All American Boy

G. had another fun-filled day at Me Me's yesterday. In fact, it was his second day this week since D. had to work. Our little slugger was All-American with his baseball onesie, hat and pie.... scratch that, popsicle.


But as you can tell from that photo, he wasn't too sure about eating the popsicle like most kids do. He decided it was better to touch his finger to the popsicle and then lick his finger.



Me Me also put G. in a large flower pot.

But G. got another unexpected surprise- Toni. From this look, you would think he wasn't too sure about her.

However, this photo shows they are good and well-mannered friends. Neither was attacking the other one. If I were them, I would look out for that cheetah.

Thanks Me Me for a great day!

So Long Doc

...or Pete or Mugsy or whatever you were going to be officially deemed. I think the votes were leaning toward Dr. Pepper though.

We laughed.


One cried (G.).


And another wasn't sure what to think.


But it just wasn't meant to be. Maybe you were ready for retirement. Little did you know that the best place for a horse to retire next to heaven was in that big white barn beside Dazzler. But at last, you had had enough and with a snip of your lips and a jump at the sound of cars passing, you were heading back on that long winding road up to North Texas.


As a side note, G. would cry anytime we came close to the horse. We finally figured out that he didn't like Doc's braids. It makes sense seeing as this was a male horse. Once we took the braids out, he was fine and even went for a ride. We sure do have a funny kiddo.

Strikeout?

It could have been. Should have been, but wasn't. Our first Astros baseball game could and should have been a strikeout, but ended up being a home run for us.
First the whys of how it was almost a disaster:

1. It rained before and after the game, drenching us all. I have before and
after family shots.
2. We almost didn't go to the game because of conflicting nap and feeding
schedules.
3. One of us is hopefully not coming down with a cold. Cough, cough.
4. The Astros lost to the Texas Rangers 5-0.

But, we did go and boy were we glad. There's nothing like going to a baseball game, and this is G.'s first one. He didn't know what was going on, but he was content looking at everything. He's a pretty observant little fellow.


Here's a shot of the field. We were pretty high up. D. and I have sat behind home plate before, but being this far up does have its advantages. You have a good chance of spreading your stuff and your legs out and you get the bird's eye view of the whole field.

G. mostly played with our baseball hats. In the majority of the pictures we took, we're holding one or both of his hands.


And as promised, the before-we-got-drenched family photo:


And the after:


We really did have a great time and despite not having a nap, our little slugger was a good sport.

Once

Only once is our little boy going to be eleven months old (11 is once in Spanish if you get the double meaning), but he sure is living it up.
G. has been:
>pulling up on everything in record speed

>cruising along the furniture and everything else that is chin high

>mastering crawling while holding on to one object

>teething again - I think. There's definitely enough drool to fill a tub and his
hands are constantly in his mouth.

>saying Mama and Dada, although not always to the right person, but mostly to anyone who will listen

>afraid of horses with braids. I really need to post that story soon.

>does his version of singing when anyone else sings

>will let go and balance himself standing for a few seconds

>says "mmmm" when eating

>still has the best smile ever!

So Blessed

Today was my first real Mother's Day. Last year could have technically counted, but there's nothing like holding my baby in my arms on Mother's Day. This morning, he and hunny, gave me cards in bed. G. was so excited that I'm not sure he wanted to give up the card.


We went to church and spent most of the afternoon with family. We had a hairy encounter with the four legged kind, but more on that later. I couldn't feel more blessed to have such a wonderful husband and sweet baby as my two boys.

Blues Artist

Most of you who know us, know that D. is a wonderfully gifted artist. In my book, he's the best, but I'm not partial. Well, we thought with Mother's Day being tomorrow, the grandmothers would like a little something special from a special little someone. We (me) decided, why don't we give them hand prints of G. at almost 11 months old. Instead of doing bright primary colors, we (I) could do something that would blend in nicely with their decor.

I've done hand print art many times with my kindergartners, but it didn't quite dawn on me that my kindergarteners and G. are quite a bit different when it comes to age and skill set. We (I'll include D. since he was helping me with the execution of the project) also should have done this at another time other than right before bed after a full day at a cousin's birthday with about half as much nap time. That being said, here's what we had on our hands.


So, either the circumstances got the best of G. or he's going to use more of the left side of his brain like his Mama. All in all, we scrapped two hand print canvases (washed off the hand prints to retry in the morning), but one came out pretty nice. Hope you're going to like them Me Me and Nonna.

In case you are wondering how we achieved the look, blend brown and gold acrylic paint together and covered the canvases, letting some of the brush strokes show through. Then allow it to dry. Apply a gold wash - gold paint with a little bit of water. Allow to dry again. Take screaming baby's hand (only one at a time), place in paint, and try to press those little fingers flat or else you'll have to scrap the canvas because it looks like your child has a club hand. Paint name on front and date on back. The last step, which we'll do in the morning once it's dry, is apply some brown stain to give it an antique look.

The Luck of the Irish

I've been meaning to post this blog for quite some time- I guess two weeks would qualify as "some time". Two Sundays ago, the family got to enjoy some time together at the Houston International Festival compliments of my dad. And as luck would have it, they were featuring Ireland this year.

One of my grandfathers was part Irish for sure and D. probably has some Irish in him, so we thought we would pay tribute to our heritage and show G. some of his background.

At four months old, he already looked like he could play the part.


Six months have passed. G. has changed considerably and I've had to let the little bit of sewing out on his hat that I did when he first wore it those many months ago. No, it's not a typo. I did sew. ***And guess what! I just found my early Mother's Day present. It's a sewing machine built into a cabinet. I'm so excited since I've been wanting to learn to sew for quite some time. Yea!!


Luck may not have been with us after all because it threatened to rain all day and we even encountered a few showers. That's okay because we had the help of not one keeper of the umbrella but three.


Here's some folks feeling at liberty to soak their feet in City Hall's reflection pool.

I could see these dancers needing a little foot soothing action, but I'm not sure about those other people.

Oh well, me and G. enjoyed watching.

And I couldn't help but post this picture of G.'s cute flip flops. Girls have almost all of the cute accessories, so why not show off some cute boy shoes when we can.

On His Own Two Feet

Look what we found yesterday!

After a few weeks of pulling up on the couch, his pack and play and even his parents, Mr. Man mastered the art of pulling up in his crib. And man, was he ever proud of himself. He's been so proud, that when it comes to nap time, all he wants to do is practice his new skill. That, and chew on his lovely wooden crib. He did finally fall asleep today after a few bouts with his crib.
The only problem is that he is still learning to sit back down. It's not without its hard knocks. This picture of him with a tear is actually because I ran to the other room to get the camera and he didn't appreciate that. Yes, the tear is there, I promise. You can see it if you click on the picture to enlarge it. All seemed to be forgiven though.

And it's been said before, at least around our household, that the sign of a good sleep is wild hair. Sometimes hats help control such ecstatic strands.

But not on days like this:

Don't you just love the drool?!