Monday, March 30, 2009

Introducing Baby Plum

Can you read the caption on the shirt? Bob made it for Little Elvis. It says, "I'm going to be a big brother and big brothers rock!"

See how sweet he is to the baby doll? He's already practicing! (We'll have to work on the proper way to hold a baby, but at least he isn't biting it's head...)

Baby Plum (we discussed Little Presley, but that name was panned by several -- ok, panned very loudly by my father) is due on October 4th. I'm a little over 13 weeks now and we heard the heartbeat for the first time this morning. About 150 beats a minute. Bob and I were thrilled, Little Elvis was not impressed.

I think I mentioned in my post about winning the Wal-Mart gift cards that it wasn't our only big, exciting news. I just wanted to hear Baby Plum's heartbeat before sharing our news.

My blog title finally makes sense again!!

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Fear of flying

This whole "being two" thing just keeps surprising me.

Little Elvis is usually fearless -- to the point of driving me to at least have high blood pressure, if not a heart attack by the end of this summer.

Other than certain healthy foods and mythical creatures that bring gifts, he's scared of nothing. But that changed on the first leg of our flight back home Saturday.

We have to take a puddle-jumper to get to the bigger airport. Usually, he likes this flight. It's about 25 minutes and he likes to look out of the window at the clouds.

It was very windy, yesterday. Very windy. The flight attendant warned us (all 7 of us) about the upcoming turbulence. That warning did little to prepare any of us.

As soon as our little plane nosed up into the sky, Little Elvis began screaming, "No plane!! No plane!!" I tried to tell him we were going up into the clouds. "No clouds!! No clouds!!!!" He continued to yell these lines throughout the flight.

I unbuckled him and he clung to my neck like a little monkey. I could feel his heart thudding and the tenseness in his muscles. He would hide his head in my neck, and then peek out when the turbulence died a bit, only to cry out and hide again.

All of my platitudes were useless to him, especially when the turbulence truly began. Some of the dips were worse than being on a roller coaster.

Thank goodness for seatbelts, because we came off of the seat several times. One of the passengers said her stomach was up in her throat during one of the bigger dips. Another told me that his heart was beating so hard, that he bet I couldn't even hear Little Elvis' cries.

Since my budding musician seems to hate it when I sing, I've long since stopped singing him lullabyes. Right around the time we began our descent, I started singing Little Elvis' old favorites.

Thankfully, he calmed down. He whimpered whenever I took a breath or stopped to think up another song, but was able to turn around and sit in my lap facing out.

I'm so glad that we arrived safe and sound, and that it was a short flight (seemed pretty long, at the time.) I'm also glad that he was so exhausted by the time we got on the big plane that he passed out in my lap before take-off. That ride was much more pleasant in so many ways.

Tunes that calmed my frightened baby: (pretty much all are adapted to include his name)

"Little Elvis lies over the ocean" (from My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean)
"We love you Elvis" (heavily adapted from We love you Conrad from Bye-bye Birdie)
"You are my sunshine"
"One" from A Chorus Line
"Time in a Bottle" by Jim Croce (adapted because I can never remember all of the words)
"Close to You" by The Carpenters (only slightly adapted)
"Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin (no adaptation here. It's a cappella and I like it. I'm sure this will come back to bite me when he demands a Benz because all of his friends drive Porsches and he must make amends.)
"The way you do the things you do" (heavily adapted because we hit one last bought of turbulence and I forgot just about every word except for handle and candle.)

Little Elvis deserves a medal just for sitting through all of that, don't you think? I realize there's no Elvis Presley in there. My mind was such a jumble that I couldn't think of any.

Friday, March 27, 2009

Cheese!

Little Elvis loves the camera. I don't have it in a hiding place here in Mississippi, and whenever he's quiet and in a certain corner, then I can be assured that he's trying to play with the camera. He hasn't figured out how to turn it on, but he does manage to get sticky finger prints all over the view-finder.
He brought me the camera here because I was reading the paper and not paying 100% attention to him.
"What? Me? Play with the camera? Never!! Look at this innocent little face! I would never, EVER get into something I wasn't supposed to. Never!"

