Behind, As Usual

Yeah, yeah, it has been over a week since I posted. Life is busy, y'all. We went to the beach last weekend, and this weekend I have a bachelorette party, a bridal shower, and a baptism to attend, as well as just everyday stuff. But! I am feeling refreshed, as Charles slept a solid six hours last night, more if you count from when we put him to bed (which was, like, 8:30, but he woke up to fuss and get a binky back in his mouth a few times between 9 and 11:30). Buster, however, woke up at 1:30, and we interpreted his bark as a warning that the neighbors were home (save the women and children!), but which was, in fact, a warning that he was about to sick up if we didn't let him outside. Which we didn't. And he did. So that was a fun surprise this morning.

Anyhow, what I really wanted to do today was belatedly celebrate Tony over the internets, forever* immortalizing him on this blog. You know, because it was Dad's Day on Sunday, the majority of which we spent driving and listening to an audiobook. Oh, and if I might give an interlude, there's a funny story about that drive: About Olympia, I moved to the backseat of the car to entertain Charles, who refused to continue sleeping and was not placated by they sight of the dog in the backseat with him (Buster wasn't really doing anything. He's not so much about car antics and acting like a circus monkey to entertain the kid, that dog). So Buster moved up front with Tony. Where he was totally concerned that I was now in the backseat. On the way down to the beach, Tony had spent considerable time entertaining Charles whilst sitting in the backseat, Buster at my side riding shotgun, but now, with Mom in the backseat, this was just uncool. So Buster joined us in the backseat. For a good portion of the drive, Tony played chauffeur to not just me and Charles, but the dog as well. I don't think there's any question whose dog Buster is.

Hmm, that story didn't exactly serve to highlight how much we all love and appreciate Tony, so I'll tell some others: Tony routinely changes diapers in the middle of the night. He bathes and reads a story (sometimes three) to Charles every night. He soothes Charles about half the time that he's fussy. He feeds Charles. He does laundry. He mopped the floor the other day. He works hard at his job everyday so that I only have to work part-time. He volunteers his time with the likes of Habitat for Humanity. He decided the other day that he wanted dual monitors for our home computer, and managed to convince his office to pay for the upgrade as well as the monitors. He tells me I look sexy and grabs my butt (even though it is a bit more squishy than it used to be). He indulges me when I tell him that I want to paint the kitchen again.

New colors for 2009~ La Fonda Antique Red and Oatlands Subtle Taupe, both of which go very well with the abundance of honey-colored wood in our home since the remodel last year.

Honestly, I don't know a whole lot of other fathers, especially in my reference group (friends and family with kids the same age) who are as participatory as Tony. He never shies away from a dirty job and has been a committed father since the day we found out we were going to be parents. And I am so thankful, because my life, and Charles' life, are better for it. I honestly feel badly for women whose husbands refuse to learn how to soothe their crying babies, can't adequately change a diaper, and won't invest the time to learn everything about their child and everything wonderful about being a father.

And, of course, I can't leave off a post about dads without mentioning how much I love my own daddy, who, at this moment, is recovering from general anaesthesia after having a guide put in some unmentionable part of his body to assist in the radical radiation therapy (hah! Radical... get it?) he will undergo later this afternoon to kill his prostate cancer. It sounds rather horrendous, what with multiple catheters and irradiated probes and several rounds of this surgicalish procedure over the next 24 hours, and then again next week, but with any luck, he'll live to see his great-grandchildren, even if he does glow a little bit. One thing that has always been amazing about my dad is that he has talked to me like I was an adult for a very long time. We used to take long car trips and talk the whole way about politics, business, and other weighty subjects. I learned a lot from him and he never talked down to me, a practice I hope to maintain with my own children.

So! Happy belated Father's Day, dads in my life. I love you both so much, and I can't imagine my life without you. Thank you, with all my heart.

*Forever being how long the internet lasts... which might not actually be, you know, forever. On a related note, does anyone out there know how to back up a blog to a disc? So I have a nice, hard copy of the most accurate pregnancy/baby record that exists, since it was done in real time? Andy? I'm counting on you, friend.

Sunday Photo Roundup

I dig in my toy basket by myself.

Woof! We went to Anacortes' Bark in the Park and had all sorts of fun with Buster...

Charles loved looking at all the neat doggies. But he still thinks his Buster is the best of all.

Sometimes you gotta dance.

And sometimes you gotta scoot.

You know, when snot comes out of your eyes...

Newspaper- world's best baby toy.

