Paul's birthday comes at an unfortunate time of the year. Last year it overlapped with General Conference and this year it's the same day as Easter. We did the math and the next 4 years should be unique days... no competing with the Atonement and Resurrection or the Prophet.
I spent most of today cleaning and prepping for tomorrow's festivities. This included some grocery shopping and a spur-of-the-moment flower purchase for the birthday boy. Isn't he cute?
One dozen cheerful yellow roses kissed with a hint of orange. In all of his goodness, Paul decided to share. He let me keep 11 of them at home to look at all day. We found a special little vase for a lone rose that he can take and enjoy at work. I love how flowers offer an instant brightness to any room!
Tomorrow Paul will open the rest of his presents after we enjoy a traditional Griffioen Easter dinner. I'm hoping for perfect Springtime weather to make grilling the flank steak that much more enjoyable.
I love seeing Tiny Human things scattered around the house. It isn't the toys and blocks that make me giddy though. It's the little polos and jeans, the tiny socks and the baby spoons. Humans are so much cuter when they are tiny. You can only guess how much delight I got from buying a kiddy size toothbrush and toothpaste for Vince. I grin like an idiot each time I walk into the bathroom and see them.
I've never been one who consistently does her hair. Since Vince's arrival I've transformed from someone who rarely does her hair to someone who never does her hair. There were always excuses about having too much on my plate to find time to do my hair. After a while it began to take a toll on my self-confidence. Still, I couldn't convince myself that it was worth it to take the time to style my hair when there was so much other stuff to do.
Recently, I had a breakthrough. Telling myself that "it" wasn't worth it to do my hair was in essence saying that "I" wasn't worth it. Mothers are expected to sacrifice, but there comes a point where you can give too much. I mean, you can't draw water from an empty well. My sister shared with me that she tries to do her hair once a week so she can look nice on Sunday. I decided that this would be perfect. Once a week I would take just an extra bit of time for me. I've already noticed a difference in the way I feel about myself. And guess what I'm starting to believe?
You can see it in his face... he is too. Sick and tired of wiping ooey gooey banana slime off of it after breakfast, washing his hair daily, stressing about Vince overheating, searching for sores and red spots underneath all of that hair, not being able to enjoy his luscious locks, finding that the base of the helmet rubs the back of his neck and makes is raw... thus resulting in turtle necks for protection. The list goes on.
Would I do it again? Yes. I would. I am amazed at how quickly the helmet has transformed his noggin. At his 7 week appointment the doc was shocked to find that his head had already reached the "high end of normal". We had a choice... continue to 10 weeks as planned and get an even rounder head, or stop fussing and let it be.
After some good old contemplation, I decided to keep at it. We paid a good hunk of money for that plastic torture device and if it could help Vincent's head become even more normal then it's worth an extra three weeks [now or never, right?]. I am so very, extremely and unbelievably happy to announce that we only have one more week left!
Once that bad boy comes off Vince will get his first hair cut. You can also keep your eyes peeled for bumps and bruises... he's in for a rude awakening when he discovers his head is no longer made of steel.
I made and decorated sugar cookies from scratch for the first. time. ever.
Can you believe that? In my 23 years of life I've never done it. To be honest, I've made very few cookies. I'm known for making "bars" like, seven layer cookies, fudge, brownies, etc. When it comes to making cookies I get all nervous. In February I made M&M cookies with my sister, Rachael, and I kept freaking about making the cookies the right size. I'm a rookie, I know.
Paul was here to supervise and ensure I didn't get overwhelmed. He's such a peach. I got to whip out my rolling pin and cookie cutters for the first time! Hearts, flowers, butterflies, Easter eggs, bunnies. I would have whipped out more shapes if I had better frosting supplies. Alas, piping is not one of my skills [yet]. We stuck to the basics.
Uh, but making the frosting was a joke. I got a recipe from a good friend [because her cookies and frosting were to die for]. The icing recipe was vauge-- meaning "as much powered sugar as you need to acquire the desired thickness for frosting". Someone with a brain and any experience would have an idea of how much powered sugar to actually add. Ha. I, on the other hand, was hardly adding any. First time around the frosting tasted like straight butter! Oh so nasty! Don't worry though, we fixed it and made it delish.
Tomorrow we're going to deliver some of these bad boys and introduce ourselves to another young couple with a baby. I'm excited to get out and meet more people in our ward. After nearly 2 years of being ignored by a majority of our ward, we're taking things into our own hands and reaching out. Hooray for Spring and new beginnings.
I've worked long and hard to ensure that Vince is a good sleeper. In fact, he's a great sleeper. I put him down, wrap a blanket around him, pop the paci in and walk out of the room. He makes a few cute baby noises and is down for the count.
That is, until he realized he could stand up in bed...
What used to take less than 60 seconds now takes roughly 60 minutes! We battle it out. I wrap him up, he rolls over and is standing by the time I'm out the door. He babbles, stomps his baby feet on the squishy mattress and eventually starts to yell.
I began waiting longer and longer before I would go in. I kept telling myself he would plop back down when he was tired and go to sleep. In an effort to keep myself out of the room I took a shower. As I stepped out of the shower my fingers were crossed that he went to sleep. Then I heard a long, loud wail. Still awake and still standing.
We're figuring this out and I'm trying to keep him up longer so that he'll actually want to go to sleep when I put him down. Today was better than yesterday, but who knows what tomorrow holds.
This little nugget gets cuter every day. He "dances" all the time, giggles, pulls up on anything and everything, eats real people food, and screams-- like he knows what he's doing and he lets out hilarious cries. Slowly but surely I'm getting thick skin. I know when he's faking it and when he's seriously hurting. Those real cries break my heart. It's a shame that kids have to fall so much while learning to be mobile. I'm actually getting nervous for the day when he no longer has a helmet to protect his noggin. Although I hate seeing him get hurt, I love that he lets me cuddle and console him.
We also learned that vacuums horrify Vincent. You should have seen the look on his face when I turned it on. He started by crawling away from me (crying), then he wanted me to pick him up so he turned around to come to me until he realized that he was coming toward the death machine... at which point her turned around again. This dilemma happened a few times until he crawled to the opposite side of the house and ended up in a corner. Definitely sad, but also hilarious.
Vincent has his nap and eating schedule down to a T. Can you say awesome? With the nice weather I'm able to plan lots of outings, play dates, appointments and walks. I love the freedom that comes with his perfect schedule. Although it can be tough to chase this kid and keep him constantly happy, being his mom has never been better.