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Mommy's new 'do

Little Elvis isn't the only one in our family with problematic hair. Though my problems have more to do with laziness than the cowlicks that I tend to blame.

My hair was getting pretty awful, though. So, I went and got it all chopped off.

Little Elvis seemed to like the new style.

It's always super-styled when I leave the salon, so today it's much more piece-y and a little messy, which is definitely more me. (Not saying it takes an act of God to get me to dry my hair, but Sunday mornings are about the only time I plug the hairdryer in.)

I've felt extremely blah and unattractive the past few months. This haircut makes me not completely dread looking in the mirror. But my make-up bag needs a HUGE makeover.

The last base that I bought (on clearance, maybe that was the problem?) said it was Allure's 2008 best of the best, or something like that. Let me tell you, I DO NOT recommend this stuff. No coverage at all.

As someone who is a whiter shade of pale (See the background of this blog? Think paler.) base that is actually pale enough is hard to find. Thanks to the popularity of Marcia Cross and Nicole Kidman, it's been a little easier. And when your skin is as white as mine, blemishes really stick out, and I won't even go into the dark circles. I need some sort of coverage.

My mascara, which was also on clearance and I think it was also some sort of magazine award winner, runs. No tears are needed to make this stuff smudge under my eyes (this really helps highlight my lovely dark circles.) The weirdest thing is, creams will not take this stuff off at night. I wake up each morning looking like a raccoon.

I'm also not digging my latest lipstick choices either. Anyone got any advice for someone who is extremely pale and just as cheap?

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Hair advice needed

I'm having issues with Little Elvis' hair. On super-humid days his curls are springy and plentiful and bouncy.
They also get springier after a sweaty time spent running outside.
But while they look all cute in these pics, most days they are super frizzy and mostly straight. I hate to cut the curls, but he looks like he has a mullet most days.

When Little Elvis showers with me, I put conditioner in his hair. It makes a huge difference, but that's very, very rare. I also haven't seen any baby conditioners. I did see a detangling spray and was wondering if it might help.

Any advice from people who have experience with curly hair?

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Maybe we'll have better luck next year

We took Little Elvis to have breakfast with the Easter Bunny this weekend.

Bob told me to take the camera and camcorder to capture the fun. While I brought both, neither was charged. The camcorder would have been fully charged had I not left it on during and after the charging process. As for the camera, I knew it was low, but thought I could squeeze one or two pics out of it.

Not that it would have mattered if they were charged.

The bunny was late, so I went to pick up Little Elvis' breakfast -- milk and chicken minis, which look like chicken nugget versions of pigs in a blanket. They looked like meat to my little "vegetarian" though, so he only picked at the bread.

When the Easter Bunny finally made his fashionably late appearance (which was kind of appropriate since several teens were practicing for a runway show during the breakfast) we took Little Elvis over to meet the more than 6 foot tall rabbit.

He said, "No Nunny!!" several times before we even got close to the bunny. My dad stood back to take a cell phone picture for Bob while I took Little Elvis to meet the Easter Bunny. As I inched closer, the screams of, "No Nunny!! No Nunny!! No NUNNY!!!" got louder and louder. He was crying and squealing, so much I asked my dad just to snap a picture of us standing about 5 feet in front of the bunny.

Little Elvis quieted down as we made our way back to the table. And just as I said at Christmas, I muttered, "Maybe we'll have better luck next year."

Thank goodness we have a few more years before the Tooth Fairy starts scaring him.

Monday, March 23, 2009

For Daddy

Bob has had to do without his baby for more than a week now, and I haven't even posted or sent him new pictures. Here are some pictures of Little Elvis' shenanigans in Mississippi.

"What you talkin' bout, Mommy?" (Day before we left.)


