Alone...Sort of

Well, the last wave of grandparents has departed and I'm on my own. The three kids...and I. Three to one. I don't like those odds. It's not too bad right now, when Hadley is napping and King Rocky is dozing during his tummy time. The nurse in the pediatric unit would have a coronary if she saw him. For those of you who don't know, Harrison was admitted to the pediatric unit of the hospital for his jaundice when I was dismissed from the hospital. The only way I could get him to settle down under the photo therapy lamp was to put him on his side or stomach. Although I was literally next to him, watching him the entire time, the pediatric nurse went nuts when she saw me and lectured me soundly on the dangers of SIDS. Needless to say, that did NOT go over well.


Anyhow, all is peaceful and quiet when two out of three Davis children are dozing. It's the waking hours that can be a bit tricky. It's tough to remember that this is a big adjustment time for everyone. It's especially difficult to remember when Thatcher decides to pee-pee in the mesh trash can or when he breaks every single Christmas ornament he has received this year.

That was written on 30 December 2009, and I obviously never got around to finishing that thought. That is probably the last time I was "alone...sort of" as the title implies. I figured I'd go ahead and hit the "publish" button, though. I had just about forgotten that Thatcher broke all of those ornaments and went through a week-long "pee in the trash can" bender.

This otherwise unfinished draft of a blog post serves as a good reminder that this, too, shall pass; that the moment's crisis will be long forgotten minutes, hours, days, and certainly weeks later. Or, more aptly put, I won't remember the crisis because three children are rapidly depleting my once abundant supply of memory.

All Hail King Rocky

We are overjoyed to officially welcome Harrison (aka King Rocky) to the Davis Family Blog. Now, this mommy will REALLY need a mocha!

Harrison's arrival into the world was amazingly pleasant, especially compared to that of his brother and sister! My dad and Chad drove me to the hospital at 5AM Monday morning while my mom stayed home to keep Thatcher and Hadley. I had made the critical error of telling dad that my doctor is British, so I spent the next few hours fearing he would try to break out his AWFUL impersonation of an English accent. I checked in at 6AM, got loaded up with the IV, listened to the ipod, and joked with the med student who was taking my medical history (Med Student: "Have you used any recreational drugs during your pregnancy?" Danielle: "No, but I'm really looking forward to it once the baby comes."). They wheeled me into the OR at 7:45 with a "cut time" of 8AM. Thanks to the completely painless spinal block, I didn't feel a single tug, pull, or anything at all. Then, at 8:30, I heard him! He cried...loudly...and, unlike Hadley, he didn't stop. It was a beautiful sound, especially to anyone who has ever had a baby who did not come out crying.

It was through this haze of joy that I heard the doctor say, "Wow, he's a big boy;" but I was certain it was the drugs talking when I thought I heard someone say, "Nine pounds, nine ounces." After all, his 37-week ultrasound indicated he was weighing 7 lbs. 2 oz. To put it mildly, they were a little off on that one.

In another first, I was able to hold Harrison in the delivery room. I had barely seen Thatcher and (certainly) Hadley before they were whisked away, but they let Harrison linger. We took pictures, we talked, we discussed health care reform. It was great. I was also able to nurse him in the recovery room about an hour after he was born, which was another huge answer to prayer.

Because of the H1N1 outbreak, the kids were not allowed to come to the hospital at all during my five-day vacation, I mean "stay." Thanks to the spinal block, my recovery was a breeze; and I was ready to get up and get moving. Mom and dad took turns getting lost on the way to and from the hospital to keep me company, while Chad spent the bulk of his time wheeling, dealing, and manning the kids. Bless his heart. Plus, I had news coverage of the Tiger Woods scandal and the Salahi's crashing the State Dinner for India to keep me entertained.

Then, of course, there was Harrison. Thanks to his largess, he was a voracious eater from the start. I had always read that some women need to spend all day in bed, nursing their babies for hours on end to bulk up their milk supply. Never, until Harrison, did I think I would actually be one of them. Nursing him for 40 minutes every hour on the hour made me a convert. Like all previous Chad & Danielle productions, he had jaundice. Thanks to my plethora of milk and his prolific bowel movements, however, he did not require any lengthy interventions to get it under control. Well, sort of...but that's another story for another day.

