20071031_1239, originally uploaded by sam&bex.

Happy Halloween, y'all!

As moms, we get used to the fact that 90% of what we say is deflected by our childrens' selective hearing (that they undoubtedly inherited from their fathers). And like every other mom, I can often be heard reiterating some version of, "What did I tell you/Do you remember what I told you/Why did I tell you that?" Knowing full well that I won't get an answer.

But! Sometimes kids surprise us. Today I was attempting to trim Sawyer's hair over his ears and at the nape of his neck. As cute as the rattail was, it needs to stay in 1994. Now, Sawyer doesn't like any part of being held down, or having various objects near his face. His first and only professional haircut at 21 months old involved many tears.

So, in an attempt to make it quick and painless (on his part anyway, as I was taking a few wild kicks and headbutts to the chin) I had him in my lap with my legs wrapped around his waist, left arm pulling his arms snug to his sides, and right hand wielding the scissors. (Yeah, sounds like a great way to get a straight haircut, right?) I began snip-snip-snipping at the hair over his ears and he kept ducking his head away and trying to shield with his hands.

"Sawyer, just hold still, it doesn't hurt when you cut hair. What hurts is when you wiggle and thrust yourself at the scissors."

More head-bobbing and swatting. And then he said, "MOMMY. This is scissors. This is very dangerous."

Now, how can you even begin to argue with that? I had no choice but to leave his hair lopsided, because I have no clue how to explain to a 2-year-old that he shouldn't play with scissors but Mommy can cut pieces of his body off with them. A battle for another day, I guess.

Later, we picked my little sister up from school. She wasn't even halfway into the car before Sawyer was chattering away. "ANNA! Hey Anna! You go to school? What you doing? You sit on your seat? I sittin' in my seat. Beckett's in him seat. We go to Grandma's house? Where's Grandma? Hi Anna!" And then, not even a block away from the school and he stops short in his chatter and I can see his eyebrows arch into a concerned look in the rearview mirror.

"ANNA. You wear your seat belt. To be SAFE. Put it on."

He watched closely as she buckled it, then was rattling off questions again.

Once in awhile, he does listen.

We took the boys to a pumpkin patch today, a first for both of them as well as us. It was a nice little farm, and pretty good sized for actually being inside the city limits of Indianapolis. They had a market, corn mazes, a hay mountain for climbing, pony rides, lots of concession type stuff, some games and a hay ride out to the actual pumpkin patch. Oh, and a giant robotic dinosaur that munched pumpkins!

Out of all those things, which seems most likely to frighten a two-year-old? The dinosaur, right? Or maybe the ponies if he's extra skittish? Wrong and wrong again. No, Sawyer was afraid of the hay ride. The tractor pulling a trailor filled with hay that tugged along at a whole five miles per hour. He cried the entire way to and from the pumpkin patch, complete with a dramatic flop of his body among the hay. He even refused a Snickers bar from a nice lady sitting across from us, and you know it's serious when my child turns down candy.

As soon as we were off the trailor, he switched gears and skipped all over the pumpkin field, sitting down at every pumpkin in his path and hugging it. His eyes were bigger than his body because he kept trying to pick up pumpkins that weighed more than he does. Then he wanted a green pumpkin, and then a pumpkin that was split open with flies grazing on the fruit. We finally convinced him to pick up one small enough that he could carry it himself, and he did lug it all the way back to the trailor on his own.

We explored a corn maze, which Sawyer deemed as "too cool!" and then hit the market where he chose a green apple to munch on the way home. We hit concessions on the way to the car and picked up a giant bag of kettle corn which DH and I have already almost polished off. If you've never had fresh kettle corn, you're missing out. It is nothing like the microwave kettle corn. At all. Our ability to eat a whole 4-foot-tall bag in one day is proof of that.

Tomorrow we'll paint the pumpkins to adorn our front porch, because Wednesday is Halloween. And then it's November. And OHMYGOD how is 2007 almost over already??

I've gotten several hits from searches about tattoos while nursing, and I've also had many people ask me personally if it is safe to be inked while breastfeeding, so I thought I would post some helpful links. I researched thoroughly before I decided to go ahead with it, just in case anyone reading was wondering about that. And yes, my artist knows I am breastfeeding. ;)

Ultimately it is a personal decision and I know both moms who waited until they were done nursing and also those, like me, who felt safe having it done with a nursling still at home. Hopefully this info will help anyone who still may be on the fence about it.

