gift idea

My sweet Aunt Jan (Dad's sister) is crazy crafty and has never met a project she won't try. As a matter of fact, when she was here in October, she was weaving her own hammock. See what I mean?

Anyway, she has been making these adorable aprons for a while now and has developed a relatively lucrative business out of it. Each one is themed and some come with their own cooking tools. I'm not exactly sure the sizes, but the ones I've seen would fit your average 2-6 year old. I'm sure there are other sizes as well. You should check out her blog and scoop one up for your own kid or for your next gift-giving occasion.

love may

We got home from our annual Mothers' Day beach trip this past Sunday. Mom has three sisters, two in Alabama and one in California. Every Mothers' Day weekend for the last 20+ years, we have all gone to Orange Beach for a few days. Some trips have been as few as 10 people and some have been as many as 15 or more. The whole trip revolved around Mom's mother - Mimi. She was the bread crumbs in our meatloaf - she held us all together. When she died just over 2 1/2 years ago, the trip almost died with her. Thank goodness we all came to our senses and pressed on. There are many more years of MD beach trip ahead. I am crazy about Mom's family and wouldn't miss that trip for anything.

Waylon and I spent every waking moment at the pool. That kid loves to swim. Daddy joined us sometimes, though he's not much of a swimmer and thinks people who sit in the sun on purpose ought to be admitted. He sat on the side and dangled his toes in, mostly. I'd swim Waylon out to the middle of the pool and he'd crane his neck to watch his Daddy the whole time. When we'd turn to swim back to Daddy, Waylon would start laughing and splashing and kicking his chubby little legs. Somehow, Joey managed to shove his golf clubs in the car along with our 160 pounds of two dogs, pack-n-play, stroller, three clothes bags, one beach bag, one toy bag, a bag of food, diaper bag, car seat, one Mama, one Daddy and a partridge in a pear tree. Don't ask. It almost came between us, but I relented. He got away for a round, so it was worth it. (Though Brock and Stella would beg to differ as they were folded in half on top of one another, noses squished to the glass of the trunk door.)

All three of Mom's sisters made it down. Waylon had never met the Cali sister, P, and he loved her. She's crazy fun and has never met a stranger that didn't love her. P never had her own grandkids, but she would have been an amazing grandmother. She's an amazing aunt to me and will be an amazing great aunt to Waylon. We miss her for a whole year, until May rolls around. Then, we get her deep, raspy voice, her on-the-spot jingles, her wide-open laugh and her outrageous stories for a few days. And she's gone again.

Waylon had met Mom's oldest sister, Aunt Dinah, a couple of times before the beach trip. She has a couple of grandkids of her own and now has her very own great-grandkid. She's a wonderful Nana - very huggable. She has one of those faces that always smiles. One time, Waylon put one hand on each side of her smiley face and laid a big, wet kiss right on her chin. Our cousin Cooper did the same thing. Apparently she's very kissable, too. Aunt Dinah just lives about 15 minutes from us and I'm sad I don't see her more. I should make it a point to do so. She's worth the drive.

The baby sister, Gigi, is the gears behind this whole trip. She comes up with the plans, makes the calls, cooks, cleans, you name it. She says she is OCD. I think she's just super efficient. Gigi has five of her own grandkids now, and a sixth on the way. It's a good thing, too. Gigi was made to be a grandmother. I never got to see her in action until Waylon was born and her fourth was born two weeks later. This is her son's son, Cooper. Now, we get together whenever she's in town and Waylon and I just eat her up. She is the one that's rolling around on the floor with the boys, splashing in the pool, feeding them, changing them, always engaged, always grandmother-ing. Gigis are one in a million. We love her. Waylon adores her. She's the best peep-eyer he's ever seen.

And Lolly (Mom). This trip gives us the opportunity to kick back with each other and to remember Mimi - talk about her and cry about her. Mom is my best friend. We talk every day, at least once. I look up to her...and over to her. I love her more than a daughter ought to. I love her in a newer, bigger way now that I am a mother. She has always said that I am her heart, and now I understand. She adores Waylon. The feeling is mutual. He thinks she is happy and laughy and singy and wonderful. And she is.

This trip is priceless. It reminds me who I am and who my family is and why I love them and why they drive me nuts. We have decades more memories to make.

Until next May.

oh-choh

Eight. Waylon is eight months old. I am in denial. There is something about eight months that is way older than seven months (besides the 30-ish days that have passed.) Saying 'eight months old' sounds older than 'seven months old.' Try it. See? Oh, my heart. What will I do when he grows all the way up? Anyway, he is eight whole months old and he...

has met a sippy cup and can do without

feeds himself (see previous BLW post)

also feeds Stella

has four teeth

dances

drums

rolls and kicks his big ball (that he picked out from Target)

LOVES to swim (see previous 'fish baby' post)

is considering crawling - pushes up on arms, not onto knees

bled for the first time (he busted his little lip)

almost always has a scratch or bump somewhere

reaches to be held (mostly for ME! sometimes for Daddy)

still doesn't say 'ma-ma'

sleeps better in the car the louder the music is (prefers Enya or Ray L.)

crossed the state line for the first (into Florida)

stuck his toes in the sand - loved it

stuck his toes in the ocean - hated it

lost Charlie (his first little stuffed buddy), seeking replacement

has to warm up to new people and places (stranger danger)

screams. loud. just for fun.

is completely fascinated by big kids. wishes they were more fascinated with him.

loves to swing
humors me and wears hat, sunglasses and SPF a million anytime we go outside

This last month flew by. Maybe faster than any other. Every day with Waylon is better than the day before, which is a good thing, cause the day before is already gone. Without a doubt, the older he gets, the more fun he gets. He has the most adorable little personality. We laugh most of the time, but with his little personality is coming a little will. So, where there was little to no fussing or crying before, he is discovering that often fussing or crying will get him what he wants. (I know, I know. This is when we are supposed to start not reacting and not giving in. It's hard. We're trying.)

Waylon still sleeps through the night - usually 10 to 11 hours. He takes two naps a day with an optional third. He is a happier kid with three shorter naps rather than two longer naps. You know how he feels about naps. He nurses four times a day and eats three big-kid meals a day. He has yet to meet a food he doesn't like.

I don't know if it's because of the amount of time we spend together and how close we are all day long, but I've found that Waylon is more interactive than most babies around his age. I was asked the other day if he talks yet. I said yes. We can't understand him yet, but boy does he talk! And I am certain he understands us. Bottom line: he is brilliant and getting brilliant-er with age. It's probably my brilliance rubbing off.