I like to call this, "Blue Light Special."

Diva Davis

Someone in our house has been hamming it up, trying to ensure her position as Top Diva.

Wanting Winston to Try on the Jeff Gordon Hat

"See, it looks REALLY good on you, Winnie...

...but let's face it, no one looks as good in a hat as I do."

Thatcher, on the other hand, has turned on the charm offensive. Here he is reading to Hadley.

Why "Wadwee" is wearing her raincoat to bed, I don't know.

Sometimes there aren't words to describe this child...

...but the song "Damn, it feels good to be a Gangsta" comes to mind.

Then again, just when you think she's so street, she breaks out the Hello Kitty necklace, Cinderella marshmallows, and hair bun.

Rocky's Blog Debut

Yesterday I went for a 37-week ultrasound. Harrison (aka Rocky) appears to be weighing in at 7 lbs. 2 ounces. By way of comparison, Thatcher measured 8 lbs. 4 oz. at his 37 week ultrasound--and that is actually what he weighed at birth. In typical second child fashion, I can't recall what Hadley measured; but she was 7 lbs. 4 oz. at birth. Other interesting ultrasound findings are that this child has hair. No big surprise given the heartburn I've been enduring, but I was stunned that they could actually see it!

In other news, the doctor noted that there seems to be a dilation in Harrison's renal collection system, which collects urine from the kidney tissue and routes it to the bladder. Harrison's right one measured anywhere from 8mm to 10.5mm, and the high end of what this radiologist likes to see is a 7.5mm measurement. This is interesting for a number of reasons, the first of which is that this has not been detected on any of his previous ultrasounds. The ultrasound showed that Harrison's kidneys and bladder are both "normal," and he has ample amniotic fluid to make it through the next 16 days. Anyhow, from what I understand, the issue often resolves itself before the baby is actually born or during the first year of life, so Chad and I ARE NOT WORRIED. The radiologist just said he would like for the doctors to keep a lookout for any symptoms after he is born. We are thankful for the extraordinary advances in sonography that can detect such tiny things...and for the often-times needless stress they can cause! :) And, again, we would like to reiterate to the great-grandmothers and great-aunts who read this that we are NOT concerned about this possible development.

So, after all that, here are some pictures of our third and final child. Don’t be alarmed by the cauliflower-like growth in front of his face. It’s the umbilical cord. In the first image, you will (if you try) see his eye, cheek, and the corner of his mouth. His head is looking down, and the cord is covering the rest of his face. In the second one, you can see his lips really well underneath the cord. Again, don’t be alarmed by the blurriness of one eye or anything else. It looks rather freaky, I do admit.

Backyard Explorer

Chatty Hadley

Bedtime Ritual

Every night, this is what I hear when I tuck Thatcher in bed:

"Mom, at night, if I have a bad dream, I will wake up and go into your room, and I will say to you guys, 'I had a bad dream, may I sleep with you?' Then you will say, 'Yes, yes, you may."

Every night.

The written word doesn't convey his matter of fact tone or the delight in his voice when he says, "You will say, 'Yes, yes, you may." It's pretty funny though.

I'm also delighted that he knows the difference between "can" and "may." He may look like Chad, but he clearly is displaying his mom's love of grammar at a young age.

The Cleanup Fairy

Danielle: "Thatcher, you need to pick up your toys so the cleanup fairy doesn't get them while you're sleeping."
Thatcher: "Maybe we'll just close the playroom door so she doesn't see them."

Fast Forward to an Hour Later...

Thatcher: "Mom, do you think you could pick up my junk so the cleanup fairy doesn't get it?"
Danielle: "I'd rather not, Thatcher. I didn't get it out. Plus, it is really hard for mommy to bend over to pick things up."
Thatcher: "Well, you could use your toe to get it."

Sleeper Cell

I'm not entirely convinced Hadley isn't part of some sort of Hamas sleeper cell, except for the fact that she just doesn't sleep. 20 months of no sleep - for her, for me, for Chad. Somehow, Thatcher can sleep through anything. I'm not even counting the last trimester of my pregnancy with her when I didn't sleep because of heartburn, constant trips to the bathroom, and the general discomfort of having an extra 35 pounds tacked on to your body.