KellyMom: Tattoos

"There is no evidence that getting a tattoo will affect breastfeeding. There should be no harm to mom or baby from the dyes injected. If you get a tattoo, the biggest concern for anyone (not just nursing moms) is infection (hepatitis or HIV)-- so make sure the place you go has good references and is clean."

La Leche League FAQ on Tattoos and Breastfeeding

"Tattoos are created by injecting ink into the dermal (second and third) layer of the skin. Tattooists use a hand-held electric machine that is fitted with solid needles coated in the ink. The needles enter the skin hundreds of times a minute to a depth of up to a few millimeters. The ink that is used in tattoos in the United States is subject to FDA regulation as cosmetics, but none are approved for injection under the skin. However, the ink molecules are too large to pass into breastmilk.

General information about tattooing also applies to breastfeeding women. Local and systemic infections are the most prevalent risks of tattooing. Local infections can occur when the recommended aftercare regimen is not followed. Aftercare includes keeping the tattoo clean with mild soap and water, not picking at the scabs and keeping the tattoo out of the sun. Tylenol is often prescribed for the pain, if needed. Systemic infections occur when universal precautions are not followed by the tattoo artist and can include such diseases as hepatitis, tetanus and HIV.

It is very important to screen the tattooist and the shop carefully, checking with the local health department for local laws and regulations. Professional tattooists will follow universal precautions such as sterilization of the tattoo machine using an autoclave, single-use inks, ink cups, gloves and needles, bagging of equipment to avoid cross contamination, and thorough hand washing with disinfectant soap. Most tattooists will not knowingly tattoo a pregnant or breastfeeding mother. It is suggested that mothers wait at least until the child's first birthday to give their bodies a chance to recover completely from childbirth before getting a tattoo."

What do we think? I was a little disappointed to see that she hadn't drawn anything new, but now it's much more special that it's the actual original drawing I did myself and I adore the end result. I love the shading and leaves she added (I decided I didn't want the tree to be dead, LOL). Click here to see it larger. It took about an hour and a half, not too bad. I already made an appointment November 30th to do Beckett's. I was planning to put his on my chest but now I'm leaning towards putting it under the tree and starting a sleeve.

SILENCE. Finally. Both boys are asleep and I'm sitting on my duff doing absolutely nothing because I'm too scared I'll make noise and wake them up. Today must be Crab Day because both boys are whinier than a grown man with a hangnail. They're still fighting their colds and I got a peek into Beckett's mouth earlier and it looks like tooth #7 has made its debut. I'm hoping #8 follows quickly behind so we can be done with this teething business for awhile.

As for Sawyer, who knew starting the wrong Dora episode was grounds for a toddler-induced F5 tornado. 'Nuff said.

So instead of cleaning the house like I should be, I'm putzing around on Flickr looking at tattoos. Because does anyone remember what tonight is? Sawyer's Tree! I'm getting pumped. And after the day I've had, it will definitely be a good hurt under the needle and AWAY from the house for a few hours.

Umm, yeah, Beckett just woke up. Already. So I'm cutting this short, but I have to share these:

Food tattoos. They intrique me. Especially the cupcakes. Seriously, how cute are those?!


1. Yummy, 2. fruit, 3. keep sweet, 4. lucky cat w/ sushi, 5. corn, 6. P1010022, 7. Cherry Tattoo, 8. cupcake, 9. Candy Apple
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

And my new obsession: sewing tattoos! I've been trying to get ideas for my quilt tattoo and I found these.


1. sewing machine tattoo, 2. pincushion tattoo, 3. my sewing machine tattoo, 4. my new tattoo, done by Julian at Rising Sun, 5. sewing machine, 6. Picture 267, 7. blue sewing machine?!, 8. stork scissors!, 9. thread and needle
Created with fd's Flickr Toys.

I swear, there isn't anything this kid does any more that doesn't make me laugh. (Okay, I don't laugh when he's giving the dials on my serger a spin, especially when I can't remember what they were set on, but most of the time, I'm laughing.)

