One way to discipline

We are in the process of making our upstairs "bonus room" Elle's bedroom. After much consideration and deliberation, we decided in favor of Elle and Grady not sharing a room for now. Yesterday, Steven and I were upstairs rearranging, organizing, rearranging, straightening, moving furniture, etc. I'm not even sure what it was, but Elle did something that required discipline. Steven turns to her and in his stern, fatherly-disciplinarian voice says, "Elle, go to your room." She turns to head down the stairs, and I said, "Well, this is her room." We both bust out laughing. Elle was still crying, unsure of what was so funny. We all had a good laugh and forgot the reason she was supposed to go to her room in the first place.

Firsts

Grady got his first big boy haircut Saturday. I thought it might be a scream fest. Steven said all it took was a sucker and he sat still the entire time.

The before shot:

Why is he always eating at the table in every picture?

And after:

Reese got submerged for his first big baby bath Saturday. Yes, I have just been giving him sponge baths since birth. He's not dirty and the other two didn't like the baby tub until about two months anyway. He was so relaxed the whole time. (I know that doesn't look like a relaxed face. You'll just have to trust me on this one.)

Elle's first will be September 21st. She is having her tonsils and adenoids removed. I wish it were tomorrow. Her tonsils have always been what the doctor called "generous". She had strep throat this summer and now they are just huge. The ENT called them "kissing tonsils". There is almost zero space in the back of her throat. She is snoring like crazy, waking up like crazy. She can barely swallow and her voice sounds like her mouth is full of cotton. I cannot wait to have this done. I think she will be a much happier, well rested, and healthier little girl.

Two and Two

"No."
"Mine."
"Right Now."
These are the words I hear at least once every five minutes.

Grady turned two yesterday.
He is the epitome of everything "two".
He loves to sing and dance. My current favorite is his rendition of The Fray's Over My Head.
He can name several colors, count to five, and recognize most of the alphabet (Thank you, Super Why.)

He has a very ferocious dinosaur roar.
He loves to read books (when he is not tearing them).
He loves to play with play dough (when he is not eating it).

He LOVES his big sister and loves to play with her (when he is not hitting her, biting her, or ripping a toy from her hands).
He loves Reese, too. He just doesn't notice him that much. I think that is probably a good thing.

He loves his Daddy the most (even though you're supposed to love every one the same amount).

He drinks a lot.
He pees a lot.
I change his clothes and the sheets a lot.

He makes me laugh every day (when he's not making me furious).
He loves to hug, snuggle and kiss (when he's not trying to put you in a head lock with his legs).
He loves to suck his thumb... even more than his sister (who hasn't sucked hers in 14 days!).

He is tough as nails and hardly cries when he falls.
But he will scream like a little girl if a fly comes within ten feet.
He is mesmerized by lawn mowers, weed eaters and blowers.

He has the best hair and most gorgeous blue eyes.

"Sons are a heritage from the Lord,

children a reward from him.

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

are sons born in one's youth.
Blessed is the man

whose quiver is full of them."

Psalm 127:5

Grady James is our two year old reward. And we are blessed because of him.

This little guy turned two months old yesterday. He met his great grandmother for the first time. You can tell it was love at first sight for both of them. My grandmother used to keep babies back in her prime. And she loved it. She tells me stories of having nine in diapers at one time. Holding Reese and him smiling and cooing at her made her day. Maybe even her week. At least it made the 2 1/2 hour drive up here worth it.

It's been a rough week for the two of us. Long story short, I was not making fat enough milk for my big boy. He lost 2 ounces since his one month check up. I pumped for a day and a half and fed him formula. We went back to the doctor and he had gained 4 ounces... in a day and a half. I thought I would nurse him and give him formula until I could wean him. After the day and a half of the bottle, he wouldn't nurse. I am now pumping to slowly wean myself and he's getting half breast milk and half formula. I am spending more time with the pump than I care to. Maybe we'll go to the movies again.

I can tell he's putting some fat on those bones now. And he's happy. So I am happy. And a little sad. And I just wonder why. I am sure a lot of you can relate.

Pump Patrol

Not gasoline.
This time I'm talking breast milk.

A card from my mother

A few weeks ago, Steven, my sister and I went to see the Harry Potter movie. I am not ashamed to admit I am a big fan (Big might be an understatement). I have read all the books, most of them twice. I wasn't about to miss the latest installment on the big screen just because I was nursing a newborn. So I did what any desperate lactating mother would do... I threw my dual electric pump in to my purse and took it to the theater with me. And pumped during the movie. No other patron was any the wiser. Steven and Madison got a good laugh though.

I'm interested in your craziest pumping story. Please share with me. I know there have to be some great ones out there.