We have been up since 2AM this morning. She screamed the entire time. She screamed for mommy, for daddy, for Thatcher, for her new Belle book, for hair (for some reason, she has a strange obsession with people's hair). At 5:15, I got her up for the day. She's happy as a lark. The rest of us...not so much.

Trust me, we've tried everything. We've Ferberized. We've Babywised. We've co-slept. We've slept on the floor in her room. Please, don't ask if we've tried (insert whatever it is you want to ask if we've tried) because, yes, we have.

I can't wait to have this next baby because I will get four nights of (relative) sleep in the hospital, and it will be bliss. Bliss.

Want a Cookie?

Well, it looks as though we may have survived the swine flu. To put it mildly, the kids are going insane after being cooped up in the house for six days. Hadley almost literally went insane from the meds she was on, but that's another story entirely. Yesterday, we decided to bake some sugar cookies to pass the time and give the Disney Channel a much needed break. I'm sure you're going to want some.

Pigs are Flying

My Aunt Margaret flew in for a long overdue visit Saturday morning.   I had visions of the two of us spending time in the kitchen, whipping up culinary delights as well as comfort meals to sock away in the freezer for the post-baby days.  We'd make scones and have tea in the afternoon; spend copious amounts of time at Wegmans; the Williams Sonoma Outlet had stocked up in anticipation of our arrival.  Sure, I hadn't quite figured out where the kids figured into all of this, but this is why they have a father.  Besides, they love to cook and would have gained some priceless lessons at Margaret's knee. 

Alas, the swine flu had other plans for our family.  Hadley started getting sick in the wee hours of Sunday morning.  Thatcher then developed the fever (or "feeber" as he likes to say) Monday morning.  A Monday afternoon doctor visit confirmed that H1N1 was paying us a visit.  Urgh.  We are now all on the antiviral, Tamiflu, to the tune of $475, which is enough money to make you sick even if you weren't in the first place.  At this point, I'm only on it as a preventative measure, and we pray that it stays that way.

So, Margaret got to spend her "vacation" cooking, cleaning, and sanitizing.  It was a huge blessing, but probably not the most relaxing trip.  We tried to convince her that it was selfish of her to leave and possibly expose others to the virus, but it didn't work.  Do we know how to entertain guests or what?

Although we're down, we're definitely not out in the humor department.  This afternoon, Thatcher looked at me and said, "Mom, why don't you get off the couch and make me sumpin (something) to eat."  I can't decide if that sounded more like Daddy, Papa Wayne, Papa Cecil, or Uncle Devin.  It's pretty much a tie. 

Men

Chad: "Why is it that you get to take a nap?"
Danielle: "Because I'm 8 months pregnant.  That's why."

Preparing for Baby (10 weeks from now)

Thatcher: "Mom, what are we going to do when you and the baby come home from the hospital?"

Danielle: "I don't know, Thatcher.  What would you like to do?"

Thatcher: "Maybe we could just chillax."

A RAISIN to Laugh

Thatcher: "Mom, I need you to get something out of my nose."
Danielle: "What's in your nose, Thatcher?"
Thatcher: "A snack."
Danielle: "Thatcher, how did a snack get in your nose?"
Thatcher: "Well, mom, that would be my fault..."

Dress Up

Thatcher went over to Lauren's to play yesterday. I am pretty confident this was his first time playing dress up.  Clearly, we need to go over some ground rules.

Santa List

The "Back to Basics Toys" catalog arrived last week. I managed to keep it hidden until a couple of days ago when I broke down and gave it to Thatcher in a moment of desperation. That catalog can buy some serious chunks of free time for me. The video is pretty self-explanatory. For those of you who knew my brother, Devin, when he was little, this may be a little frightening.

Oh, and in case you don't believe me about Hadley's obsession with her Georgia Tech hat, here is a shot of her at our neighbor's backyard kiddie pool party on Labor Day:

Sending Summer Off with a Bang

The Davis family rarely does anything low key. Trust me, it's not by design. It's not by choice. It's just the way God wired us, the way we roll.