Sawyer has this Diego field journal thingy that's like a Magnadoodle on the inside. He's always asking me to draw stuff. It used to be just squares and circles or the alphabet but lately he has gone to more complicated things. Our conversation just now went like this:

"Mommy! Draw balloons."

I quickly scrawled out three balloons.

"Thanks, Mommy! Now draw a tapir."

Um, WHAT? Okay.. I drew a blobby thing with a long snout and hoped he'd accept it as a tapir.

"OOOOHHH, it is a tapir! Thanks! Now draw a jaguar."

I drew a pretty kickass jaguar, if I do say so myself. Spots, whiskers, triangular nose and all. Maybe slightly domestic looking, but I didn't figure he would notice. And what does he say?

"Umm.. it's a cat, Mommy."

I am so in for it when he's a teenager. The kid will be smarter than me, I know it.

The other thing that makes me laugh is how kids are so honest. They aren't afraid to tell you that you're fat or look weird or shouldn't eat that third donut. Sawyer particularly loves to squish my saggy belly pouch in the shower and laugh, saying, "Ewww, gross, Mommy!" And the other day, he informed me that my morning bed head hair was "like a big bird." At least I know whose opinion to trust when I get a new outfit, right?

We just got over a nasty cold a few weeks ago and already, we're getting hit again. A product of the moms group Halloween party we attended last week, I'm sure. The baby hasn't been sleeping more than two hours at a time for the past four nights and it's just a fabulously good time, let me tell you. Sawyer wore a permanent scowl today as he walked around and randomly wiped his nose on the furniture if I didn't catch him with a tissue soon enough.

Speaking of snotty noses, back when I was childless, yet apparently knew everything there was to know about child rearing (like we all did when we were still blissfully unaware, you know), I always scoffed at the children I'd see at the grocery store with crusty green mustaches. My child will never be dirty in public! *snort*

Then I had a Sawyer. And I realized that while nauseating and embarrassing enough to wear a disguise so as not to be recognized, quiet and crusty-faced is still better than a clean screamer. Because toddlers? They do not like it when you try to wipe their nose. In fact, mine dislikes it so much that he perfected the art of making it seem like I'm brutally beating him. Which, as you can imagine, doesn't go over well in public. I'll take a little bit of snot over the "pulling out my cell phone to call CPS" glares, thanks.

I'm just hoping this passes quickly, because it'll be a little hard for me to sit still for my tattoo on Friday if I'm sneezing and hacking up a lung all over the artist. Plus we were planning to hit up the pumpkin patch on Saturday and tackling that with an entire sick family is not on my list of fun things to do.

Luckily, both boys went to bed without incident for my mom last night while DH and I were out having a quiet dinner at The Melting Pot. Alone. No children. Yes, it was wonderful. There were roses and a card waiting for me on the table and we had a private corner booth that made it seem like we were the only patrons in the whole restaurant. And we left weighing about five pounds more than when we went in.

Tomorrow's installment: the husband's first tattoo (yes, I'm dragging him over to the dark side) and how I tried to defend myself from burglars with a broom stick. Mensa candidate right here, y'all.

Oh, and if you could, please clicky that Top Momma button at the top of the page! Or, if you're using a reader, you can just click here. Lets see how long I last!

Has it only been two years? The husband and I were married two years ago today but it seems like a lifetime ago. I don't remember life without him and I don't care to. We've known each other much longer than that, so maybe that's why.

We practically grew up together, playing on the same high school tennis team in a tiny Texas town. I first met him when I was 12, and secretly had a crush on him all through middle school. Once I got to high school, he was the guy all the girls were after; a senior and a quiet guy with a cute smile and a curl in his hair. And I was the timid freshman, sure that I didn't stand a chance at getting him to notice me but still determined to try.

I can still remember the team trip to Corpus Christie the summer before my freshman year. My friend Katie and I teased the crap out of him, stealing his hat and giggling as he chased us for it. I remember spending hours picking out my outfit to wear to the steakhouse that night, curling my hair just so and trying to suck my stomach in and stick my chest out as best I could. I remember watching him play a match from up in the stands with the senior girls, and them commenting on his cute butt. One of those girls would later date him, and many years after that, we'd visit her and her new husband on a trip back to Texas. It's so funny how things work out.

