Before the snow...

Oh, right...before Atlanta became a hotbed (er, coldbed?) of winter activity, we actually managed to make it out of the house from time to time to actually do things that didn't involve fighting against the horror that is the devil's dandruff (or, you know, snow, in case that wasn't clear).

These things included, but were not limited to:

1) BABY'S FIRST PEDICURE!!! I have maybe been planning this trip since they first told me, almost five years ago, that my firstborn was going to be a girl. It was every bit as much fun as I though it would be.

(She chose pink nail polish, of course. Because, as she tells me every time she picks out a new toy or an article of clothing or a piece of candy, pink is her favorite color. I always pretend to be shocked when she tells me this, just for my own amusement, and she now thinks her mother has the absolute worse memory in the world...)

2) EAT FROZEN YOGURT AFTER BABY'S FIRST PEDICURE!!! Just because it wasn't snowing doesn't mean it wasn't still cold outside (Atlanta, you are on notice. This cold weather crap you keep pulling on me is BS...), so we had to dress appropriately for our frozen yogurt run. 

Just because you have to wear mittens while you eat your ice cream doesn't mean that ice cream isn't still delicious, ok? Of course, as this is the kid that mixes sour gummy candies in with her chocolate yogurt, delicious is a relative term here, but still...

One of these days, maybe we'll get to leave the house again.

Baby's First Ponytail

I don't care what you say, I think this is one of the cutest milestones, ever. So there.

(You'd never actually guess that underneath that sweet face and little blond head, she's planning the best way to somersault off of the couch and take down an entire rack of books with her, would you? And yet...I'd stake my fortune on her planning just exactly that at any moment of the day...)

Caitlin's Baptism

Shortly after Caitlin was born last November, we began discussing the details around her baptism. We knew we wanted to ask Steve's brother to be the godfather and my youngest sister to be the godmother (Steve's sister and my middle sister are Brigid's godparents), but we were hung up on the date. Since we'd already decided that we would be taking the girls up with us to Notre Dame this year, Steve had all of these grand thoughts around waiting until we made that trip, so we could have Caitlin baptized in the Log Cabin Chapel on campus. I, however, argued that there was no WAY we could wait that long to make the baptism happen.

Fast forward nine months, and when we went to Notre Dame last weekend? We took our unbaptized little sweetheart along with us for the ride.

I swear, I had every intention of having Caitlin baptized as a newborn. I honestly have no idea what happened, or how we made it to this point without having done so already. Of course, I still refuse to believe that my baby is three quarters of the way to her first birthday, too, so maybe the fact that time is just slipping away from me in huge chunks really isn't that hard to believe.

Finally, FINALLY, however, we did it this past weekend, at the Saturday evening Mass. The priest officiating this Mass was the same one that used to be a part of Steve's childhood parish and was present at his First Communion, so that was a nice touch (and also a very Sunrise, Sunset kind of moment, I think...). He informed Steve before the event that he 'uses a lot of water, so bring a towel', and he wasn't lying. He basically used a plastic bucket to pour the holy water all over Caitlin, and while I appreciated the enthusiasm, I think my poor child would have preferred a slightly more low-key event.

But then again, she also farted her way through the ceremony, so I think maybe the importance of the event, in general, was lost on her.

And then Brigid spent the the last few days telling everyone that we had cake at our house, because we had Baby Caitlin 'appetized' this weekend, so my kids are pretty much the best, ever.

Nine Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

Oh, my sweet baby just continues to grow up, despite my best efforts to stop her from doing so. Today she went in for her nine month check-up (where she got NO shots. I specifically scheduled the appointment for Steve's day with the girls, so that he would take the brunt of the shot association, and then she didn't even get any. I've been informed Brigid is scheduled for FIVE shots at her 4-yr appointment, at which point they want us to bring Caitlin in, too, for flu shot purposes, and I just KNOW I'm going to end up with that appointment. My children are going to hate me.), and she just keeps getting bigger. It's not fair, really.

