the answer might have changed. Pinterest delivered in the low-key treat department and I was able to make some fun themed snacks with ease and without expense. Throw some balloons up (and leave them there for her brother in exactly a week) and we were golden. And by golden, I mean silver and blue. We had cousins over for cake and ice cream and that was plenty for her.

She has always had the most kissable cheeks (until her brother came along to tie her) and so we've enjoyed doing just that for four years now. And we aren't ones to resist of flashback photo op.

My Little T,

You and I both know that the mother/daughter relationship is a complicated one. It's so easy for me to see myself in you (because you ARE me!) and focus on all of my insecurities and try to steer you to avoid developing similar ones. As much as I try to resist the urge to nitpick and push you in certain directions, I know that I do. You are so good for me. I love that you stand up for what you want (thought sometimes I do know best) and I hope that that fire and courage stay with you throughout your life. If your father and I can manage to steer you in the right direction now, I know that you'll stay on the path and get exactly where you need to go because no amount of coaxing or trickery can get you to do what you know to be wrong. Even if you think wearing matching socks is wrong. You have a style all your own and while I wish I could still dress you in the seemingly hundreds of darling outfits bequeathed to you by a very kind and well dressed cousin, I can't wait to see you in the morning and find out what you're wearing. Eye patches, skirts hiked up to your bust, leggings and socks - you are so unique in your fashion that it melts my heart. I love you so much and am grateful for your forgiving nature when I'm not as nice as I could be and you are the best snuggler in the world. You made me a mum and are trying to make me a better mum every day and I need to rise to the occasion. I'm so glad you joined our family and I love you more than words can say, my darling girl. Work with me this year, huh?

Love,
Mummy

Teagan's Birthday Interview @ 4 Years Old

It's not often (read: never) that I actually follow through with any of the amazing ideas I pin on Pinterest, but this particular one is a tradition I am more than a little excited about. A birthday interview - sitting down each year on your child's birthday and asking them questions about themselves. Giving you a chance to compare their answers from year to year and for me, sitting down one on one with my daughter and getting to know her a little better. We've spent a lot of time together over the last four years, but this was a unique experience for us - sitting across from eachother asking her questions about herself and not about concepts or things she's learning. She loved it and I loved it - I kept adding questions because we were having so much fun! I tried to play it like the Newlywed Game, seeing if I could guess her answers before she could say them, but Teagan's a girl that will always keep me guessing. Who'd have known that Happy Birthday is her favourite TV show? I can't even imagine the fun we will have looking back at these over the years and giggling at some of the answers and marveling at how much she has grown. It's simultaneously thrilling and depressing. Here's a sneak peek of my darling little Teagan at 4. 

 Here she is on her birthday, in front of her new play kitchen. (Shhh! Don't tell!)

Swimmin' Cousins

Living in a small town has taken a bit of adjusting in some ways, and has been a welcome change in others.

For instance, when we signed up for swimming lessons with Parks & Rec in the next town over and Teagan and her cousin, Sam, were the only two children registered for the class. It was amazing. 

I had talked up swimming lessons for a while, trying to get her excited about them and she couldn't wait to go. Until the morning we started. Then it was like pulling teeth to get her out of bed to go. But after many tears (mine) and much begging and pleading (again, mine), we arrived and all was well.

Their teacher, Miss Nancy, was a kind, grandmotherly type - not the stereotypical college student we were expecting. She was perfect for these two. She spoke to them very softly and they didn't have to wait long when she was doing one on one things, which was great for their first experience.

Right off the bat they practiced putting their heads underwater - a struggle I've never won even after nearly 4 years of bathing her. But she did it for a perfect stranger and that was nice to see - especially if she has a prayer of attending school in the near future. Tara (my sister-in-law) and I sat at one end of the pool, far enough to observe and not be tempted to intervene at every possible juncture when she wasn't listening to her teacher. It was a good exercise all around.

They were so proud of themselves for doing well and wanted to go back the next time. What a relief it is.

These two get along swimmingly for 3 year olds. Pun intended. They play very well together and are just so darling to watch interact. Now that we are living so close, I'm excited to watch them grow up together and have a built in friend through their formative years.

What with it being flu season and all, there were occasions when Sam didn't come and she was a wee bit devastated, looking for him through the glass doors. I was both surprised and impressed when they continued on with the lessons, even with just Teagan. Private lessons for the price of public? I'll take it!