We did end up dating for a short time in high school, but not long enough to really even count as a relationship. My dad caught us kissing in the driveway once after practice, and I remember trying to pass it off as a dare from the other girls. But believe me, no one had to dare me to kiss him. I was plenty willing!

After he graduated, he moved to Arizona to go to a local college in Phoenix, and shortly after that, my dad's job relocated him and we moved to Indiana. I didn't talk to him for nearly two years. One day, I decided to send a note to his old email address and see if he still checked it. Much to my surprise, I received a response, and we began talking again. We'd talk on the phone a lot, just a platonic relationship. For me it was a way to hang on to the life I once knew.

A few months after we reconnected, he told me he was being sent to Indiana on a business trip. I was so incredibly excited and begged my mom to take me to see him. We hadn't lived here long and didn't know that Ft. Wayne was a two-hour drive north. But we made the trip, and had an amazing time. He kissed me in his hotel room that night and rekindled something I never thought would ever be again. My mom still to this day says that if she had known how far we would have to drive, we never would have gone. Thank goodness for small miracles, right?

After that, we talked non-stop. I entered my senior year of high school and had my fair share of boyfriends, but he was always in the back of my mind. For Spring Break that year, he invited me to come to Phoenix for a week, and I was ecstatic. I did go, and to describe it in one word: life-changing. I still can't believe my parents let me go, but I thank my lucky stars that they did. After returning home, I sent him an email and mustered up the guts to tell him in that email that I loved him. His response was less than stellar, because he didn't say it back. But I assured him my feelings would be the same if he ever changed his mind.

October of that same year, he came to Indiana again to visit me at college. Our time together then was very confusing, and I wasn't sure how I felt any more. But when I took him to the airport, I cried as he walked away from me and it was then that I knew I still loved him. When he returned home and called me that night, he finally said it back. We became an exclusive couple that night. The funniest part of this is that when we decided it, it was past midnight in Indiana but three hours behind in Arizona. So to determine what day would be the "official" day, we decided to use the time it was in our Texas hometown. It was just after 11pm on October 22, 2003.

Despite the distance, our relationship flourished, and five months later in March of 2004, he made the leap of faith to quit his job in Arizona, pack his things, and move to Indiana. It was an incredible decision to make in that he had no job lined up here and was just trusting that he would be able to find one. He lived with my parents (for much longer than expected, actually) and I am thankful every day that they took him in and allowed us to make things work. I was still at college at that time and would drive home every weekend to see him.

Sawyer was conceived three days before our one year dating anniversary, and I found out I was pregnant on Halloween. That event started a snowball of activity and when I was 14 weeks pregnant, January 5th, 2005, he proposed to me. Two months later, in March, we bought our first home and in May after I finished my sophomore year of college, I was able to finally come home and live in our house. Sawyer was born that July, and we were finally married three months later on October 22nd, 2005. Exactly two years after we started dating.

I always love telling our story because I think it's such an amazing example of fate and how everything happens for a reason. What if we hadn't moved to Indiana, or I hadn't ever emailed him, or he hadn't chosen to work for that particular company that sent him to Indiana? It's such a crazy chain reaction.

It sounds like such a short time, but like I said, it seems so, so much longer. We've been through so much and in that short time, we've had two children, one wedding, bought two houses and changed jobs twice. We've seen life, death, hardship, rejoicing and everything in between. And I wouldn't change a thing.

Happy two years of complete bliss to my amazing husband. You are my happy ending.

Corn syrup.

And I'm not talking about in your child's food. I'm talking about in your carpet.

Do you ever compose blog posts in your head before you actually type them? That's what I was doing while mopping a foot-wide puddle of Karo from my linoleum and contemplating how in the world to get the circular swirls of it out of my carpet.

My first instinct was vinegar, which I soaked on it and then wiped up and it's not near as sticky now. My whole house is going to smell like a pickle. I already had the vinegar out yesterday when Sawyer thought it would be fun to take off his turd-filled diaper and then sit bare-butt on the carpet. Yes, we're working on the potty.

I swear, this child could start World War III in five minutes with the way he's able to destroy my house in the times it takes me to pee or get Beckett from his room. I know how my night will be spent: borrowing my parents' steam cleaner and installing a lock on the pantry, which I thought about months ago and should have already done.