Little Elvis loves to hide cars, trucks and apparently even buses under pillows. Coachpa is helping him hold the pillows in place.

If Little Elvis naps, it is almost always in his bed (or in a carseat.) He does not nap on or with others.

Well....
I guess he doesn't nap on Mommy or Daddy.
This is what usually happens.

Little Elvis tried his first slushy type drink this weekend. He liked it. Since we weren't sure which flavor he would like, my dad and I ordered a grape, cherry and orange slushy -- we would take the ones he didn't like. He sipped the grape (purple) one first and didn't seem too impressed. We handed him the orange next and he would not take the straw out of his mouth! When he needed a breather from the icy beverage, he would just stop sucking on the straw, but kept his lips locked on it.

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

History repeats itself

Little Elvis and I are currently in Mississippi, hanging with my family while Bob lives the life of a bachelor. So far, he's dealt with an extremely leaky faucet and snagged $80 of groceries for $16 and change. AND I had most of the coupons with me. Pretty impressive, no?

While hanging out with my grandparents and aunts and uncles on my dad's side of the family one night, I learned about and remembered some very interesting parallels in my family history.

Styling with creams that shouldn't be styled with:

I told my grandmother about all the hijinx my little sweet boy has been getting into, including the Vaseline while I showered last week. She gave me a look and said, "I remember when a certain little girl put face cream all over my hair."

That would be me. And I should have been old enough to know better (maybe 6?) Little Elvis was only 2, and all he did was get the Vaseline on his hands and sleeper.

I, on the other hand, decided to style my grandmother's hair while she dozed on the couch. My grandmother is the type who gets her hair done once a week. She will pick it and spray it each morning.

She was fine with me picking her hair, and it must have felt so good that she dozed off. She woke up with a Kleenex on her hair and lots of goop on top and under the tissue paper, and all in her hair. She wanted to know what it was, and I remember proudly telling her I "styled" it for her. Poor Granny. I'm not sure if she ever let me near her hair after that.

Flour, flour everywhere

While reminiscing about 2-year-old little boy shenanigans, my grandmother told us about the time my dad and uncle (twins) got into a 5 pound bag of flour. She said they were being quiet and she knew that wasn't good. By the time she got into the kitchen, the air was completely white, as was everything in the kitchen. The only things not white, were my dad and uncle's eyes. They must have teared up with the flour, because she said they had dough in their eyelashes. She didn't know why she didn't take a picture, because they had a camera. But I can kind of picture that scene and it makes me smile.

My dad isn't the only one in the family with a flour fascination. When I was younger, I loved raw flour. My mom's mom baked fresh biscuits everyday, and had a drawer full of flour. Everytime we went to visit, I would run to the kitchen for a fingerfull of flour, even though I knew I wasn't supposed to -- again, I was old enough to know better.

I remember one time, quietly shoveling in as much flour as I could while my mom and my grandmother were in the other room. They came back to the kitchen, but I managed to slam the drawer shut just in time.

They asked me if I had gotten into the flour, and I said, "No." Little did I know that my face was covered in white powder.

I have nothing to complain about when Little Elvis deliberately does stuff I tell him not to, do I?

Monday, March 16, 2009

Crazy diaper dreams

I had the craziest dream last night.

Little Elvis and I were shopping at a mall, and he wet his diaper. But I didn't have any clean diapers to put on him.

What do I do? I just carry my son around the mall with a t-shirt on and nothing else -- guess he wet his pants, too?

People kept asking me why I didn't put a diaper on my baby, and I said that I wasn't paying 50 cents per diaper for one of those tiny packs.

Finally, some man gave me a size 3 diaper to put on poor size 4 Little Elvis, and I woke up.

What could this mean? If my baby needed a diaper, I would certainly buy him a diaper, even if it cost 50 cents.

