he must have been really tired...

cause he was fast asleep in a puddle of his own puke.

OK, so I am really glad I check on my son so often after he's gone to bed. This evening I went into his room, leaned down to give him a kiss on his cheek, and saw what I thought was a milk mustache, but it certainly didn't smell like milk. After a little more smelling and feeling around I could tell that there was quite a large amount of puke, and Rowan was totally sawing logs! Even when I wiped his mouth, which he normally hates, he kept snoozing! Well, there was no way I could let him sleep like that, so I woke the poor kid up. As I brought him out into the well lit living room I was able to see just what I was dealing with. LOTS OF PUKE. It covered the front of his shirt, was matted in his hair, smeared on his face, and the two blankets he was sleeping on were totally soaked. Rowan was kind enough to pose for this picture (I told you he wakes up happy - even if he is covered in vomit) and then it was off to the tub. Sadly he was not so thrilled to go back to bed after he got cleaned up. He was screaming his head off and Jon says, "YOUR son is ticked off." Why is it when children are ticked they all of a sudden become solely the mother's child?

Everytime I look...

I smile and laugh. I think you will too.

This one kills me. I didn't realize I was so funny.

Look at the chubs! I LOVE it.

I know I have been posting nothing but Rowan lately, something my mom will surely appreciate, but I can't help it. He's my life. And look at the kid, how could you resist this chubbiness? I am telling you I get wrapped more around his finger with each new roll. I am hopelessly in love.

sneak a peak

The sweetest sight.

I can't tell you how many times I tip toe into Rowan's room after he's fallen asleep. I love to just look at him, to gently kiss his cheeks, to caress his head, and to whisper "I love you" in his ear. Often times I just stand there and think, "I can't believe this beautiful boy is my son."

Such an amazing gift and blessing from my Father in Heaven.

oh Jon

I love you.

I do. I really do.
And it is not because your birthday suit seems to be your choice of clothing these days,
but you should probably stop walking around the living room when the blinds are open, or you'll become the naked neighbor, like the one on Friends.

dear mommy

my beautiful mommy (right)

thank you.
thank you for cleaning all my dirty diapers.
thank you for having me 13 months after having my brother.
thank you for your hard work.
thank you for your example.
thank you for your faith.
thank you for your support.
thank you for putting up with me when I was a teenager.
thank you for letting me make mistakes.
thank you for your humor.
thank you for your love.
thank you for visiting after I had Rowan.
thank you for being my mom.
I love you.

I told you I was impulsive right?

I got annoyed with my hair Monday.
REALLY annoyed.

So, by the end of the day it looked like this.
I do these sorts of things from time to time.

what do you do when...

your baby is puking EVERYWHERE?
Me?
Oh, I get a camera.

The moat of milk

Rowan has been sick. A nasty cold has had him under the weather since Thursday of last week. You know when you cough so hard you puke? Rowan had his first experience of that today. I had fed him a bottle only moments prior to the coughing vomit episode. I am just thankful I hadn't fed him his solids for the day. Prunes and sweet potatoes would have been really bad the 2 time round, considering they're not pretty the 1st time round. And yes, even after spending a good amount of time cleaning barf from every nook and cranny of his exersaucer, I am still delighted to be a mommy.

a whole lot of randomness

This picture is our ode to Chef Ramsey. OK, really it is just the end result of what happens when I ask daddy to get baby ready for bed. I did find my lil' baker quite darling, but I am not so sure Rowan is thrilled about it. What do you think?.

I have a lot of things going on in my head, and I am afraid that if I don't hurry up and write about them I will forget them. Sort of like last nights dinner that was in the oven. Hope you like well done.

I don't have speakers for my computer. How is it that Jon ended up with the new monitor and the speakers? Needless to say we listen to Jon's music much too often, so when he popped into the shower I took advantage of the time and switched off Erasure and turned on Celine Dion. I don't listen to her a lot. I mean, I like her, but for some reason I thought of one specific song of hers that night and wanted to hear it. And I would much rather listen to her "I love you, goodbye," then sit through Erasure's "Waiting for sex," again. Yes, they seriously have a song by that title and Jon has an obsessive personality which makes him listen to certain songs again and again. And "Waiting for sex" was the song of choice on this particular night. Hmmm, I wonder if he was trying to tell me something. OK, so Jon comes out of the bathroom, naked mind you because he had just showered, and upon hearing my "cheesy" Celine Dion music he starts to do some cheesy slow dance - naked. It was his way of making fun of my music without verbally saying, "What is this cheesy garbage you are listening to?" For those of you who do not know Jon, he takes his music very seriously. He is EXTREMELY picky when it comes to what he listens to, so Celine Dion is just short of torture for him - country is torture. BUT, surprisingly, upon finishing his naked cheesy dance he came over to me wrapped his arms around my shoulders and said, "Your music makes you happy huh?" "Yes naked husband it does." I said. "Well, then I should let you listen to it more cause it makes you happy." Said naked husband. Then he crawled into bed, after clothing himself, and not two seconds later said, "HEADPHONES! HEADPHONES!" So, while he was being sweet it seems he still doesn't have the stomach, or ears in this case, for Celine Dion. Non the less, I had a lovely evening listening to all the songs I had not heard in a while on the headphones. And Jon waited for sex.