And in typical Sawyer fashion, there always has to be a finale: today it was peeing on the floor after I got him out of the bath tub in the 2.5 seconds it took me to find a diaper.

Cages. A good thing sometimes. (Kidding, of course, which I have to say or I'll worry that someone will read my blog and think I'm inhumane and crate my kids like puppies.)

In all seriousness, the kid is not neglected. He's just really good at causing chaos in no time flat. Ask my DH about the time he emptied a whole bottle of Windex onto the couch when they were in the SAME room together. I kid you not. This child is a master at watching for a turned back. And I think it makes us look like inattentive parents but anyone with a toddler knows how quickly it can happen. I'm just glad he's not one of those that likes to climb on top of the TV and attempt to fly. Yeah, I think I'll take his food obsession over death-defying super toddler.

On that note, I'm thinking it might be wise for us to invest in some hardwood floors. I don't know how much more my carpet can take.

I did catch a cute picture of them today. Sawyer insisted on wearing my yellow shirt (which SHRUNK to half its original length in the dryer, and I am pissed, because I liked that shirt) and dancing around like a maniac. Beckett was enjoying the show.

My child is only two years old and already is picking up disgusting habits. He picks his nose. He bites his nails. He picks at scabs. He is a boy, and is therefore disgusting by default.

But the most nauseating habit by far is his obesession with chewing and sucking on the corner of his blanket. One specific corner. All the time. He has two of the same blanket (because you always need a back-up with things like this) and both, up until today, had a brown, gnarly corner that absolutely reeked. Seriously, no matter how many times I washed them, the brown didn't go away and the stink was huge. We'd go into his room in the morning and be knocked over from the stench. No amount of bleach gets rid of the smell of day-old saliva.

I caught him chewing on the gross corner again this morning and had had enough. So I snatched both blankets from him and performed a quick Frankenstein operation on them. Sliced off the offending corners and replaced them with crisp, new satin binding. HALLELUJAH, no more stink. For now, anyway. I already caught him searching for a new corner to deface. Methinks we may just have to put them away for good, but I'm not quite ready for the sobbing and pleading that will ensue when we do that. So for now, I'll keep hacking them up.

Before:

After:

This was him telling me, "Ohhhh, it's green! Thanks, Mommy!" And then he began frantically searching for his beloved corner and upon realizing it was gone, started chewing a new spot. Sigh.



And Beckett. Sweet Chunky Face. He turned seven months old today. It's looking like seven months is going to be the Magic Age for him, because it's like someone flipped a switch and turned my monster baby into an angelic little cherub. He no longer screeches all day or insists on being a permanent growth from my hip. He plays with Sawyer and crawls around the house on his own and laughs all the time. All three naps yesterday and today were taken without a fuss, by himself. THREE. This is monumental.

He's finally starting to realize that solids aren't so bad and gobbled down two big meals today, which in turn meant he actually spaced out his nursings a little. It was nice to not be on a newborn's nursing schedule for once.

I was nursing him tonight and he was being so playful and cute. He'd suck a bit and then pop off, causing milk to spray all over his face. He'd shoot a big grin up at me and wait for me to say, "Beckett! Why'd you do that!" and then dissolve in a fit of giggles. I am so not used to him being this happy and playful all the time and I LOVE it. I really hope it continues because if it does, I will feel like a new woman.

Happy 7 Months, Funny Face!

crying over spilled milk, originally uploaded by sam&bex.

Today I was finally strong enough to rid the freezer of 58 ounces of liquid gold. With the average freezer shelf life (not a deep freeze) for breastmilk being 2-3 months, this stuff from March and April was not even usable. Beckett refused the bottle until he was almost six months old, so my stash of milk I had pumped in the first six weeks of oversupply just sat.

But there's an attachment that only another nursing mother can understand and I could never bring myself to throw it out until now. I needed the shelf space for the next stage of food, and in essence, stage of life. Next on the list: bury the placenta.

Bear with me while I tweak my layout! Any odd color combinations and layout quirks will be worked out soon.

I'm following the lead of VDog and showing you my desktop for the desktop meme. I'm actually quite proud of mine (and yes, slightly incredibly anal retentive about it). When I got my 24" iMac (aka my Baby), I spent quite awhile deciding which programs to use and which to have in my dock, and replacing all the system icons with cuter, more hip icons.