Craziness.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Born to ride

We had absolutely wonderful weather this weekend. And we took full advantage of it. Bob biked Little Elvis over to a local park to play one morning, and we spent lots of time outside in the backyard just enjoying the weather.

We also brought out Little Elvis' tricycle that we bought for him when he was 3 or 4 months old. Yes, we are THOSE parents. I found a great deal on craigslist and was able to respond before anyone else.
At first, Little Elvis wasn't too sure about this new ride. He's never been much of a ride-on toy boy. He prefers to push ride-on toys and will happily push other kids.

But he began to like the feel of the wind... maybe more of a light breeze... through his helmet.He also wasn't so sure about putting his feet on the pedals.
But even got the hang of that by the end of the first block.

Poor Daddy had to tell Mommy this would be the money shot, and still I managed to mess it up. I know the flash was on, but it still turned out fuzzy. You can still see how proud he is.

And he has refused to sit on the trike with his feet on the pedals since that day, preferring instead to push it around with the handle.

Also, for anyone wondering, he got into the Vaseline yesterday while I was showering. He really liked how squishy it felt between his fingers. The tub was in the medicine cabinet over the toilet. Today he just brought down some magnetic letters and numbers that were on a shelf way over his head... at least it used to be.

Monday, March 09, 2009

Teaching Mommy, By Little Elvis

I'm a big two-year-old now and my Mommy needs to get with the program. Things are a-changing!

First, I have curly hair. The longer it gets, the curlier it gets. Last week, I had a little curl on the top of my head 3 or 4 days out of the week.
Mommy likes this look, but hasn't figured out to recreate it whenever she wants. Instead she chases me around the house with a camera so she can take pictures of it. Enough, Mommy! I understand that you think these things are cute, but I am a very busy boy.

This brings me to my second lesson: Mommy also needs to accept that I'm a growing boy. I'm tall. And I must have grown in the past week or so, because now I can reach lots of things I couldn't before.
Mommy gave me a handful of Teddy Grahams the other day and put the bag on the back of the stove while she swept the kitchen. Once she left the kitchen, I grabbed the bag, opened it and poured all of the remaining crumbs onto the floor.
I'm probably lucky that Mommy thought this was funny and took pictures.
If I'm not quite tall enough to reach what I want, I am determined enough to find a way to get it. I also have a great memory when it comes to stuff I want.
The day after the Teddy Grahams incident, Mommy had her usual can of Coke for lunch. I've never had Coke, but that red can is shiny and I've wanted to try some for a long, long time. When I was finished eating, Mommy pushed her Coke to the back of the table, pushed her chair under the table and took me to the bathroom.
Then we played in Mommy's room for about 40 minutes and Mommy forgot about her mostly full can of Coke. I did not.
While Mommy hung up some clothes, I raced to the living room, pulled out her chair, reached over(possibly crawled on the table), grabbed her can of Coke and tried to drink that forbidden nectar right from the can.
Mommy came down the hall a few minutes later and found me dripping in Coke, the chair overflowing with the brown liquid and two huge Coke spots on the carpet (I had pulled the chair out far enough to make sure it wasn't on the plastic floor protector.) I was holding the can sideways, trying to figure out why the liquid wouldn't stay inside like it does with my sippy cups.
No pictures taken this time. Mommy had to try and mop all the stuff up before it set in I guess.
You would think Mommy would have learned at this point that I am bound and determined to make a mess with something every day. I am tall enough to reach stuff I formerly couldn't, and determined enough to find my way into even the most difficult bottles.
But she didn't. Today I reached the back of the bathroom counter, snagged my beloved shampoo bottle and ran to hide with it in my tent until I could figure out how to unscrew the cap. Mommy didn't even realize I had the bottle with me! She loaded the dishwasher and I guess she thought I was blowing my nose or something.
By the time she finished with the dishwasher, I had managed to unscrew the cap and pour two huge shampoo puddles on my new road map floor mat. And my timing was great, because we were just about to leave.
I have a feeling that it will be a lot harder for me to cause hijinx tomorrow, but I'm sure I'll find another way to outsmart Mommy!