**don't think Jon is a perv. The song really isn't that bad. The line is used once, and come on, it's Erasure. What did you expect?

I have more randomness, but this story ended up being longer then I thought it was. Things always seem shorter in your head. Trust me, I have more where this came from. I do apologize if this post was too candid and or crass for some of my readers, but this is my life, and while blogs can serve many purposes, the purpose of my blog is to capture my life - my real life. Doesn't get anymore real then this.

thinking (Part I)

I've been thinking a lot lately, thanks to NieNie.

I've been thinking I should be more grateful...
for my health & the health of those I love.
for being able bodied.
for the small things I take for granted.
for the opportunity I have to serve my family & friends.
for my flawed body.
for being able to pray to a loving Heavenly Father.
for my blessed life.

definition

ADDICTION: The condition of being habitually or compulsively occupied with or or involved in something.

EXAMPLE (S)

my addiction: taking pictures of my son, in the same spot, on the same day, over, and over again. I couldn't help myself. He is irresistibly cute.

ding! ding! ding!

we have a winner!

PRUNES. The kid likes prunes, who'd a thought?
I'm happy and excited we have found a food he's willing & eager to swallow, but I'm a little nervous about tomorrow's diaper...

Morning, from Arizona

a peek inside mornings at our home.

Rowan wakes up at 8 am without fail.

Works well for Jon, having his own personal alarm in the form of a 16+ pound baby.

I'm first out of bed. I cross the hall to Rowan's room. There he is, happy as can be. I smother him in kisses and he squeals in delight. I grab the morning necessities: diaper, clothes, blanket, and the two of us head to the living room, where I turn on Baby Einstein. He watches the show as I change his diaper and clothes. Then I make his bottle, give it to him, and then I crawl back into bed- I can get in an additional 30 minutes worth of z's while he watches TV.

We shook things up this morning though.

I actually did not crawl back into bed after Rowan was content with his bottle and show. I made myself some waffles and topped them with yummy strawberries. Then we went on a morning walk.

It was nice getting out of the house before 10 am.

I opened the door and was greeted with a beautiful day. Birds were chirping, dogs were barking, and the wind was blowing just enough. We made our way to the park just down the street. We circled the pond. Pigeons scattered as I neared them with the stroller. People sat at tables eating breakfast and chatting. The tennis courts were full of players casually hitting the ball back and forth. Rowan slept and I enjoyed the morning stroll through our neighborhood. I should really do it more often, it's just that darn bed is so good at beckoning me back to it's cool sheets and fluffy pillows.

We'll see who wins my affections tomorrow.

The big scare

I have never been so frightened of 2 inches of plastic.

I was sitting at the computer.
I knew my 3 minutes were up.
I was frozen to my chair with fear.
I forced myself to go into the bathroom.
Where a pregnancy test awaited me.
I have never been so relieved to see one line.
NEGATIVE.

Don't think I am evil for being happy that my uterus is baby free. I want more children, really, I do. I am just not ready for number 2 when number 1 is only 4 1/2 months old.

Do you know what torture is?

Let me tell you what torture is.

Torture is not being able to kiss the adorable chubby cheeks of your little boy due to a mouth covered in cold sores.

Torture is not being able partake in a passionate kiss with one's husband on Valentine's Day due to mouth herpes.

This is torture.

Home Sweet Home

I am back from vacation.
I get cold sores when I get stressed.

THIS is what I look like right now.

Did I just say vacation, stress, and cold sores?
2 of the 3 words do not belong.
Strange.

I'll post pictures when I stop being a baby about my ugly cold sores and how badly they hurt right now. For those of you who do not get them feel very lucky. They are hideous and painful.

I heart cupcake

but I hate fat.

this was my breakfast.

(Dialogue between me & Jon last night)

H: I need a really good prize to motivate me to lose 20 pounds.
J: Like what?
H: Oh, a flat screen monitor, a TV armoire, a headboard, table and chairs from Ikea, Wii, or a laptop (chuckle chuckle)
J: What table and chairs from Ikea?
H: I don't know yet. A long table though. With some mismatched chairs I think.
J: OK, how about if you lose 20 pounds you can pick from a Wii, flat screen monitor, or $250 to Ikea.
H: I don't know about the Wii. Cause you want that too. So that serves you as well as me, and we would probably get one eventually anyways.
J: I'll throw in Mario Cart.
H: (no comment)
J: So when are you going to start?
H: I don't know.
J: Well, what are you doing tonight?
H: I am going to make some cupcakes.

I have a weakness for frosting. I will let you all know how it goes. If it goes.

Rowan on Red & a Random Story

Jon took some pictures of Rowan on our "new" couch.

I love them.

I love him.
This is bound to be one of my all time favorite pictures of the little man.

And in other news I have a story to share.