They graduated from the first stage and went right into the second, with Mr. Gordon. Teagan, who does well when she has a heads up about new things, was less than excited about their new teacher who looked a little different than Miss Nancy, but warmed up later. They had two other children in their class and got a little rowdy at times, but did well overall. She LOVES putting her face under the water - to the point of scaring me - and is working on the front crawl (scooping ice cream). She jumps in, paddles, kicks, blows bubbles and picks things up from the bottom of the pool. For two sessions of lessons, it's pretty impressive stuff.

Of Moths and Men

We don't have pets now. We won't have pets later. That was decided before Martha the Moth made the poor decision to fly into the house - Martha just sealed it.

One on hand, I'm proud of Teagan that she approached a moth without any fear or trepidation and on the other, I'm wondering what she won't touch considering how ugly this moth was. 

It was resting near the oven when Teagan audibly gasped and cried, "It's a butthly!" (Teagan for butterfly) and picked it up by a leg. Which tore off, so she picked it up by its wings. She wanted to return the butthly to its rightful home outside, so threw it in the air, only to have it fall very quickly back to earth. If moths had hindsight, this one would have put a little more effort into flying away. 

"She will be my pet!" Teagan exclaimed with glee, apparently interpreting the moth's injury as a plea to stay with her. So, I reluctantly pulled out a glass, poked some holes in some plastic wrap and allowed her to gently place her new pet in its enclosure. It seemed to be DOA, but I didn't have the heart to tell her. She confirmed with me several times that I had indeed provided a way for the butthly to breathe, but I think her concern would have been better placed with the poor thing's missing limbs. 

To distract her from the fact that her new pet wasn't moving, I asked Teagan what its name was. "Takawana," she replied, without missing a beat. This girl has the most creative names for dolls and pets - I'm nervous for her progeny. Unless she winds up in Utah, and names like Shoosh, Blones and Takawana are in the top 10. It took me a few times to get it right when I tried to repeat it back to her, so she decided that Martha was easier to say. So Martha it is. Was. 

I never quite know what she will remember (the scabby old dresses and T-shirts that I try to hide in hopes she'll wear something that <gasp> actually matches only to have her ask for the hidden items specifically, months after I've put them away) and what she will forget ("Please make sure you wash your hands after you use the toilet!") so when there is doubt, I try not to get rid of things. We returned from an hour of play in the backyard to find Grandma doing dishes, Martha's makeshift habitat now resting, overturned,  in the dishwasher. I tried to distract her with talk of colouring and all things shiny, praying she wouldn't ask about her pet. Mission accomplished - who doesn't love shiny things? 

We were talking about insects the next day and without thinking, mentioned that one looked like Martha. I held my breath and waited for the weeping and wailing upon discovering that dear Martha was no longer with us. Unnecessarily, as she simply asked, "Who?"

Martha, you made a lasting impression on me and the cats, dogs and small rodents everywhere who have you to thank that the Richards will be settling for digital pets for the foreseeable future. Rest in peace, my winged friend.

11 Months of Mason

• Since he's mastered crawling, he's decided to take the stairs whenever he can (ie. whenever I'm not looking). He's fallen once and remained flat on his back like a bug until I came to pick him up. That didn't faze him, as he was right back at it within minutes. 
• We lost him at family dinner on the 7th and he had climbed all the stairs by himself up to Teagan's room.
• He doesn't crawl. He cruns. That's crawling and running combined. He's found that he's fastest when he uses his feet instead of his knees, so hardly does the latter.
• He loves blowing raspberries on glass - mirrors, windows...it's hilarious.
• He sprouted a tooth near the beginning of the month and is just working on his second. Babies younger than him look older than him. And a lot like a scene from Jaws.
• He can bonk heads, high five and give kisses on command. And by "kisses" I mean he will lean into your lips with his mouth wide open. It's an experience.
• He gets so goofy at bedtime. An 8 oz. bottle takes entirely too long to feed him because he's so busy giggling, sticking his fingers up your nose and grabbing your lips.
• He loves music - he calms right down when I sing to him.
• He always LOVES being outside. If he's crying, 10 times out of 10 you can take a step outside and he stop and be perfectly fine. Until you try to take him back inside.
• His passion for music and the outdoors leads me to believe he'll be a wandering minstrel when he grow up. 
• In addition to being outside, he loves to be anywhere he isn't supposed to be - the toilet, the shower, the garbage. It's unreal.
• One of his favourite indoor haunts is the treadmill upstairs. If all the bathroom doors are closed, he's usually sitting serenely on the stationary treadmill, or squealing because he's stuck and can't get off.
• He babbles, running his fingers across his lips, a la Hook (a movie from the 90s.) Brandon calls him Bangarang from time to time.
• He's VERY communicative. He knows exactly what he wants and grunts at it, flails and growls at you until you get it right. I can't wait for him to speak.
• Speaking of speaking, his first word was BABY on September 28th, just shy of 11 months. He caught me completely off guard and repeated "baby" numerous times, completely melting my heart.

