The terror is ONE. She is beautiful, determined, stubborn, and full of smiles. She bullies her brother and the kids at daycare. She is loud when she’s happy, and louder when she’s mad. She never sleeps, not one full night in an entire year. She loves Bagheera (and he loves her). She enjoys playing in her kitchen and stealing her brother’s legos. She is a tornado with stunning blue (for now) eyes and a contagious laugh.
Now you may or may not know that I am from “Nearly-Canada”, New York. And you also may or may not know that I married a midwestern boy… When our love was very young, his family introduced me to a dish called “Biscuits and Gravy”. At the time, his mother warned me, don’t judge it before you’ve tasted it. She was right to do so…it’s not a pretty dish, no awards will be given for presentation, buy my oh my is it delicious.
Well… We’re officially Buffers. We have been living as nomads for most of our lives together. But, we’ve signed the papers now…WE’RE HOMEOWNERS! In March, I wrote about the move into our 7th home. The one that was supposed to offer us a little space to stretch out and a few years to save for buying a house. Well, that dream quickly became a nightmare. It started out on the wrong foot, when we had to move into a three bedroom unit instead of the four we had planned on, and quickly went downhill from there.
Sleeping like a baby… In my world that means waking up every hour, demanding to be fed, then falling back asleep until the next hunger pain hits. Paddy was a terrible sleeper starting from about three months all the way until he was nearly two years old. We foolishly thought his sister had to be better at sleeping than he was. But guess what?!? We were wrong! She is worse! So much worse!
My baby is three. How? I ask myself that question every year, usually everyday. How did he get so big? Where did this intelligent, independent “kid” come from? Where did my “baby” go? I have been struggling with this post for several weeks now, should I document the day exactly as it unfolded? Would it be better to talk about Paddy and who he is? Should I just post some pictures and a little blurb about what is happening in each one?
…We cook-out. And sometimes I wear pink. I like to think I’m punny, but I’m pretty sure that is just a delusion. Anyway, I sketched up this cute little guy to practice my hand lettering and celebrate the summer cookouts that we have each Wednesday at work. This is just one of the many things that I absolutely love about my job. Last summer, we started having weekly cookouts because someone thought it would be fun.
What a sh**show. Mr. Paddy loves to bake. He is always asking me or Grandma to bake with him and I am generally more than happy to oblige. This weekend was a busy one, we had family visiting Saturday which meant I spent the morning running around trying to get a day’s worth of chores and errands done in just a couple of hours, I then made a (delicious) lasagna and entertained our guests once they arrived.
All the rage in mom-fashion…the teething/nursing necklace! A wonderful accessory that not only looks good, but gives little hands something to play with when they nurse and little gums something to chew on when they are teething. There are lots of great places online to find these beauties and I am all for supporting crafty small businesses, but being crafty myself, and (perhaps more importantly) cheap, I decided to go the DIY route.
Every parent wants their children to be like them at least a little bit…if it’s carrying on the family business, going to their alma mater, or cheering for their favorite sportsball team. It’s really no different for us… Well… It’s a little different. We just want our kids to be geeks. Loud and proud. A few months ago, we decided to start Paddy on Star Wars. We wanted to test the waters, see if he would show any interest in it.
When I was in high school, my mom was a single mom and worked shift-work. That meant that we only saw each other in passing a lot of the time. Because of this, I was the kid that always had a note from mom tucked into my lunch or in my homework from the night before. And frankly I loved it! You hear stories about those kids getting picked on, but forget that.