Days 2015

Days 2015

Thursday, September 26, 2013

One is Fun

Luke turned one the day after he started saying his second word:  "Yay!"  Very appropriate!  His birthday was just the right speed.  That morning I babysat for my babysitting co-op (I take a shift one morning a month) and pretended all the kids were there to play with Luke for his birthday, haha.  He loved watching everyone and was very good.  Hmm.  Maybe I'll start letting him go to co-op with the other babies... Then that afternoon he had a good nap while Macy was at preschool, and I baked his cake.  The kids were super excited for him to "open" his presents, which consisted of our sure-fire winner one-year-old gift that I've been saving since Boston, Cooper, and Macy grew out of it, successively.  Also a "new" car seat.  (Cheap birthdays are one fringe benefit of having five kids...if you plan ahead and hide toys well.)  For our birthday family adventure we tried out the new car seat by taking a trip to the pet store, just to look around at all the fishies and birdies.  (We also did this for Macy's first birthday and it was great.)  I didn't take any pictures there, but the funny thing was that Luke was just as excited to ride in the cart like a big kid as he was to point at all the little critters.  Then we came back for cake--and a bath!


Luke is one.  He has four and a half teeth.  Still drools a lot.

Luke loved his basketball toy.  (So did everyone else.  "I remember this!")

The funny thing was, just that morning he noticed the glowing red numbers on Mark's alarm clock and really wanted it bad.  Now he has his own blinky red numbers.  And they even cheer for him.

I love the dropped-jaw in this shot.  Whoaaa.

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Luke's hilarious shivery face (not as cool in a still shot, I caught it in the video) whenever he encounters something kinda weird.

Cake, schmake.  I want a banana.
One is fun, especially when my babies start crawling, talking, and digging in all the drawers.


Yup.  He got his Dad's bed head, too.

 Luke says dada (for about everything), a funny little phrase that sounds like "I diddit!"  all the time, smacks his lips for "I want a bite" (starts doing this as soon as I carry him into the pantry), and recently "yay!".  Luke is sleeping somewhat better at night, off of formula, starting to pull up (the first thing he pulled himself up on was the open dishwasher...ooooh!), and LOVES grown up food, mashed or ground or chopped to his consistency.  This is a huge about-face because for the longest time he wouldn't go for anything but bottles and cheerios.  It has been so funny, the last week or two, every single grown-up dinner I have made has been a huge hit, especially ground up in his baby mill, to the point of What About Bob?'s famous dinner scene.  He yells and hoots like an mad, excited orangutan, kicking his feet against the chair and bobbing his head for more, mouth wide open, gulping it down.  What a racket!  I scrape the bowl every night, and forget about me getting a bite in edgewise.  I promise I feed him the rest of the day, too, but that grown-up dinner food.  Wow!

He doesn't like sweets (yet).  Won't touch bread, pancakes and waffles, or even zucchini bread.  Or birthday cake.  Here is what happened:
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Incidentallly, I also had a birthday.  Hence the new camera.  A cool coincidence is that Leslie is working on a project for Young Women's that involves cooking dinner EVERY NIGHT for TWO WEEKS In a ROW!  She told me about it on my birthday so I am considering it my present.  Last night she made a flawless pot of cheese soup while I worked on this blog and answered the occasional, "Mom, what's 'saute'?"  She has the menu already planned and I have the groceries ready to go.  I feel like Golda's persona on Tevye's song "If I Were a Rich Man"--strutting like a peacock and supervising meals to her heart's delight.  I actually was strutting like a peacock late last night (late because she had been busy cooking earlier) helping Leslie decipher some Algebra.  At one point I frightened her by jumping up from the table, waving my arms in the air and celebrating.  (Picture grandma LaVonne winning at a game of Shanghai).  I was shouting something like, "My brain's NOT fried!  Now I know why I did all that calculus at college!  Woohoo!  You have one SMART mama.  And I haven't done math for 15 years at least.  Ask the teacher?  Pah."

Hope we did them right...she didn't find out the answers today and all of her answers were completely different from her friend's.  Well, she has to learn that her mom doesn't know everything someday.

I'm still learning, ya know.  I'm wrapped up in a super cool research project right now involving my ancestors that witnessed the Battle of Gettysburg.  I found out that Lee's headquarters were in my Grandpa's apple orchard and also came across his list of items stolen by the rebs.  One of the stolen items listed was "1 Scap Bees".  Huh?  Looked it up and couldn't find "scap".  Looked up bees in the dictionary and found the term
"bee-skep".  Do any of you know what a skep of bees is?  My Utah friends see one a dozen times a day.  It's our state symbol.  A straw, traditionally shaped beehive.  I told Leslie she should stump her Utah History teacher and see if he knew what it was, haha. I didn't even take Utah History.  What's the nerdy equivalent of a peacock?



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