Mason Moment:

I'm always torn when my kids go off on their own - which, for the record, has only happened a handful of times. I want to enjoy my incredibly rare time alone, but at the same time wonder what they are doing. I went downstairs to switch some laundry the other day and snuck back up the stairs quietly to see if I could catch a glimpse of what they get up to when I'm not around. It was darling. Teagan was talking to Mason softly and sweetly and he was just exploring. After a minute or two, he caught me and our eyes connected across the room. His face lit up like a Christmas tree and he immediately began to crun towards me as fast as his tiny body could. I scaled the makeshift baby gate and squeezed that little nugget as hard as I could. It was so precious. My love for this little man grows almost as fast as he does. Which is fast.

Formula for a Happy Mason

Helloooooo nursing! If you can do it, nursing's great. I've been fortunate enough to be able to nurse both my babies for the better part of their first year - Teagan until a few weeks past one and then Mason. Mason, Mason, Mason. In the beginning it came really easily to both of us. He latched immediately on one side and continue to favour that side for as long as I nursed him and was really good at it for a while. 

There was the little issue of spitting up. Okay, "spitting up" is a polite way of describing when babies dribble a little and you wipe their mouths with a small cloth. Mason didn't spit up. Mason EXPLODED. Daily. Several times daily. It was maddening. I can still remember the feeling of hot liquid careening down my shirt and soaking through the layers I was wearing. Trying to navigate the stairs without dripping, because it had made it onto my pants as well. Showering numerous times a day and still smelling like baby vomit. The endless dance of rinsing and washing and drying, both of us getting down to the last thing in our wardrobes that fit us. Looking for some sort of a sign that it was about to happen and we came up with the FIRESWAMP Theory covered HERE involving a few clicks and gags, giving you a millisecond's warning he was about to erupt. 

 

Beyond the mess, I was concerned that he wasn't getting enough nutrition, since everything in his wee body seemed to come up. Several friends suggested I give up milk, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions, especially since I enjoy dairy so much and wasn't convinced that was the problem. His pediatrician assured me he was growing and it wasn't affecting his development, he was merely overeating and needed to be regulated a little. He's ours, after all. So we pressed on and celebrated the small victories.

As he got older, the "spit up" slowed, but he would nurse for a few minutes and get distracted and do anything besides eat. With an active toddler, I couldn't spend an hour trying to convince him he needed to eat and only actually nursing for a few minutes. My supply seemed to dwindle a bit as well, because the demand wasn't there. I hadn't intended to wean him completely when Brandon and I spent a weekend without the kids, but circumstances (ahem, me forgetting a power source for my pump and not having the time to collect enough breastmilk in advance) sped things along and forced Brenda to mostly feed him with formula over that weekend at the end of August. He slept through the night for the first time in my memory and from then on, it seemed like a steady diet of formula and meat was the formula for a happy Mason. We'd had a good run, and this just seemed to work better for all of us and I'm grateful to my in-laws for helping us provide him with all the formula he needs - speaking of, it was nice to have a specific recommendation of ounces from the doctor, rather than an amount of time spent at the breast, which never seemed to amount to much for us.
As he approaches a year, I feel like this was the best solution for us and the little man has thrived. He got the best of both and we are now enjoying the freedom that comes from formula. Especially now that he his holding his own bottle. Putting him down for a nap with a bottle at 10 months was so liberating! He was eating more because I wasn't watching and waiting and growing impatient. He was finishing bottles and getting more than the recommended amount and - get this - keeping it down!

Gestures of love change over time, and more than flowers (which I don't especially love) or even chocolate at this point (I know!) I love that Brandon sets a fresh bottle outside Mason's door before he leaves for his 12 hour work day. This means that I don't have to get dressed to go downstairs and squint through sleepy eyes to get the proportions correct and it buys me at least 15 minutes of extra rest each morning. He will yell at me when he wakes up, I open the door just enough to extend my arm to the crib (I don't even let him see me) and he reaches out to take the bottle and we are good until it's finished. It's a beautiful way to ease me into the day - not a morning person - especially when neither of us smells like old milk.