And yes, you too can have a kickin' desktop! These are the two programs I use to change my system icons and organize all the icons I've collected. They're both free for a limited time, although I paid for them because they rock that much. Oh, and you have to have a Mac to use them. Because anything else is just not cool enough. ;)

• CandyBar2 - Trick out your Trashcan. Decorate your Drives. Mix up Mail.
  CandyBar 2 lets you change the Mac OS X icons you usually can't!
• Pixadex - Pixadex is to icons, what Apple's iPhoto is to images. Brought to you by Panic and the Iconfactory, the team who created CandyBar, Pixadex lets you import, organize and search huge numbers of icons quickly and easily. Pixadex lets you store all of your icons in a single place, organized into collections that you create.

And here's a list of places I get wallpapers and icons from. Sharing the love.

• Pixel Girl Presents - snag the slickest Mac OS X, XP and Icontainer iconsets and desktop images as well as offering tutorials, articles and links.
• The Iconfactory - For all your icon urges
• Deviant Art OS Icons
• Deviant Art Wallpapers

My wallpaper actually changes every five minutes because I love my collection and can never decide which to use. So I took two caps, just for fun. These are actually on different days and I have changed the icons since the first one was taken, hence the different docks. My screen resolution is 1920x1200. Fabulous.





And just so I can be a total geek, the apps in my doc are, from left to right: Finder, Email (yes, that's Hedwig the owl!), iTunes, System Preferences, my camera uploader, Adium (instant messenger), Firefox, Photoshop CS3, jUploadr (Flickr upload client), Chicken of the VNC (to connect to my old computer), Safari, Preview. And the green monster on the far right is my trash can. :)

And here is my Dashboard. Flickr upload client, pictures from my stream, Threadless, Gmail widget, Bloglines notifier, Harmonic, and your standard weather and time widgets.

Today I got the incredible urge to do something crazy again, much the same way it happened the night I was out with some friends and ended up with my first tattoo an hour later. So after picking up some fleece from JoAnn's, DH drove me to the tattoo shop and I got this beauty.

Next on the list: my hair will be making friends with some black and purple dye. Stay tuned.

And by the way, I know, it looks like I have a 'stache in the first picture. I'm not cool enough to know how to Photoshop it. I think it was the lighting? I promise I'm not a man.

I have to take a minute to send out a quick plug. Last week I participated in the Cyber Baby Shower hosted by 5 Minutes for Mom, and I won a prize! I was lucky enough to snag an adorable tee from Blessed Baby. They offer stylish and sophisticated clothing and accessories that also spread the word of God. I chose the Blessed Baby toddler tee, which features an uplifting scripture on the back.

Here are a couple pictures of Beckett modeling his new duds. Thanks again to Blessed Baby for such a cool prize!

What happens when big brother doesn't want to share his puzzle pieces?

Baby brother gets slashed with the samurai fingernails of doom.



I'm sure this is the first of many injuries that will happen at the hand of his sibling. We've been lucky with Sawyer and not had anything too bloody in his two years of life. But I know it's coming, and my bets are on Beckett. Not only is he much more fearless than Sawyer ever was (he's leaped off the couch before I could catch him more than once) but he has the factor of younger brother against him as well.

The younger sibling always seems to be the victim, as was shown by my little brother and I growing up. I was responsible for stitches in his head on two separate occasions involving a wooden baseball bat and a merry-go-round. It definitely wasn't on purpose, but he was so good at obeying my every command, which resulted in him playing catcher too close to my swing and also falling underneath the spinning merry-go-round as he helped me push it. Needless to say, I was faster than him.

As if having me help him along in his injuries wasn't enough, he was also incredibly accident-prone and received stitches in incidents involving a concrete step, a paring knife, a school desk, a broken wine glass and my dad's elbow. Not to mention the numerous sprains and breaks as well as water on the knee. Yeah, the kid has had his fair share of bumps and bruises.

I, on the other hand, have never broken a bone and never had stitches or spent the night in the hospital (not counting Sawyer's birth). So if our children follow my lead, Beckett is in for a rough ride. Maybe I should bite the bullet and invest in a helmet while I still have the chance?