After three months of negotiations, Chad finally decided that it was time to cross the threshold into minivan territory. I've been rallying for this decision ever since finding out that baby #3 is en route. After all, Thatcher would have to get in and out of the trunk to access the third row seating in the Honda Pilot once the baby arrives. How fun preschool drop off and pick up would be--especially in the rain--trying to get Hadley and the baby out of their respective doors AND Thatcher out through the trunk! Chad has wavered on making the trade, so I had put it out of my mind...until Friday morning when he unexpectedly announced that we should make the trip to Carmax to see what they would offer us for the year-old Pilot. That night, we bid adieu to Skunk One and drove Onezma, the 2008 Honda Odyssey EX-L, home.

If you ever need to make a significant vehicle transaction, here are some tips:

• Sell your car to Carmax. They offer top dollar and beat dealer prices by at least $4K.
• Don't take your children to the car dealer. Ever. Even if the dealership has a cool indoor playground for the kids. Trust me, even the coolest playgrounds become tiresome after four hours.
• Calculate the time you think it will take to make the transaction (i.e. trade-in, straight sell, purchase, etc.), and double it...at least.

The kids (and Chad) are completely in love with Onez. They LOVE to explore her new features - especially the navigation system and rear camera, which have lots of buttons for them to press. Chad is delighted to have more room, while I'm happy that Thatcher will not have to go through the trunk. Oh, and another big plus is that, unlike the Pilot, Onez doesn't smell like skunk.

Sunday afternoon, the kids and I were configuring the inside of Onez while Chad cleaned out the garage. It's a bit difficult navigating the inside of any vehicle with two kids flanking you, especially when you are seven months pregnant. After about 15 minutes, I abandoned the project and took Thatcher inside to make some ice cream, leaving Hadley playing in the open minivan under daddy's "supervision." Literally two minutes later, Chad summoned me to the garage whereupon he announced that Hadley was locked in the minivan. Unbeknownst to anyone, the kids had pressed the lock button while inside the vehicle with all the doors open, and then Chad closed all the doors...with Hadley inside.

After about 20 minutes of trying to convince Hadley to press the unlock button, I called the Loudoun County Volunteer Rescue Squad (LCVRS). Yes, these are the same WONDERFUL men who came to our house for the skunk incident when Hadley was born. Once again, the LCVRS did not disappoint. Just as Hadley was reaching meltdown mode, a fire truck, police car, ambulance roared up to our house. After several unsuccessful attempts to open the door, they were able to open my purse (inside the car), fish out the keys, and pull them through the door. After she freshened up, they presented Hadley with a big, stuffed, fluffy dog for being such a brave girl throughout the ordeal. Truly, these guys are amazing!

As amazing as the LCVRS is, my darling husband nevertheless provided the most entertaining part of the whole experience. When the police officer asked, "How did this happen?" Chad--who had closed all the doors of the minivan in the first place--coolly replied, "That's the big mystery. I suspect it had something to do with my three year-old son, who is inside the house."

Honda Pilot Trade-In Value: $26K

New minivan: $30K

Loudoun County Rescue Squad Service: Free

Blaming Your Preschooler for Locking Your Daughter in the Car: Priceless

Shine City

On Monday, we went to the "airport playground" outside of Wegmans. Hadley busted her lip trying to climb up a cargo truck toy. Moments later, Thatcher walked right into the same truck and nailed his forehead. He didn't hit it hard, but he hit it in just the right spot for maximum impact. Unfortunately, he is adamant in his belief that ice does not, in fact, make knots and bruises any better. Thanks to his stubbornness (wonder where he gets that), both of his eyes are now black.


On a bright note, the accident somehow managed to render Thatcher really helpful. Yesterday, I was sorting the laundry on the floor and he started putting it all into the same basket. I explained to him that we can't wash whites with darks, gentles with heavy duties, etc. I really didn't think anything of it until a few hours later when I went back upstairs. He had put all of the sorted laundry into separate baskets and took them into the laundry room for me. Who is this child - and can he train his father???