At some point, I'm probably going to need to stop comparing my kids, because, I don't know, kids want to be their own people or some such nonsense, but I'm just so fascinated by how differently my children are developing. It's just fun to compare the stats, really...

Nine months stats, Caitlin:

Length: 28.5 inches (78th percentile)

(Six months - 26/67th)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 19lbs 3oz (54th percentile)

(Six months - 16lbs 6oz/59th)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Six months stats, Brigid:

Length: 27.5 inches (50th percentile)

(Six months - 26.25/75th)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 20lbs 14oz (almost 80th percentile)

(Six months - 17lbs 9oz/85th)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

(Also, I should probably mention the fact that Brigid was in the 85th percentile in head circumference, while Caitlin is in the 86th percentile. Those ladies have some large heads on them. Large heads, for large brains, of course.)

The Progression of a Photo Shoot (Again)

Don't all little kids want to get their pictures taken? Don't they want to strike a cute pose, and smile sweetly, and record their general cuteness for all of posterity?

No. No, they do not. In fact, not only do they NOT want you to get adorable pictures of them at every milestone moment in their life, they want to make sure you are recording what rotten little stinkers they are, instead.

Case in point, Brigid's first day back to school (please note the truly terrible ponytail we sent her off to school with on this particular day, as the child refuses to let me put barrettes anywhere near her head, and those wispies won't control themselves...):

Brigid, let me take a picture of you on your first day of school!

Come on, kiddo, give me a good smile!

Nope, that's not it. It's cute, but not quite what I was going for...

Are you...trying to flip me the bird? Just give me one smile, and I'll leave you alone.

Ok, that works.

Happy first day back to school, kid!

Baby's First Visit to Notre Dame

When I was a student at Notre Dame, the Thursdays and Fridays right before a home football game were some of my favorite days of the years. There was a running joke around campus that Notre Dame was like 'Disney World for Catholics', and the crowds that came to visit the place for home football weekends was always an amazing sight to see. Those days, when it took me twice as long to walk home from class because I had to dodge a steady stream of alumni, all so eager to share just a taste of their experiences at the university with the families they had towed along for the weekend, made me feel such pride in my own little place among the years of tradition, I couldn't have imagined choosing to go anywhere else for school. And I couldn't wait to share that feeling with kids of my own.

Last weekend, Steve and I finally got that chance.

And I learned that no matter how hard I've tried to fight it, I haven't been able to avoid becoming one of those 'Well, back in MY day...' kind of people. Also? I've decided I want to go back to school now that there is a Starbucks and a Subway in the student center. WHERE WERE THESE THINGS TWELVE YEARS AGO, HMMMMMM?

As much as things have changed around campus, so many things were still the same. Sure, there were main roads through campus completely erased, new buildings everywhere, a cute little eating and shopping center added right across the street, and the previously mentioned Subway and Starbucks (I will never stop being bitter about this), but the men of Knott Hall still wear those obnoxious orange beanies in 90 degree weather, and the guys' dorms still make their freshmen run through various crowded locations in nothing more than a Speedo, and LaFun still has a little ice cream shop in the back corner of the convenience store, and students everywhere still make their way around campus wearing all things branded with the Notre Dame logo. 

The fight song is still the greatest fight song of all time, and the alma mater can still bring a tear to my eye, and I'm so glad I got to share all of these things with my girls. 

Of course, I also learned that almost-four-year-olds aren't really so much into the sitting through a four hour football game, so I probably won't be sharing these things with my girls again until they're old enough to not need me to spend the entire third quarter of the game running up and down the stadium ramp or to not need my mother to spend the entire fourth quarter making up stories purely for their entertainment, but still...

Things we did this weekend: 

Friday - shopped at the bookstore, listened to the trumpets playing the fight song under the Dome, watched/listened to the Marching Band step off from the Main Building, lit a candle at the grotto, had our diaper changed and danced naked on top of the tables of the student center (that one was Caitlin specific, thank goodness), went to the pep rally on South Quad.