Dear Beckett,

I really wish you could explain to me why your crib seems to be so evil today, and why a nap is so incredibly unappealing. You know that schedule we worked out? The whole go to sleep after being awake for two hours thing? You were doing really good with that. You even got the hang of falling asleep on your own for a little while. Did something happen to change your mind? Monster in the closet? Indigestion? An incredible urge to see Mommy jump in front of a bus?

Even though it took two hours, I do appreciate that you finally went to sleep. You really shouldn't drive Mommy's blood pressure up so high, though. That's not good for you or me. Believe me, if I could cut off a boobie and let you sleep with it, I would. Doctors are still working on that. Until then, lets remember that taking a nap keeps Mommy sane, okay? All the cool kids are doing it. And you, my son, are very cool.

Love,
Mama

Dear Sawyer,

By nothing short of a miracle, you took a nap today for the first time in two weeks. You have no idea how happy that makes me and I would smother you in kisses if you would let me. However, it was really kind of rude of you to fling your door open the second my foot hit the bottom step after getting your brother to sleep. It really would have been nice to have a few minutes to eat, or pee, or you know, breathe.

I will say that I appreciate that you can at least tell me what you want. Even if it does mean that you turn up your nose at my suggestion of grapes and an English muffin, and instead demand "cakes in a bowl." For both breakfast and lunch. I do apologize for my failed attempt at a creative lunch though. I won't be making that again.

Also. The fridge. We really need to work on learning that it's not there for your entertainment. Yes, it's very neat that you figured out how to open the door and insist on practicing that skill 50 times an hour. However, as much as you enjoy carrying around jars of pickles and grape jelly, cleaning the shattered remains of them off the linoleum is not my idea of a good time. I already did that once last week.

Love,
Mama

This is my 50th post! I know, impressive, right?

I met with my tattoo artist tonight and the date is set -- October 26th at 7pm, I'll be getting Sawyer's tree. I told her what changes and improvements I wanted made to my sketch so it will be exciting to see what she comes up with. Of course, I'm the most impatient person in the world and will go nothing short of crazy waiting. But what's two more weeks to have it for the rest of my life, right?

We also met with our new family doctor for the first time today for Beckett's 6-month check-up. Chunky weighs 22 pounds and is 30 inches long. This milk bar apparently produces soft serve. Chocolate and swirl.

I'm attempting to actually go to bed at a decent hour tonight, so I can't stew over this blog post for two hours like I normally do. So here's what we had for dinner tonight. Sinfully bad for you but too good for me to care!

Cheesy Volcano Meatballs

Prep Time: 10 min
Total Time: 24 min
Makes: 4 servings, one sandwich each

1 lb. lean ground beef
6 RITZ Crackers, finely crushed
1/4 cup KRAFT 100% Grated Parmesan Cheese
3/4 cup spaghetti sauce, divided
12 KRAFT Cheddar Cheese Cubes
4 hot dog buns, partially split

PREHEAT oven to 400ºF. Mix meat, cracker crumbs, Parmesan cheese and 1/4 cup of the spaghetti sauce in medium bowl. Shape into twelve meatballs, using about 2 Tbsp. meat mixture for each.

PLACE, 2 inches apart, in shallow baking pan sprayed with cooking spray. Press 1 cheese cube deeply into center of each meatball.

BAKE 14 min. or until meatballs are cooked through (160ºF). Meanwhile, microwave remaining 1/2 cup spaghetti sauce in small microwaveable bowl on HIGH 30 sec. or until heated through (adult assisted).

SPOON sauce evenly into buns. Fill each with three meatballs.

We also did the Bacon, Cheese and Potato Chowder. Not quite as sinful and very very yummy.

I'm getting the itch for more ink. I'm calling the artist tomorrow to schedule a time to go in and talk to her about my design. I'm planning to do my tree tattoo for Sawyer next. I drew up a rough sketch tonight that I'm somewhat happy with, but I'm hoping she can add her own touch to it to make it ten times better. It needs shading and more depth.

If you look closely, you can see Sawyer's name in the roots. I'm not sure if I really like the placement of it, but I know I want his name in there somewhere.

This will be on my upper arm/shoulder, with the trunk and roots on my bicep and the branches cascading up and over my shoulder.