Now that the weather has turned cooler in the evenings, we usually have dinner and after-dinner playtime outside. With these hosta-eaters--I mean "spectators"--in our back yard, can you blame us?

All of the landscaping we did over the summer--or all of it that has not been eaten by the deer--is in full swing now, so we have a large contingent of bumblebees that enjoy feasting on our azalea, phlox, and sedum in the evening. Thatcher kept them company while they ate for a good half an hour last night. It went a little something like this: "Hello, bees. Are you eating supper? Will you go make some honey now, please? Hey, bees, did I tell you I'm going to go trick or treating this Halloween? I want Winston and W to go with Lauren and me. Bees, are you going to go on Halloween?"

More Gangsta

The aforementioned Georgia Tech hat. The Mickey Mouse bracelet really rounds out the ensemble of lavender shorts, pajama top, and hot pink Sleeping Beauty Crocs, don't you think?

Danja

Obviously we knew what we were doing when we gave Hadley a Gangsta nickname (Danja) before she was even born. She usually sports a pink Georgia Tech cap my friend, Bill, gave her when she was born. Today, however, brought the trendy ensemble of polkadots, teapots and cupcakes (on the leggings), Hello Kitty, and Thatcher's Atlanta Braves hat - naturally worn backwards AND askance. She is so street!

Hey, Chad

We flew to Kentucky yesterday morning for a family reunion. It is always a relaxing and fun time - even though there will be seven kids under the age of five in attendance. En route, Thatcher somehow took to calling Chad by his given name. It probably won't translate well, but you'll have to trust that it is absolutely hilarious when he says:

• "Hey, Chad, are you taking us to the airport?"
• "Hey, Chad, are you going to go on the plane with us?"
• "Hey, Chad, I want to see that movie."
• "Hey, Chad, why are we going on that road?"
• "Hey, Chad, can you come in here?"
  
• "Hey, Chad, I was just kidding. Ha ha ha."
  

What Fairy Tales are Made of...

This morning, Thatcher asked, "Hadwee, may I have this dance, please?" She shook her head no and tried to push him away. Chad told Thatcher he didn't think Hadley wanted to dance. Thatcher's reply: "But, Dad, that's what they do in fairy tales."

Blessed are the Peacemakers

Lately, Thatcher and I have been talking a lot about Matthew 5:9: "Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called sons of God." Specifically, we talk about how we should strive to be peacemakers, rather than troublemakers. This morning, I overheard him playing in the playroom with Hadley. His conversation went a little something like this: "Hadley, can I have that toy please? Remember, you need to try to be a PACEMAKER and not a troublemaker." Close enough.

Blessings

Thatcher Saying the Blessing

Not to be outdone, Hadley has her own way of getting the camera on her at mealtime.

Bed Time

That book is a real snore.

Thatcher "tucking in" Donald Duck.

The Next Emeril

Thatcher requested rice krispies for breakfast this morning. He went into a panic when I gave him a bowl of them, insisting that rice krispies are square and don't have milk on them. It was then that I realized he wanted rice krispies TREATS. Five hours of "Can we make rice krispies treats" questions later, here is what he did:

Because I'll hear it if Hadley doesn't get equal airtime, here she is doing what she does best - showing off her favorite body parts and playing with her favorite guys.

Shattered

In the past three hours, Hadley has shattered one pyrex measuring cup and one antique china serving bowl. She is dangerously close to dismantling my spirit.

Conversations in the Car

Thatcher: "Mommy, can we play gob (golf) today?"
Danielle: "Thatcher, I'm afraid it's going to be too hot to play golf today."
Thatcher: "Mommy, some gobers (golfers) play gob when it is really hot outside. You know that."

Upon hearing Hadley ask for "more" fruit snacks for the 457th time in 10 minutes, Thatcher replies, "Hadley, they're all gone. I told you that three times."

Hadley upon reading her new book, "The Shy Little Kitten:" Ki-kat, ki-kat, ki-kat, ki-kat." Hadley upon dropping her new book: "Book, book, book, book, book. Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy. Book, book, book, book, book." Hadley after I hand her the dropped book: "Ki-kat, ki-kat, ki-kat, ki-kat." Repeat conversation in its entirety until arriving home some 20 minutes later.''

