we've apparently lost our minds

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

This just happened.


I will now attempt to answer what I imagine your questions to be.

1.  Did you just give Jack a set of drums? 
     Yes.  You are very observant.
2.  Like, at your house?  
     Yes.
3.  Like, six weeks before Christmas?  
Um, yes.  We purchased them as a Christmas gift, initially.  However, the Davies family is genetically incapable of holding onto gifts for very long.  This ailment is apparently contagious, because it was Durel's idea to give the drums early.
4.  Aren't they loud?  
Yes, they are.  Particularly because four year old drummers don't have a lot of, shall we say, percussive nuance.  He just beats the shit out of those things.  Which means that yes, it is quite loud.
5.  DON'T YOU HAVE A BABY?  
Yes, we do.  We have the coolest baby on the planet, and the drums don't bother him.  Even when he's in bed.
6.  Oh, Jack's room is far away from Sawyer's room?  
No.  They share a wall.
7.  Have you lost your minds?  
Probably.
8.  What on earth are you thinking?
Drums are fun.  Childhood is far too fast, and you only get to do it once.

9.  Can your friends come over and play these drums?
Yes. You should bring wine.
10.  So, is it possible that you guys aren't crazy after all?
I knew I liked you.  Don't forget the wine.
Hope you carpe the hell out of that diem.

Talk soon,
Heather

Hang on, November.

Monday, November 17, 2014

I drank coffee yesterday from a Starbucks Red Cup.

It was 29 degrees in Austin this morning.  Count'em-- twenty-nine.  That's cold!

(Despite my past life as an East Coaster who did attend college in the very snowy state of Maine, I have acclimated to Texas pretty well.  Which means that I feel allowed to talk about how very cold it is, indeed, when the temperature starts with the number 2.)

I know what this means!  Christmas is coming!  

(Also, while I was preoccupied with being legitimately cold on my commute this morning, I realized that Thanksgiving is next week.  NEXT WEEK!  And that means my daydreams of stuffing recipes and perfect gravy are about to morph into a big shopping cart full of goodies at HEB.  Note to self:  Do not forget Cool Whip.  It doesn't matter how much you want to be Martha Stewart.  Everyone wants Cool Whip on their pumpkin pie.  End note.)

So, despite all of that, I have to share just two more pictures from Halloween.  I cannot, and will not, short-change Halloween.


First, we love Jack's teachers, Mr. Scott and Miss Hayley.  Second, we love their costumes.  Third, Jack's smile is pretty special in this particular snap.  Oh, sometimes I would love to be inside his little head to hear what's going on.  I think he was on joy overload here because he was both Darth Vader and having his picture taken with his teachers who he simply adores.


As for Sawyer, well.  The force is strong with this one, even when he is not dressed up as the world's cutest Jedi Master.

OK, October.  I'm good now.  November, I am now officially paying attention to you.  Time to make the gravy.

Hope you get all caught up with yourself today.

Talk soon,
Heather

compare and contrast

Friday, November 14, 2014

Jack at roughly eight months:

Yellow?  Blue? Which one?  I DON'T KNOW!

Sawyer at eight months:

L.  I.  V.  I.  N.
I will say this:  I think different personalities are emerging.  As well as different looks.

Hope your own observations entertain you today, too.

Talk soon,
Heather

eight months

Thursday, November 13, 2014



Sawyer has been here for 240 days.
(That doesn't sound like that long, does it?)

Sawyer is eight months old today.

Now that sounds impressive.

Sawyer is a happy and Zen baby.  He hardly ever cries.  He smiles and laughs easily.  He loves to watch people, especially Jack.  He likes to eat, especially bananas.  He likes to sleep (finally).  

He rolls around with tenacity and remarkable accuracy.  He pets Pablo and Lucy with surprising acuity.  He is *this close* to crawling.  He claps up a storm.

Jack has found a new side of himself as a doting big brother.  He wants to "have breakfast with Sawyer," as in, eat his Cheerios while I feed Sawyer his baby food in the morning.  He wants to cuddle with him on the couch while watching Blaze and the Monster Machines (new show on Nick Junior which should be avoided at all costs.  It's too late for me, but you can save yourselves...)  The first thing Jack does every morning is run into the nursery to see his little brother.