Saturday - tailgated, ate all of the food, napped naked in the car (Caitlin, again, as I've learned my lesson on that in the past...), survived a brief rain shower, taught Brigid to yell 'Stand up, you pansy' at a QB who does not seem to understand that sometimes you are going to get hit while playing football, sang the alma mater after the game was over.

Sunday - went to mass at the Basilica, for the first time since Steve and I were married there.

Things we did NOT do this weekend:

Get a large soda at the stadium, which means we missed out on our very own collection item of poor proof reading, the 'FIGTHING IRISH' souvenir cup. (Go ahead, look at it again if you need to. If the entire foodservice marketing department missed the mistake, you might need to take a second look to pick it up, too...)

We missed perfection by that much, I guess.

Caitlin's Update

Despite Caitlin's best efforts at remaining lazy, she has, in fact, learned to sit up on her own, if 'sitting up on her own' is defined as me setting her on the ground, in an upright position, and her holding herself up for longer than 30 seconds at a time. Because she can do that.

But if I don't force the issue? Nope. Nothing. She will lie on the ground and screech until someone comes to entertain her. She will NOT be responsible for pulling herself up into that position on her own, thank you very much.

(And just in case you think I'm complaining about this...no. You just stay there and be immobile as long as you want, Baby Caitlin. We are FINE with that decision. One kid constantly on the move is more than enough for me to handle right now.)

Oh, and in other 'my baby is growing up so fast!' news, we have teeth. Two of them, to be exact. Two of them that showed up at almost exactly the same time, with one breaking through on Sunday and the other coming in on Monday. Two cute little bottom front teeth, that you can see perfectly clearly when she is screaming about something, not that she EVER screams about anything, of course.

(Yes, she does. She's kind of a wimp, actually. She screams about a lot of things.)

Two teeth, that I'm blaming for the worst weekend of sleep that we've had since Caitlin's first month in this world, because...the screaming. The screaming while she was still too tired to open her eyes. And the only being happy when she was being held. At midnight and 3am. It was less than pleasant, truly.

It's been better, though, the last few nights, which I'm kind of hesitant to even mention, because the sleep karma gods will smite me with another weekend like last weekend, and you  know what? Never mind. Just forget I said anything, ok?

And so, in conclusion: Caitlin sits up if I sit her up, she has two teeth, and her sleep habits are not to be a topic of discussion. Ever. The end.

Baby's First Baseball Game

Every new event deserves new clothes, right?

(That hat stayed on long enough for me to snap the picture, under the threat of turning off Disney Jr for the rest of the afternoon, then came right back off. We'll see if Steve can convince her to wear it all evening or not...)

(Also, the joke was on Brigid, because I had a 3-4pm conference call to take from home, so there was NO WAY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH that Disney Jr was going to disappear from our television set this afternoon. My mom lies are excellent.)

The first step to mobility...

When I took Caitlin in for her four month check-up, the pediatrician informed me that 'as soon as she decides she's ready to roll over, she'll start rolling over'.

So, you know. Helpful advice from our trained professional, right there.

I love our pediatrician. I do. I just...what does that even mean? Because, honestly? I'm not sure 'want' had a whole lot to do with last week's crossing of the milestone that led to my loves-to-be-swaddled baby no longer being swaddled at night due to the fact that I found her facedown and ANGRY in bed on Friday morning.
And don't let these pictures fool you...
This kid was not any happier spending time on her stomach when she got herself there in the first place than she's ever been when I've been the reason she's spending time on her stomach. And yet, every time I told her it was all her fault she had to hold her own head up for any significant period of time, she gave me the angry face.

She's just lucky her angry face is so cute.

Baby's First Cereal

At Caitlin's four month check-up on Monday, the doctor told us we could go ahead and start her on rice cereal if we thought she might be ready to make the move to solid foods. When Brigid was four months old, it was beyond obvious that she was ready, because she was eating her weight in formula on a daily basis. But Caitlin? She just hasn't had the same appetite as her sister. So, we kind of pushed that recommendation to the side at the time...