Thatcher to our pediatrician, Dr. Reilly, (not to mention his Sunday School teachers and anyone else who will listen): "We went to Disney for vacation. While we were there, my granddaughter ate a bug. It was stinky and disgusting." For the record, I have no idea who his granddaughter is or why she is eating bugs.

The End of an Era

Upon reviewing my children's postings--or lack thereof--on their blogs, I've made the executive decision to take over their blogging responsibilities. It would seem that Thatcher and Hadley are simply too overwhelmed with their hectic summer schedules and travel plans to maintain a steady writing regimen. They've fallen down on their duties, and I confess that I am, perhaps, partly to blame. The kids have taken to using Facebook to convey their summer antics, leaving the average "Jam Master T" and "Hadley's Happenings" reader to wonder just what those little munchkins have been up to since their last postings in May. How else would you know that five weeks ago, Chad called a first ever "Family Meeting" to ask Thatcher (and the rest of us) if we would like to go on a Disney vacation in a few weeks? How would you know that the kids are obsessed with playing golf at all hours of the day? How would you know that Hadley's vocabulary is expanding at an alarming rate - and that Thatcher, the boy who didn't speak until he was 2 1/2, rarely stops talking?

So, at least for now, the kids are signing off of the blogs and letting mommy take over. Besides, my computer has far too many little fingerprint smudges all over it to let them continue typing on it much longer. You'll still get the same Thatcherisms and updates on Hadley's fierce determination and eating and sleeping dramas. You'll just be getting them from my perspective...from the trenches...from a sleep and caffeine deprived mom of what soon will be "three kids three and under." The blog might not be coherent, but hopefully it will appear more than once every three months. If you want more, feel free to come keep the kids so I can run away to write!

Danielle

lkuuuuu (self-typed)

It's been awhile since I have written, I know. I've been busy trying to sleep. At long last, I have settled into a sleeping routine mommy and daddy can bear. In other words, they figured out what I need in order to sleep. These things are as follows:

1. Dark. I will not go to sleep in my room unless it is dark. Don't even bother trying to put my down while it is still daylight outside. I will scream until it is dusk, at which point I will fall asleep. Seriously, don't even try it.
2. The door must be open. I like to know I'm not shut off from the rest of the world, so don't even think about closing my door. As long as you put me down when it is dark, I won't scream and you won't even know I'm drifting off to dreamland.
3. Companions. I need Buddy, my green frog, in one arm and my as-yet-to-be-named sheepdog in the other.
4. My Green Blanket. This is the latest addition to the bedtime arsenal. My Aunt Margaret gave me a green and white blanket when I was born. It is similar in texture to a blanket mommy's grandmother made for her when she was born. It's soft, snuggly, and the perfect size for a fairy like me.

If all the stars have aligned, the sun has set, my door is open, Buddy and Sheepdog are in hand, and I'm nestled under my blanket, I come dangerously close to sleeping all night. At some point, I usually come out from under my blanket, get cold, and wake up. Mommy just comes in and gives me a hug, so I lie down, let her cover me up, and go back to sleep.

Thanks to daddy, I've also started saying more words. My favorite--by far--is "kitty cat." Every thing with four legs is a "ki-cat." Winston is "Tinton" and W is "duhdah". Daddy has also taught me how to say Thatcher.

Winston and W have joined me in my battle against food. I still have eating issues. I take a bite, then give one to Winston and one to W. It drives mommy NUTS, which is an added bonus. Mommy thinks there are days when I take in no more than 2-3 tablespoons of food. Then, there are days like today when I eat some frosted mini wheats, two Chick-Fil-A chicken minis, and tatertots - all before 10AM.

PS - Just as mommy hit the "publish post" button, I emptied the contents of my stomach onto her and the couch.

Since I give Winston and W so much food, it is only fair that they let me drink out of their water bowl.

Mommy let us play in the sprinkler the other day. It was a blast. Check out all three of my teeth.

We've had so much rain that we actually had ducks in our front yard yesterday! Well, that is until I chased them off...