Durel and I marvel at our boys.  We are lucky.  We are grateful.  Our family is delightfully complete.

Sawyer with Uncle Fooshee during their recent, awesome visit.
If you're in or near New Orleans, check out the brilliant Inner Light Photography.
Hope you marvel at something today.

Talk soon,
Heather

carnivals and the paradox of fear

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Every summer on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, there is a Brigadoon known as the Cecil County Firefighter's Carnival.

Cecilton is forgettable, and that is kind.  But the carnival was always fun.  I give full props to the volunteer firefighters (many of whom I knew from my summer job at the marina, where they worked as mechanics or painters on yachts and sailboats).  They are a dedicated bunch, and they know how to throw a carnival.

I have a fuzzy memory of bright lights, funnel cakes, rides that make you *almost* puke, and the sweet freedom of a pocketful of tickets.

*     *      *     *     *     *     *

Going to a carnival as an adult is different.  

It's sort of like when they turn on the "ugly lights" in a bar at last call.  It looks a lot different than you thought, and not in a good way.

Durel and I learned this last weekend.  Luckily, we had enough Tums and Advil to get through it, and were able to enjoy Jack's view of the event, which is utterly carefree.

[I mean, it's just scary to think of all these rides being taken apart into transportable bits, nuts, bolts, and pieces and then reassembled, ridden, disassembled, transported, reassembled, and then ridden by you and your child, the most precious thing to you in the entire universe.  In retrospect, I prefer the firefighters and mechanics.]

[But you know what?  Everything is scary if you think about it wrong.  So, we got our bad selves in line and rode the rides because that's what you do.]

Jack and I rode the Ferris Wheel.

It's really pretty from up there!

Jack and Durel rode the roller coaster.

Raise'em like you just don't CAYAH

We did not take a camel ride, go inside the weird tent to see the "World's Smallest Horse," which the sign said in bizarre, Wizard of Oz style wording, was "Positively Alive!" or pay $12 for a turkey leg.

Sawyer maintained a Zen-like composure while watching us.  Wise baby, he is.

Hope you feel the fear and do it anyway today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

we've apparently lost our minds

This just happened.


I will now attempt to answer what I imagine your questions to be.

1.  Did you just give Jack a set of drums? 
     Yes.  You are very observant.
2.  Like, at your house?  
     Yes.
3.  Like, six weeks before Christmas?  
Um, yes.  We purchased them as a Christmas gift, initially.  However, the Davies family is genetically incapable of holding onto gifts for very long.  This ailment is apparently contagious, because it was Durel's idea to give the drums early.
4.  Aren't they loud?  
Yes, they are.  Particularly because four year old drummers don't have a lot of, shall we say, percussive nuance.  He just beats the shit out of those things.  Which means that yes, it is quite loud.
5.  DON'T YOU HAVE A BABY?  
Yes, we do.  We have the coolest baby on the planet, and the drums don't bother him.  Even when he's in bed.
6.  Oh, Jack's room is far away from Sawyer's room?  
No.  They share a wall.
7.  Have you lost your minds?  
Probably.
8.  What on earth are you thinking?
Drums are fun.  Childhood is far too fast, and you only get to do it once.

9.  Can your friends come over and play these drums?
Yes. You should bring wine.
10.  So, is it possible that you guys aren't crazy after all?
I knew I liked you.  Don't forget the wine.
Hope you carpe the hell out of that diem.

Talk soon,
Heather

Monday, November 17, 2014

Hang on, November.

I drank coffee yesterday from a Starbucks Red Cup.

It was 29 degrees in Austin this morning.  Count'em-- twenty-nine.  That's cold!

(Despite my past life as an East Coaster who did attend college in the very snowy state of Maine, I have acclimated to Texas pretty well.  Which means that I feel allowed to talk about how very cold it is, indeed, when the temperature starts with the number 2.)

I know what this means!  Christmas is coming!  

(Also, while I was preoccupied with being legitimately cold on my commute this morning, I realized that Thanksgiving is next week.  NEXT WEEK!  And that means my daydreams of stuffing recipes and perfect gravy are about to morph into a big shopping cart full of goodies at HEB.  Note to self:  Do not forget Cool Whip.  It doesn't matter how much you want to be Martha Stewart.  Everyone wants Cool Whip on their pumpkin pie.  End note.)