(Of course, we mainly put it to the side because we kept forgetting to go out and buy some rice cereal for the poor kid, but also, she just didn't seem to need it, ok? That's the story I'm going to go with here.)

Fast forward to a measly THREE DAYS LATER when Caitlin just couldn't get her fill of formula. She was up last night at 11:15pm, 4am, and 7am, which...doesn't seem like a big deal, does it? It's not, really. But when she's been known to sleep from 8:30pm-6am on a good night? AND it takes her an hour (minimum) to go back to sleep? AND I have to get up and go to work on a stretch of four hours of sleep?

Well, then it becomes just a slightly bigger deal.

(I know. You hate me. I've lucked into a good baby who sleeps for longer than two hours at a time, and I should just quit complaining. I'm sorry. I KNOW.)

Then after a morning when no amount of bottle feeding was going to make Princess Cait a happy baby, Steve decided to give the cereal a shot.

Caitlin had...mixed...emotions.

Steve facetimed me at work, so I could see how Baby's First Cereal went down, and I couldn't resist grabbing a couple of screen shots, because 1) LOOK HOW SWEET AND CUTE!!! and 2) I am a terrible parent who laughs at the unhappy faces of her children.

 

Poor, poor, poor Caitlin.

(She recovered nicely, I promise...)

Prima Ballerina

Admittedly, all of my knowledge around how a ballet company is run comes from the movie Center Stage, and that's maybe not the most realistic representation of how things work. But then again, it may be exactly how things work. And if it's the reality?
Then Brigid is going to be the one ballerina all of the other ballerinas hate, because she will have been part of the Company's system for a million and a half years. SHE WILL HAVE THE INSIDE TRACK TO BEING THE PRINCIPAL DANCER OF THE AMERICAN BALLET COMPANY!*

*ahem*

I mean...the Atlanta Ballet Company, of course. The American Ballet Company is fictitious, and Peter Gallagher is not the company director, and I am not obsessed, and I should probably stop watching so many movies...

Look! Over there! Cute baby in a leotard!
*Of course, all of Brigid's future success as a ballerina hinges on the hope that she doesn't take after Steve and I in matters of grace AT ALL, because if she does? Poor kid is screwed...

Eight Years Ago...

Eight years ago, we were a couple of silly twenty-four year olds, spending the weekend in South Bend, Indiana, who got up at 6AM for an 11AM wedding, spent the early afternoon at our lunchtime reception, hit up a couple of hotel hospitality suites where our parents were hosting family members in the evening, THEN went to a bar with all of our friends who'd made the trip from various parts of the country until 2AM.

Now, we're a couple of exhausted thirty-two year old parents who consider it a moral victory if we're not asleep on the couch at 9PM on a Friday night.

 

Honestly? I think I like us better this way. Most of the time, anyway...

 

Happy anniversary, Steve! I love you, and I can't wait to see how early we're falling asleep in the next eight years!

 

(Oh, and don't forget...in two more years I'm dragging you to Vegas to renew our vows. Start working on that sleep thing now...)

Three Years

When I wrote, last year, about Brigid turning two, I was told that I would just absolutely love the year ahead of me, because two was really an amazing age.

And wouldn't you know it? It was, and I did.

I went from being concerned that Brigid would NEVER EVER IN HER ENTIRE LIFE WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?!?! learn to talk, to wondering just what I needed to do to make her stop talking for one minute. Just one, that's all I need.

I still haven't figured it out, so if you have the answers, please, help a lady out, ok? Also, do you know the answer to the question why? Because I don't, anymore, and it's really something I need to learn.

I know all of the jokes about the Terrible Twos, but honestly, I didn't experience that, at all. Yes, she can be trying when she won't stop asking why we're doing something over and over (and over and over and over and over) again. Yes, she needs to learn that 'I want to watch my tv, RIGHT NOW' is maybe not the best way to get mommy and daddy to agree to letting her watch ANOTHER episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse or Doc McStuffins instead of the football game that we're trying to watch instead. Yes, I'd appreciate it if she'd stop chucking hairbrushes at my head every night, when it comes time to brush her hair after her bath.