Jersey Boys

Mommy went to see Jersey Boys on Broadway last weekend for her birthday. When she got home, she found the soundtrack on sale for $10 at Target, so we had to buy it. Now, I'm totally into the Jersey Boys. I want to hear my song--Sherry--every time we are in the car. If I happen to hear mommy watching something Jersey Boys on You Tube, I have to stop what I'm doing so I can join her. They better be singing my song while I'm watching, too; none of this "Can't Take My Eyes Off You" nonsense. Sometimes, I forget the words to my song, so I substitute words from other songs I already know. Example: "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, come out toniiiiiiiiiiight. Jingle Bells, come out toniiiiiiiiiiiiiight." I think mommy might like it better that way.

A Picture is Worth A Thousand Words

Dying Easter Eggs at Gran's House.

Talking on Monster Truck Telephones with Aunt Sherri

Going through Hadley's Easter basket and wondering why she got Peeps and I didn't. "Easter Bunny bring Hadwee Peeps. Easter Bunny not bring me Peeps. (Incredulously,) I love Peeps." My shock over the Easter Bunny's clear oversight remains one of the most hilarious things mommy has ever heard.

I'm going through a "clothing optional" phase.

Postcards from April

While in Atlanta, I fell in love with babies. Anytime we were out and I saw them, I had to have them - as many as my arms could hold. They cannot be wearing hats, though. All of the babies you buy come with hats. I hate them. My children will NEVER wear them (probably because they will have lots of hair like their mommy).

Mommy and Thatcher dyed Easter Eggs without me. To protest, I stealthily went into the spice cabinet, found gran's food coloring, pulled out the blue dye, and chugged it. That'll teach them not to dye eggs without me.

Chocolate...The Easter Bunny brought me chocolate!!!

In my Easter finery at Granddaddy's

Posing for the Cameras

Difficult

Difficult seems to be the word of the day lately. Hadley is a difficult sleeper. Hadley is a difficult eater. Hadley is being difficult at nap time. Can you blame me for not blogging when I'm so busy being difficult?


Frankly, I don't buy into all the hype. I think I'm perfectly charming. I laugh all the time (when I'm not screaming, that is), and point to things I need and want. I really try to focus on tending to others' needs. For example, I spend countless moments trying to exercise the boys by chasing them, grabbing their tails, and attempting in vain to turn them into ponies. Whenever mommy is reading Thatcher a book, I don't take it personally. There is no way they could have known which book I wanted, so I'll get it, climb into mommy's lap and "persuade" them that my choice is clearly the better one.

Speaking of climbing, did I mention that I'm going to scale Everest by the time I'm two if I keep going at the same rate? I climb into my high chair. I climb onto the kitchen table (and dance on it). I LOVE to climb.

I'm also trying to talk. Gran discovered that my first non-mommy/daddy word was (drum roll, please): Thomas - or "Tah-es" as I like to say. Daddy has been teaching me how to say kitty cat (ki-cat), while mommy has taught me how to say "bird" (bud). Of course, I can say Winston (Dinton) and W (Duhda), too.

So, you tell me...difficult or delightful? I'll let you be the judge.

This Just In...

...my kidneys are fine! Hooray. My thyroid, on the other hand, is now acting a little funky. By way of background, all of this blood work was initially done to check my thyroid, and the first round of blood work indicated that it was a-okay. The lab results from yesterday's testing, however, indicated that my TSH levels are 5.3, which is considered high. The doctor is going to have some more tests run on the blood they already have (whew) to check the T4 levels. Mommy hasn't done all the research yet to better explain to me what this could mean, but I wanted to keep you posted. Oh, and I don't know the results of the Celiac panel yet.

Things I Do and Say

This is what happens when I dress myself. I think I look smokin' hot. Who cares that it was 35 degrees outside and that my one boot is on the "wrong" foot?

The following phrases are in heavy rotation lately.

1. I not like it.
2. Dood it again (Pronounced "ah-gi-un" or with the most southern accent imaginable)
3. Hadwee go away.
4. Hadwee drive you crazy, mommy. I not drive you crazy.
5. I want food off my pwate, sweetheart.
6. I not want to.
7. I want daddy come back my house. (Mommy note: Daddy does live here, but is gone before the kids wake up and comes home after they are in bed due to tax season.)
8. Sing "Jesus Wuff Me."
9. I go pee pee Lightning McQueen.
10. Let's go MOPS.