The other night I was on the computer. The hubs was showering. After some time passed, I soon realized that the shower was no longer on. The hubs had still not come out of the bathroom, and a faint chlorine smell was beginning to hit my nostrils. I was curious. I headed to the bathroom, where I may have found someone in their birthday suit scrubbing my bathtub on their hands and knees. And someone may have slapped this person's birthday suit bottom and said, "Now that is what I like to see!"

Too much info? Hey, this is a real life blog. I don't lie.

(Clearly, you can see why I chose to go with a picture of Rowan for this post. Birthday suits are for my eyes only. But, I promise you, my tub is sparkling.)

Bang up job

What was I thinking?

I hate bangs.

Wait.

Let me clarify. I hate GROWING OUT bangs. The last time I had bangs and decided to grow them out, I was in the ninth grade. I think I vowed then to never again cut bangs. There always comes a day when you no longer want bangs. Then begins the long annoying process of growing the blasted things out. So for the second time (and hopefully last) in my life, I am in a hair slump because of the perma visors draped over my face. Sure, there are options and ways to get them out of your face, but I feel none of them are really working for me at this point in time. I am hating this so much, I want to cut all my hair off so I don't have to deal with it. If I did that, I am sure another post would soon follow which complained about my boy haircut, how much I hate it, and how crappy it is to grow out short hair- crappier than growing out bangs. So it seems my only option is to wait it out. However, if any of you know of some cute styles I could pull off with my current hair state, I am taking suggestions...

My Simply Perfect

Friday Night.

I posted this picture for two reasons. 1.) Jon looks hot. Way hot. 2.) I have some blond streaks- which I am debating to do again. A step on my journey back to being a full blown blond.

The baby was down by 8 pm. Maybe the shots earlier in the day wore him out. Jon ran to the grocery store at 10ish so the two of us could enjoy a quiet evening of treats and a movie. My only request before he left was that he get me caffeine, and not generic caffeine. And since I wasn't craving any specific treat I told him to get one chocolate and one fruity. He was out the door and two phone calls later, one to say that his debit card was broken and the Redbox wouldn't swipe it right (no movie for us) and one to ask if we needed milk, he was on his way home. I heard a bang at the door so I rushed to open it assuming he had two handfuls of groceries. Can you really consider pop, candy, chips & salsa groceries? Oh yes, and the 3 gallons of water- I think that qualifies as groceries. I quickly grabbed two of the gallons out of his hands. I had barely freed him of them when he said, "Nice jugs."

We made our way to the kitchen with our groceries where I began to examine what he got. Chips & salsa- good. Generic gummy worms- good (you can go generic with gummy worms) crunch candy bar- random. Not my first choice, but edible & of course I will eat it. Whoppers- very good (little does he know that I bought myself a box last night when I ran to the grocery store to get lunch meat & slowly ate them all throughout the day today) Last but not least, one glorious liter of Pepsi. It is chilling in the freezer. I really think I am becoming addicted and I think I know (to a small degree) what drug users must go through.

After I unloaded the bags we embraced and danced around in a circle while we stood in the dark kitchen. Spontaneous dancing, try it sometime, very romantic. No kissing could follow on the account of the cold sore on my lip that I am doctoring. Talk about a mood killer. I busted into the gummy worms, Jon the chips, and now I sit in here typing away. I can hear a chuckle from Jon every now and then coming from the living room- he is watching King of Queens. Darling.

I just fed the baby a bottle and thought to myself that some nights seem so long (then again he did fall asleep at 8 pm tonight - normally it is 10pm) that I have to be away from my little bundle of joy. I wanted to scoop him up in my arms and nibble on his cheeks. But I couldn't do it on account of his little snore- a sure sign that he is far away in wonderland. Oh that morning embrace will be sweet. He'll stretch as I pick him up, curl his legs up into his chest, and fart on my hand as I place a palm on his bottom. Could a mother ask for more? I say no.

I don't think I could ask for a simpler Friday night, but a perfect Friday night in my personal opinion.

Some wax, some dye

I shave.

Some of you seemed to really enjoy my "morning glory" pictures. If you liked those then I imagine you will appreciate this as well. From time to time I have to shave my mustache. I really only started doing this within the past few years. I was driving in the car and looked in the rear view mirror. You know when the lighting is just right and you can see every flaw on your face? Well, that is what happened to me, but in this case I saw a mustache. I was so embarrassed because right at that moment it was like HELLO HEATHER YOU HAVE A MUSTACHE! I was on my way to work and didn't have time to run back home and shave the sucker off. I was paranoid my entire shift that all people saw when they were talking to me was my mustache. And oh my goodness, what in the world would Jon think? Had he seen my mustache (which by the way was probably hairier then anything he could ever grow) and just hadn't said anything? From that day on I have shaved the hairy caterpillar off my face. It's not like I have to do it on a daily basis. I am not Sasquatch people, I don't get 5 o'clock shadow, but every now and then there are some dark brown stubs that need to go. Now Jon and I joke about it. He'll say to me, "Heather WE need to shave." And then, there we are, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, shaving cream on our upper lips, with razors in hand. Now that is a picture to see.