So, despite all of that, I have to share just two more pictures from Halloween.  I cannot, and will not, short-change Halloween.


First, we love Jack's teachers, Mr. Scott and Miss Hayley.  Second, we love their costumes.  Third, Jack's smile is pretty special in this particular snap.  Oh, sometimes I would love to be inside his little head to hear what's going on.  I think he was on joy overload here because he was both Darth Vader and having his picture taken with his teachers who he simply adores.


As for Sawyer, well.  The force is strong with this one, even when he is not dressed up as the world's cutest Jedi Master.

OK, October.  I'm good now.  November, I am now officially paying attention to you.  Time to make the gravy.

Hope you get all caught up with yourself today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Friday, November 14, 2014

compare and contrast

Jack at roughly eight months:

Yellow?  Blue? Which one?  I DON'T KNOW!

Sawyer at eight months:

L.  I.  V.  I.  N.
I will say this:  I think different personalities are emerging.  As well as different looks.

Hope your own observations entertain you today, too.

Talk soon,
Heather

Thursday, November 13, 2014

eight months



Sawyer has been here for 240 days.
(That doesn't sound like that long, does it?)

Sawyer is eight months old today.

Now that sounds impressive.

Sawyer is a happy and Zen baby.  He hardly ever cries.  He smiles and laughs easily.  He loves to watch people, especially Jack.  He likes to eat, especially bananas.  He likes to sleep (finally).  

He rolls around with tenacity and remarkable accuracy.  He pets Pablo and Lucy with surprising acuity.  He is *this close* to crawling.  He claps up a storm.

Jack has found a new side of himself as a doting big brother.  He wants to "have breakfast with Sawyer," as in, eat his Cheerios while I feed Sawyer his baby food in the morning.  He wants to cuddle with him on the couch while watching Blaze and the Monster Machines (new show on Nick Junior which should be avoided at all costs.  It's too late for me, but you can save yourselves...)  The first thing Jack does every morning is run into the nursery to see his little brother.

Durel and I marvel at our boys.  We are lucky.  We are grateful.  Our family is delightfully complete.

Sawyer with Uncle Fooshee during their recent, awesome visit.
If you're in or near New Orleans, check out the brilliant Inner Light Photography.
Hope you marvel at something today.

Talk soon,
Heather

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

carnivals and the paradox of fear

Every summer on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, there is a Brigadoon known as the Cecil County Firefighter's Carnival.

Cecilton is forgettable, and that is kind.  But the carnival was always fun.  I give full props to the volunteer firefighters (many of whom I knew from my summer job at the marina, where they worked as mechanics or painters on yachts and sailboats).  They are a dedicated bunch, and they know how to throw a carnival.

I have a fuzzy memory of bright lights, funnel cakes, rides that make you *almost* puke, and the sweet freedom of a pocketful of tickets.

*     *      *     *     *     *     *

Going to a carnival as an adult is different.  

It's sort of like when they turn on the "ugly lights" in a bar at last call.  It looks a lot different than you thought, and not in a good way.

Durel and I learned this last weekend.  Luckily, we had enough Tums and Advil to get through it, and were able to enjoy Jack's view of the event, which is utterly carefree.

[I mean, it's just scary to think of all these rides being taken apart into transportable bits, nuts, bolts, and pieces and then reassembled, ridden, disassembled, transported, reassembled, and then ridden by you and your child, the most precious thing to you in the entire universe.  In retrospect, I prefer the firefighters and mechanics.]

[But you know what?  Everything is scary if you think about it wrong.  So, we got our bad selves in line and rode the rides because that's what you do.]

Jack and I rode the Ferris Wheel.

It's really pretty from up there!

Jack and Durel rode the roller coaster.

Raise'em like you just don't CAYAH

We did not take a camel ride, go inside the weird tent to see the "World's Smallest Horse," which the sign said in bizarre, Wizard of Oz style wording, was "Positively Alive!" or pay $12 for a turkey leg.

Sawyer maintained a Zen-like composure while watching us.  Wise baby, he is.

Hope you feel the fear and do it anyway today.

Talk soon,
Heather
 
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