Archive for April, 2012

April 25th, 2012

for just a moment

I wanted to quickly brag about David (because I *never* do that).

He had his 18 month check-up a couple of weeks ago. Like at all appointments they ask questions about his development and such. One of the questions was, “Does David know seven to ten words?” I said something to the effect of, “Oh, yes.” And the nurse asked about how many words I thought he said. I said I thought he knew 20 or so words. She raised her eyebrows at me.

Ever since, I’ve been going over it in my head and wondering if I exaggerate. Does David really know that many words, or does it seem like he does, but he’s just saying the same 10 over and over again?

For two days I wrote down all the words he said. I didn’t include animal or vehicle sounds or words he was TRYING to say, but doesn’t really know yet.

How many?

I ran out of room on my paper at 75. David says 75 different words regularly. He literally learns a new word a day (yesterday’s word was “waffle” I didn’t add it to the list).

His favorite words:

  • car
  • truck
  • hot
  • oops
  • momma
  • eyes
  • this
  • that
  • what? (he has the best comedic timing with this one)
  • daaaad (almost always all drawn out like Dad’s lost or in trouble)

Funny word jumbles:

  • He calls his stuffed lion “lettuce”
  • All dinner is “pasta”
  • Vacuum is “truck”
  • For a while please was pronounced “plop”
  • Down is “nup”
  • No means yes or no, even though he knows how to say “yes”
  • Ball is “but”

My favorite words he knows:

  • help (so nice instead of whining)
  • cup
  • snack (which means food or can just mean craisins, he loves craisins)
  • please/thank you (recently added, though he still says thank you mostly when he is handing me something and not the other way around)

Two-word pairings:

  • most words with up/down or on/off (socks on/off, light on/off, etc)
  • “help this” I think he’s trying to say “help me with this”
  • most words with please
  • most words with uh-oh

(He is currently standing at my closed bedroom door begging “Mot, eeese! Mot, eeese!”  (more please) for me to open the door and get him a Tums. He giggles like an insane person when he thinks he’s getting a Tums. Maybe we should give him more candy, just so he doesn’t think things like Tums are a treat …)

April 16th, 2012

the big day

Easter Sunday was a lot of things piled in one day: Easter, Matt’s first Sunday in almost three years not in the bishopric (David’s first Sunday sitting with Dad at church), and David’s first Sunday in Nursery. Nursery.

We had a little Easter egg hunt on Saturday afternoon after David got up from his nap. David loved “hunting” for the eggs, and loved that they were filled with snacks even more. We filled each egg with a few raisins and a single fruit snack. He had no idea he was ripped off, and was absolutely delighted to find raisins.

The big guy on his first day of nursery.

We live in a ward with a lot of babies. A lot. What happens when all those babies turn 18 months old? They go to one of the SIX nursery classes. It’s not as simple as just taking him to nursery: you have to find someone in charge, fill out a piece of paper and then they assign him to a nursery class.

He was a little timid at first. When I say “at first” I mean for about 10 seconds and then he went and sat on the nursery leader’s lap and played with the playdough, forgetting all about Mom and Dad.

David was a big, brave boy. I cried. I knew that of the two of us, I would have the harder time. We do 99% of everything together, and I love it immensely. We play together, we shop together, we go to the library together, we cook, clean, and craft together. Not only is David my shadow, but he’s been my only church buddy while Matt’s been away taking care of a ward. I probably have more separation anxiety than David does (clearly).

Don’t get me wrong, I am THRILLED he’s in nursery. Three hours of church with a toddler is hard. Really. We’ve had our great Sundays, but we’ve also had a few Sundays … well, when the only reason I even got out of the car and took him in was because I’d see my — single mother of twin five-year-old boys — neighbor walking tall and alone into church. As happy and excited as I was to take him to nursery, it was still hard.

I am grateful for three things:

  1. David liked nursery (and did great his second week, too).
  2. Matt was there so I didn’t have to sit/cry alone.
  3. We watched a movie about the Resurrection in Sunday School. So the lights were off most of the time and no one could see me crying, and if they did, they thought I was touched by the movie and not just a mom with separation issues (and hormones, can I blame hormones too?)

And now we know which mom I’ll be on the first day of Kindergarten. I should just buy the Kleenex now.

PS Don’t let yourself feel overly sad for me, I didn’t so much as sniffle when Matt took him off to nursery yesterday. Though, I did try to spy on him.

April 16th, 2012

my morning so far

It’s 7:15 am. It’s been a long morning.