As our string of good weather continues, so do our allergies. And, I am reasonably certain, so does a cold to which we all succumbed, but initially blamed on mega-horrible allergies. Baby Charles managed to get the cold in his eyes, not something I knew was possible. I kid you not, snot came out of his eyes. Green, icky mucous, pouring forth from his little peepers... all day, and more when he sneezed. So, after some shrill screams of discomfort on Sunday, I called the doc on Monday and took him in. The snot's all gone now, thanks to the miracle of antibiotics. But really, the point here is, he went to the doctor and got weughed. 22 pounds, 13 ounces. Big man. You might recall that a mere month ago, he weighed 21 pounds. His staggering growth continues, and I am all around not sure what to do about it.

Have you ever known such a happy baby?


Tony is away today and tomorrow, leaving me overnight to contend with dog and house and boy. It's a bit different now that it isn't tax season - I rely on Tony for so much now, perhaps taking advantage after not having had the luxury of a husband for so long. Also, Charles is so much more active now, it makes getting things done even more difficult. Ultimately, though, the bed is just much colder without Tony.

Greeting me after a nap.


So I called 911 the other day. I actually witnessed a man kick his dog. The cruelty of some humans (I can't, in good conscience, call them people) astounds me. So I hope the cops gave him a good talking-to. At the very least, they now have record of it, so if he is called in again, the dogs might get another home.

Buster Dog, upset after witnessing his brethren kicked, hides under the peonies.

I have mentioned in the past Charles' propensity for walking. See for yourself:

A bit wobbly, but working hard.

Lemonade Popsicle... Yum?

Good laaaawd, it is hot here. Too darn hot, if you know what I mean (props if you actually do know what I mean {hint: it's a song}). I am totally down with 75 degrees, but you hit 90 and I am out. I mean it. Out.

Did I tell you that Charles seems to have hay fever? He woke up from his nap this morning with an epic amount of snot encrusted around his nose. His eyes are red like he's smokin' the doob, and I don't think he enjoys the heat much. When he is hot he goes from happy to "Advanced: don't try this without backup and migraine medication" in a hurry. Fortunately for us, he seems to enjoy the sunscreen process. And the backyard pool is a real winner - for mom and dad, too.

So now is when I lapse into "Charlie's Antics" for lack of other, more interesting stories with which to regale you.

His personality is really shining through. He knows exactly who he is and will turn when his name is called. He continues to love Buster more than any living thing. Check out this photo of Charles and Tony chasing the dog... make sure to note the expression of utter glee on Charles' face.

He has a pretty great baby sense of humor. He laughs when mama does something silly. He laughs when dad does something silly. He laughs at the dog. He laughs at funny noises and movement. He is ticklish. He adores peek-a-boo and continues to think other children are spectacular.

Charles thinks he can walk. Now, I don't mean he can walk, because he clearly cannot. But. He thinks he can. And so, we have entered the stage in his young life that is marked by bruises and multiple crying jags each day. Why? Because children who cannot walk and try to do so often fall on their faces. He has also taken up lunging for things, even when strapped down in his rocking chair. Today, he managed to turn the chair over on himself. He is one strong boy, and I have no doubt he will remain so if we can just keep him alive. Sheesh.

Charles is also more and more enamored with his reflection each day. The recent change is that someone (not gonna name any names, but his initials are Tony) has been letting Charles reach out and touch his reflection in every mirror. How can a baby have such greasy handprints? They're everywhere, marring every mirror. But damn, he has fun doing it:

Are you looking at his gut? He's workin' on it!

I had a lemonade popsicle today. While I thought it was exquisite, Charles' reaction was somewhat more, ahem, doubtful. See for yourself:

Random Check-In

Gosh, it's hot. Like, unbearably hot. I even clipped Buster's overgrown butt-fur so he would cool down a bit. That poor, furry dog.

Saturday was my birthday, and it was a very nice day. I'm beginning to think it might be awhile before I get back to raucus parties (which I adore, especially if they are of the costume variety), but as long as the alternative is a beautiful day with my favorite boys, I'll be happy. I had a Rotary work party to attend in the morning, at which I worked my ass off hauling fence panels and weeding, and then I had lunch out with Tony and Charles. I got an afternoon nap and some gardening in my own yard done. We barbequed and then watched a movie after Charles went to bed. All in all, a wonderful Saturday. Oh, and I made cupcakes. I guess the cupcakes were the only real indication it was my birthday. My gifts included lovely flowers from Loris and DeAnna, spices, a cookbook, and a composter from my folks, and a few CDs (Prince, Elvis, MGMT) from Tony and Leland. I'll save wearing a party dress for next year, assuming I feel good enough about my body to buy one.

Charles pulled himself up from a lying down position on Saturday, all the way up to standing. He tucks his knees and scoots a bit on his belly. Time to babyproof!