A Bedtime Conversation

Thatcher: "I want see my penis."
Mommy: "Okay,"
Thatcher: "What it dood-n?"
Mommy: "It's just resting in your pants, honey."
Thatcher: "It's a monster. It scare you."

My Battle with Food

This pretty much sums up my relationship with food. I can take it or leave it. Usually, I leave it...and if I happen to take it, I'm going to put it in my hair, rather than my mouth. For the record, that is peanut butter.

My blood work came back a couple weeks ago, and my thyroid is fine. My electrolyte levels, on the other hand, were "a little low" and the doctor said my blood was too acidic. That means that I may have something called renal tubular acidosis (RTA), which (from what mommy can tell) is a disease that occurs when the kidneys fail to excrete acids into the urine, which causes a person’s blood to remain too acidic. Great. Apparently, the altered pH of a person with RTA can decrease the appetite and adversely affect weight gain. Lovely. I go back to the doctor on Wednesday for more testing, so we hopefully will know if there is something really wrong with me or if I am just being stubborn in my battle against food.

Truthfully, I am frustrating mommy to no end with my lack of appetite - especially since her priority in life is to get me to gain weight so I can once again be on the CDC growth chart. Yesterday, I had 3/4 of a cheese egg for breakfast. For lunch, I had two pieces of macaroni and five peas. Dinner was a bit of an improvement - I had about a tablespoon of meatloaf, some green peas, a tater tot, and some dessert Nana left me. She's tried everything to lure me into eating, even resorting to giving me foods Thatcher NEVER would have had (Bagel Bites, fast food cheeseburgers, french fries, daily peanut butter milkshakes) to make sure I am eating the most fattening things imaginable. She's tried everything under the sun and has said she would give me Winston and W's poop if she thought it had a lot of calories and I'd eat it.

Happy Times

Eating the Strawberry Cream Cheese Angel Food Cake Dessert Nana Made

Things I Love

I am a climber. If there is a remotely elevated surface, I am going to climb onto it. Here I am IN the toy basket.

The drawer underneath the oven really is the perfect height for me. Plus, it has the added bonus of holding pans for me to organize. Organizing, by the way, is one of my other passions. I like to sort things, including the food on my high chair tray and laundry. Mommy says I'm a big helper.

My biggest love, however, is daddy. I don't see him much because it is tax season and he goes to work before I wake up and comes home after I'm asleep. If I do catch a glimpse of him, it's all over. He can do no wrong...unless you count putting me down. That really ticks me off because, frankly, if he is home, he should be devoting ALL of his attention to me.

I even try to do things to get his attention. For example, here I am wearing his Masters hat. How can he not want to hold me?

Look Who's Three

Word on the street is that people in Atlanta are staging an uprising if I don't blog soon. I'm nothing if not a man of the people, so here you go. Let's see, since I last wrote, I turned three. It was a week-long celebration with a steady stream of parties, grandparents, and presents. We kicked things off three days before the big day when Granddaddy and Tena flew in to start celebrating. On Friday, I had a big party at school. Mommy brought in Thomas cupcakes for my entire class. It was so cool! It looked like one big cake, but it was really 12 cupcakes put together with Thomas, Percy, and James on top. Saturday morning was the big party! Matthew, Lauren, and Andrew came to my house for a Diego Rescue Adventure Party. We ate Chick-Fil-A nuggets, made animal visors, and went on an animal rescue adventure to find all kinds of animals who had gotten lost trying to make it to my birthday party! Once we finally rescued all of the camels, elephants, monkeys, and skunks that needed rescuing, we celebrated by decorating our very own train cakes. It was really cool. Then, on my actual birthday, we had a Lightning McQueen birthday cake! Really, it doesn't get much better than that.

Eating Lunch with Lauren

Making our Animal Visors

My best friend, Andrew, and the Train Cake Mommy Made

Blowing Out the Candles

The Train Cake I Made!

The Aftermath

I love presents

The Police Officer Costume Granddaddy Gave Me

(Mommy says I look like one of the Village People).