David woke up at 2 am, I spent an hour getting him back to sleep. He got up again at 5 am, this time Matt went and tried to get him to go back to sleep. After half an hour of continuous crying, Matt came back and I went to try to convince David it wasn’t time to be awake.

By 6 am I could hear that our upstairs neighbors had given up on sleeping and started their day (sorry neighbors). I was just about out of patience with David when he suddenly got quiet and widened his eyes. He heard birds chirping outside.


“Do you hear the birds?”

“Caw! Caw!”

“Your crying woke up the birds.”

He lifts his hands next to his face with his palms up, “Ups.” (“Ups” is how he says oops, it’s one of his newest, most favorite words.)

I chuckled. I was tired and frustrated, but I couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

I convinced him to lie down on his pillow and “listen” to the birds. When they stopped chirping, he said, “Uh, oh.” So I told him that the birds went night-night (maybe they did, right?). He rolled over and snuggled with his blanket and went to sleep. By this time, I knew that he would only sleep for half an hour or so before being ready to be up for the day, but I still felt validated as a parent that he went back to sleep in his bed, and I didn’t have to give in to the crying.

He did get up half an hour later and immediately ran to the pantry (maybe his hunger had been keeping him awake …).

We ate breakfast.

We made shadow puppets in the rising sunlight.

I started a load of laundry.

I got dough out of the freezer to make homemade hot pockets for lunch.

David carefully arranged his cars on the couch.

Now David is watching Sesame Street via Netflix, and I’m trying not to fall asleep.

April 6th, 2012


A few weeks ago I woke up and decided to make David little bean bags to throw around. These would have taken me only a few minutes to do, but, like the over-achiever I am, I decided to put numbers on them, too (which ended up taking a lot of time because I made it complicated).


I used some fabric scraps and dry beans I’ve had around for quite some time, so they were FREE.

I made enough 4×4 squares for numbers 1 through 10 in various colors (20 squares, 2 for each bean bag). I printed the numbers on cardstock and then traced them onto some iron-on adhesive I also had around (if you make some, trace the numbers BACKWARDS onto the webbing so they will be right when you iron them to the fabric). I followed the iron-on directions and ironed them onto contrasting fabric, cut them out again, and then ironed them onto the front of 10 of the 4×4 squares.

I stitched around the edge of each number (which is what made it complicated and take forever), and then sewed right sides together around three of the sides of each bean bag. I filled each with 1/4 cup dry beans (which ended up being exactly a one-pound bag of beans to fill all the bags). I finished sewing the fourth side.

Viola! Free new “toys” for David.

April 3rd, 2012

here and now

You probably want to know more about what’s going on in our lives other than what toilet paper we’re using and Dollar Store shopping …

Matt: working on exciting things and still an awesome dad. When I say awesome Dad, I mean the fort building, piggy-back giving, box pushing, ball throwing/kicking/bouncing, walk going, story reading, hide-and-seek playing kind of Dad. David adores him and looks forward to him coming home every day from work.

Ashley: possessed by the nesting devil and pregnant. Combine spring cleaning with nesting hormones and you get me: a ball of anxiety and constant reorganizing, rearranging, decluttering, and cleaning. Think of something on your spring cleaning list and I’ve probably done it. Think of something on your spring cleaning “I wish” list, and I’ve done that, too (unless it’s in the kitchen, I haven’t tackled that room … yet). I’ve also made new activities for David (little bean bags and church distractions) and have a growing collection of baby hair bows.

David: an explosion of communication, milestones, and toddler mess-making. He knows more words than I can list, started putting two words together (light on, light off so far), figured out zippers, climbs on everything, started saying NUMBERS (one, two, and nine are his favorites), started sleeping in a “big boy” bed (post on that later, for sure), and has the funniest, quirky personality. Oh, and he apparently knows how to work our BluRay player, the things they pick up on.

I did take him to the doctor today after a very l-o-n-g weekend with a fever and then a serious case of worst tantrums you’ve ever seen, followed by a rash. He’s okay; virus + exhaustion from virus + lack of eating because of virus = really long weekend. This week has started out sunny, and hopefully we’ll all recover soon (Matt and I are healthy, but a little war-torn).

Baby Coco: full of movement and getting bigger. She’s healthy and moves constantly. I think there is a good chance she could be bigger than David’s 7 pounds, 14 ounces. I crave mint and chocolate and have been in this weird lemon poppy seed phase for a while. Before you invite me to come clean your house after reading my earlier blurb, I decline. Today marks the first day of my third trimester, meaning we have 12 weeks or less before she’s here and there are still things to do around here; that, and I can tell that I’m getting very close to being too big, uncomfortable, swollen, and tired to be of much more use.