 

And yes, I really, REALLY wish that she'd stop crying for her daddy every single time I tell her she needs to do something that she doesn't want to do.

But I also wouldn't give up those moments of unsolicited 'I love you, mom-mom' declarations, or having her offer up a hug and kiss for no reason, or hearing her tell me, 'You have on a pretty dress/skirt/necklace/bracelet today, mommy' when I see her in the mornings or after work. Because those are the moments when I want to buy her all of the ponies in the world for being the most perfectly amazing daughter in the entire world.

 

I can't tell you how many times this past year, Steve or I would look at Brigid after a dinner out, a shopping trip, a visit to see friends, or a parade/zoo/festival type of day trip, just to tell her, 'you know what, B? you're kind of the best kid there ever was.'

 

Because she is.

And now, she's three. And things are about to get REAL crazy around our house, as Brigid has to transition from being the center of our whole world to sharing that spotlight just a bit with a new little sister. And, I think she is going to be an amazing big sister, when the time comes, because she's already told people that when the baby comes, I'm going to be around to help her take care of it.

 

I know things are going to get...interesting...for awhile, as we all try to figure out how things work in our lives with two kids around instead of one, but I honestly can't WAIT to see what new wrinkle in Brigid's personality emerges over the next year. I love watching her grow and change into the person that she is meant to be, and every time I think that I can't possibly love her any more than I do at one particular moment, I find out that I'm wrong.

 

I don't know how much bigger my heart can be expected to grow, how much more love it can hold, but I know Brigid is going to continue pushing that limit every day of her life.

She is stubborn. She is so full of attitude already that I don't even want to THINK about what might be in store for me ten years down the road. She doesn't listen to ANYTHING that Steve and I ask her to do, EVER.

 

If I tell her to clean up her mess? 'No, YOU do it."

 

She is smarter than she has any right to be at three years old, and she is already figuring out how to play Steve and I perfectly to get her way.

 

She's already kissed her first boy, for crying out loud!!

 

But...

 

She's also the sweetest kid in the world. She gets so excited over the smallest things, up to and including the time I glued the top of an acorn back to the nut after she was upset that it fell apart. She is funny. She's a performer. If she gets a laugh out of you when she does something, she's going to keep doing it. She has the Notre Dame fight song memorized, and she WILL sing it on command.

 

She is my favorite person in the whole entire world.

 

Happy birthday, Bug! I love you with all of my heart...

Baby's First Fireworks

We were supposed to have fireworks for our town's birthday about a month ago, but it got called due to rain. So, when we had our 'Taste Of' festival this weekend, they decided to do the fireworks then, instead. And Brigid LOVED them...
For about the first minute and a half, anyway, then she got bored and wanted to spend the rest of the time running up and down the sidewalk instead of watching the sky.

But that minute and a half was TOTALLY worth it...

First Day of School

We took Brigid to preschool for the first time this morning.

We walked into the classroom, she held onto my purse straps for 30 seconds, Steve asked her if she wanted to go play with the toys...

...and off she went. We barely got good-bye hugs out of her before she became too busy to deal with us anymore.

And just like that, she's too cool for her parents, now. It was a good (almost) three year run we had there with her, I guess.
Kids, man.

(Seriously, I am glad there was no drama in the preschool process...she went in, she loved it, we left her there for three hours. It was much less painful than I thought it would be. Of course, that didn't stop me from weeping to Steve as we got back to the car about how 'Brigid didn't know we were leaving! In ten minutes, she's going to look for us and realize we're gone and OH MY BABY!! She's going to be so upset!'

To which Steve replied, 'Honey? She knew we were leaving. She's just OK with it.'

Oh, fine. Whatever. She had fun. My ego is bruised. Everyone is happy. THE END.)