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Of course he would love icicles

We got six inches of snow here on Sunday evening. On Monday morning, I blew up Little Elvis sled and steeled myself for a morning outside enjoying the white stuff.He tested out his sled before hitting "the slopes," and it met his approval.
Once outside, he clomped through the powder, which was up to his knees in some areas.
I tried to make us snowballs, but it wasn't really the consistency for that. So we sledded over to visit the neighbors. Little Elvis spent a few minutes trying to gain entry into their house and I ended up dragging a screaming boy back home. Snow does not bring out the best in either of us. Maybe he was just cold.

When Bob got home, we headed back out, and although Little Elvis still wasn't too impressed with the snow, he did find something outside that he liked -- icicles! (He even has his own version of this word! The mimicking is really picking up!) Here he is munching on a beloved icicle.

This love of icicles comes as no surprise to me -- the only thing I craved while pregnant with him was ice. I would happily munch on ice day and night (and much to my co-workers dismay, I did!)

Little Elvis also likes ice, and usually wants a cube or two if we go out to eat. Whenever he demands one, I just smile. Of course my baby would like ice.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

Tiny dancer

Anyone else love dancing shows? I'm pretty much glued to the set when So You Think You Can Dance is on in the summers, and usually I watch Dancing with the Stars. (I am so not into some of the "stars" this year, so I think I will delay watching for the first few episodes, so those "stars" will no longer be on the show.)

But my current dancing love is America's Best Dance Crew. These dancers on this show are so talented! (And this year there are two alums from SYTYCD!)

Without realizing it the other day, we dressed Little Elvis up in a quasi street dance crew outfit.

I realize that not everyone was hip to Elmo's street cred, but he's got it! Don't mess with the Elmo!

Two dance crews are left this season-- one that's all guys and one that's all girls. I'm pretty sure Little Elvis would prefer to hang out and flirt with with the super cute Beat Freaks. But his gender kind of eliminates him.

Quest Crew's not so bad, though. I think he could add a nice element to their group. He's cute, they're cute. They've all got crazy hairstyles, and when that toboggan comes off, his hair goes in millions of directions.

I bet Lil' Mama would tell him that he did his thing and she respected that.

Host Mario Lopez would just be jealous of the dimples.

Yeah, I have an overactive imagination.

Sunday, March 01, 2009

New tricks

At this moment, sweet Little Elvis is blowing his nose in his crib without a tissue. He is not napping and is very happy to snort out his snot everywhere. This fun new trick began last Monday and although he doesn't have a fever or anything, the snot is not letting up.

This new trick is so very cool that when he's not doing it in his crib, he will run around the house and hide from me as he snorts. He refuses to blow his nose into tissues anymore, but sometimes will pull a few out and dab at his nose to tease me before running to hide in his pop-up tent.

The hiding trick is also fairly new and really cute. He's been doing it for about a month now. He has different hiding places for different misdeeds.
If he wants to slurp some snot or put a crayon in his mouth, he will run and hide in his tent. If Little Elvis does not want to put on shoes or his jacket, he will run and crouch behind a chair in our living room. If he's in our bedroom, playing with the alarm clock, some blank CDs, my jewelry or the humidifier, he will cower behind one side of the bed, just peeking his little eyes over the top to gauge my mood over his indiscretions.
That little peek does a lot to help him. I am a total wimp when it comes to those big brown eyes or that dimpled little grin.
He also likes hiding under his Cars blanket that my aunt made him for Christmas. He ran down the hall like this the other day and it was so funny! He looked like a bright yellow ghost. I couldn't get to the camera fast enough to catch that moment, so you will have to trust me that it was cute.
The number of pictures we take of him has dropped the past few weeks. I've been tired, but he's also a much more difficult subject to catch on camera.
Why pose for the camera when you can sit in Mommy's lap?