One time, when Jack was like 2 1/2 or 3, he was sick.  He wouldn't eat anything and was getting all tired and little kid listless.  Which is the saddest kind of listlessness because it is hard, I tell you, hard, to keep a little kid down.

I had an idea.  Let's give him a MILKSHAKE.  

But then I had a thought.  He's 2 1/2.  If I tell him something is a "milkshake," he will not drink it.  Taken literally, that sounds gross.  Little kids can be surprisingly literal.

Hmm. 

So, I told him it was "ice cream juice."  He drank it.  He perked up.  I perked up.  He felt better and I felt brilliant.

That feels like a really long time ago.

*     *     *     *     *

Now, this kid is bringing his glider planes to show and tell.  His friends listen to him talk about how he made them, and then they go to the gym and fly them.

He's wearing his Capture the Flag shirt, and he knows what Capture the Flag is.

He's wearing plaid shorts because in a perfect world, he wears plaid shorts every single day.

He is five going on twenty.  Or eighty, what with the plaid shorts.  

He asks me at least once a week when he starts kindergarten.  He has informed me that things will be very different in kindergarten.

Don't I know it, kid.

Hope you can rock some plaid shorts today.

Talk soon,
Heather

going to target like it's your burfday

Sawyer turned one last week!  To celebrate, I took him to the doctor where he got his 12 month shots.  

He didn't think that was much of a celebration.  And I know it wasn't fun.  But we are Vaccinating People, so we got it done.

"Now you can go to Disneyland," my pediatrician said with a wry smile.  (I love her.)

To sweeten the deal, Sawyer stayed home with Mom for the rest of the day to nap, cuddle, and revel in the greatness of being one.

But first, we stopped at Target.  Where we got coffee and treats.  Obviously.

I'm eating a blueberry muffin.
You really believe in capturing the moment, dontcha?

Well then, HOW ABOUT THIS MOMENT?
Get in ma belleh!

Yessss.

I got a lot of things that I needed at Target, which is different than getting a lot of things I don't need at Target.  I used to do that a lot.  It's a self-professed bad habit I am actively trying to break.

I also didn't succumb to the siren song of the Dollar Spot or whatever the hell it's called.  Call me victorious.

And I had the cutest Starbucks and Target buddy a girl could ask for.

Hope someone buys you a treat today.

Talk soon,
Heather

the one with things on our heads

There is an oddball Davies family tradition of putting your beer on your head when someone wants to take your picture.  (And you happen to have a beer.)

I recently told someone that I am pretty normal.  Shortly thereafter, I took it back.  I am not normal, nor do I wish to be.

Anyway, the best beer on head picture is of my sisters and I at Southside 815 in Alexandria, Virginia. We are all grinning like fools and holding our beers on our heads.

It was New Years Eve.  I don't remember the year, but I *think* I was underage.  (Go, me!  I mean ... Well, I'm not running for President.  So yeah.  Go, me!)  

Anyway, our dear friend and honorary sister, Beth G., wanted to take a picture of us.  We're not all together that often.  

We all put our beers on our heads.  No discussion.  No plan.  No good reason, in fact.  

In my book, you don't need a reason to put something on your head.  

I'll post the picture when I find it.  

*     *     *     *     *

Sawyer got the memo about putting things on your head.  He's far too young for beer, but he's happy to improvise.

Hope you aren't normal today.

Talk soon,

Heather

mustaches and meaningful looks

Jack's first birthday party had booze.

He stuck to the soft stuff, of course.  As did his one year old buddies.  

We raised our glasses to celebrating one full year of parenthood.  We had sprinted through 365 days of raising a small human who liked to cry, poop, and disrespect our youthful tendencies to stay up late.  

We looked at each other with surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  We did it!

Please note that we NAILED the stripe trend AND the mustache trend.  In 2011.

Jack's fifth birthday party had icy roads.

True to form for this freaky winter, the roads were icy the morning of Jack's party.  As the sun rose, people were careening around the highways as if it was good for them.

We soldiered on. 

We had some of Jack's best buddies, pizza, cupcakes, and glow in the dark putt-putt.  Yes, it really was glow in the dark, and it was actually really cool.

I wore Sawyer while bringing up the rear of the putt-putt parade and whispered little gratitudes that he wasn't freaking out about missing nap.

No booze.

Durel and I didn't have time to look at each other and marvel in the majesty of our parenthood accomplishment.   Five years!  Instead, we multi-tasked in that way that two hands-on parents with a near telepathic connection do.  We partied.  We parented.  

It was, as Jack put it, "incredible!"

My guess is that, if we had exchanged a meaningful glance, it still would have been one of surprise, joy, respect, and fatigue.  Five years!  We are still doing it!

And yes, it is incredible.  And scary and fun and inspiring and tiring and...beyond what we could have imagined.

Hope you find yourself at a loss for words today.

Talk soon,
Heather

rescued by a hipster

We didn't mean to give up on Jack's hair.

We were just sort of out of ideas.

You see, Jack didn't really have any hair until he was close to 2 years old.  When he did start to grow some lovely locks, they defied our best attempts at styling.

We would let it grow.  We would comb it to the side.  Nanoseconds later, all the hair had come to a neat little point on Jack's forehead.  

We tried pomade.  I am inept with pomade.  

We cut it short.  That was OK.  But not, like, amazing.  Like Jack is.  It just wasn't the hair he deserved.

Here is a summary of our hair challenges from the past 2 years.

We had taken him to the place where you sit in a car and get your hair cut.  We didn't really like that place.  It was expensive and it smelled weird.

We took him to the cheap place.  You get what you pay for.

We took him to the "not as cheap also sports themed" place.  They're sort of (really) rude there.

Sooooo, for lack of a better idea, Durel took Jack to the barber where he goes.  It's a retro hipster man barber.  You know.

EUREKA.

Jack now has the hair he deserves.  We were saved by our hipster barber, suspenders and all.

Hope you feel ridiculously good looking today.

Talk soon,
Heather