Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Happy Big Birthday, Tate!





It's official. As of yesterday, my sweet adorable little baby is now a (gasp!) toddler! I suppose he's been a toddler for a few months now with all of the walking he's been doing. But there's something about that one-year milestone that gets me. When a baby is first born, his life is measured in weeks. After about 12 weeks, you tell people how many months he is and it's sort of relieving not having to keep track of the weeks. At one, however, when someone asks Tate's age, I could just say "one" and it would be totally accurate.

I managed through the day without too many tears. I caught myself with a few trickling down occasionally, but I wasn't the water fountain that I was when Rowan turned one. I really just tried to enjoy Tate's day with him. We played. We ran. We knocked down lots of blocks. I sang "Happy Birthday" too many times to count. We cuddled.

I thought back to a year ago when my little guy was born, my long labor, my c-section and all of the complications that came along with it. And I think what a small price that was for such a huge gift. There are days, like today, where I really can't get enough of my little guy. Where I contemplate waking him up from his nap just to cuddle (but knowing that he would never just want to cuddle for more than a minute or two). He greets me every day with an almost ridiculous number of kisses. He lights up when we go get Rowan up in the morning. There is nothing he likes more than being chased, except maybe being held if it's that time of day. He is such a mama's boy. His favorite toys at home are the ball popper, the toy phone and the blocks. His favorite toy at Susan's house is the Disney Princess vanity. He loves to chase Harley and Sebby and pull on Sebby's beard and tail.

Tate, I hope you always have such a zest for life and are a mama's boy forever. I love you, little Tater Tot!

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Vacation






I think we chose the best possible week, in terms of weather, to visit Florida. It was literally sunny and 80 every single day. We chose the worst possible week, however, in terms of health. Tate, Rowan and I all had pneumonia and though Rowan and I improved drastically once on antibiotics, Tate did not. All in all, though, despite the sickness, we had a pretty good week.

Bringing my mom and sister along proved to be more than just a good idea. I am relatively certain the vacation would have been a disaster without the willing help of an unconditionally loving grandma. Seriously, my mom somehow kept up with Rowan's energy, took Tate for walks and watched both children twice so Lance and I could get out--once to go canoeing and once for Valentine's Day dessert.

Rowan spent every day playing at the playground, playing at the beach and swimming in the pool. She got more and more adventurous in the pool and loved jumping off the side. Tate got out the first day and the last two days and also loved the pool. We also went to the Everglades Alligator Farm (where Rowan held a baby alligator and a snake and we all took a very fun airboat ride), Theater of the Sea (where Rowan got to have a kiss from the sea lion, Mimi) and to a dock where Rowan threw dead fish to the tarpon and pelicans. She remains my fearless child.

It was so nice to be away from the cold, to have Lance away from work and to spend the week as a family. I'm already looking forward to our next vacation.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Slacker

So, here I am, a full month and a half into the year, and so far beyond breaking my resolutions that I'm wondering why I even pretended to make them. Bible reading has gone completely out the window. And, as for documenting my kids' lives, clearly that hasn't been happening either. Quite pathetic.

So, I'm going to take some time playing catch-up. Or at least trying to. I'll give our vacation a post to itself and try to remember what the Pellow clan has been up to the past few weeks.

Tate has been very big into giving hugs and kisses and I'm loving that. He, like Rowan, is not a cuddler. Unless he's almost asleep or we're walking, he does not want to be held. He wants to move. Quickly and constantly. Though he is active like his sister, at least for now he doesn't seem to have the need to climb. By this age Rowan was climbing up and down stairs, climbing on top of the kitchen table and climbing up and going down her slide by herself. Tate, on the other hand, has only made it up two stairs and just stands behind the slide, watching. I'm pretty grateful that Tate has either not yet figured it out or has no desire to be a climber. Nice.

Rowan continues to be obsessed with Dragon Tales and is constantly imagining that Emmy is with her. Or that she herself is Emmy. In that case, Cassie is with her. We are constantly chanting "I wish, I wish with all my heart, to fly with dragons in a land apart" while holding onto something that is the pretend dragon scale. Then we're going to Dragon Land and celebrating someone's birthday. When I say constantly, I really mean it. This happens many, many times every day. She also occasionally pretends to be Pinky Pie (a My Little Pony she got for Christmas) and I am Minty and we both yell "It's today" and get excited about Pinky Pie's birthday while gallopping around.

I'm still trying to find a good balance in taking care of the kids and myself. I feel I am constantly choosing between the two. When I am a good mom, I have a messy house. When I have a clean house, I am not such a great mom. And this seems to be how it is in many areas of my life. I can have one, but not the other. At least not at the same time.