I've Cleaned Up My Potty Mouth, I Swear! (but I didn't really swear!)

The other day, when it was about three thousand degrees outside, we were venturing out to combat the stir crazies.

The air conditioner was cranking and doing a pretty good job of icing us all down. After a short time, Bean piped up from the back seat,

"Momma, I need a blanket. I need to cover my toes and my head and my legs and my everything! I'm freaking cold."

Um, excuse me?

I asked her to repeat herself.

"I need a blanket! I'm freakin' cold!"

"Er, you're what?"

"Freakin' cold! I'm cold, Mama!"

"You're WHAT cold!?" I was starting to mentally go over our latest trips in the car to be sure I hadn't started saying that out loud (again). Nothing.

Then, I got it.

"You're freezing cold?"

"YES Mama! Can you turn the hair conditioner off?"

Phew. Safe.

3's the Magic Number?

Tonight after dinner, Shaun and I discussed plans for tomorrow. He mentioned wanting to head down to the hospital to visit one of his students and as soon as he said hospital, Bean's face grew stormy and she shouted,

"NO! I do not want to go there!"

I was about to reprimand her for yelling at us and whining when she continued,

"I just want two babies!"

Puzzled, I stopped and stared at her. She went on,

"I do not want to go to the hospital and get another baby! I JUST WANT TWO BABIES! I LIKE OUR BABIES! No MORE!"

Shaun and I had a really, really hard time not laughing out loud while reassuring her that no, we wouldn't be getting another baby from the hospital.

I either still look very pregnant or she missed the memo about how we got the two babies that already live here... and just heading on over to the hospital and picking them up? Oh, how I wish it were that easy.

Newborn Dramatics

There are those that scoff at the idea that newborn babies have moods at all, let alone entertain the idea that babies can express them.

I beg to differ.  Consider this:

 

He is clearly expressing a bit of a skeptical attitude, complete with eye wrinkle and snort.  Clearly.  (And get a load of the dimples!)

And there, that's the "I'm not so sure how I feel about your idea to let C climb all over me.  Help?  Please?"

And then there's the foreshadowing of things to come:

Deep, dimpled grins.  I'm looking forward to a lot more of those.

Now my skeptical skeptics?  Case closed?  I think so.

Generations

We get a fair amount of raised eyebrows when we share our son's name.

"Sayer."

"Sayer?  What's that--? Where'd you--?  Um, is it a family name?"

It's a bit unusual, we'd agree.  We picked it mostly on merit of its meaning.  You see, Sayer means "storyteller."

This evening, in a brief period where all three kids were asleep and the house was quiet, I began searching through the pictures that we've taken since Sayer's arrived.  This particular shot caught my eye. 

At first, it was because I was giggling at the expression on my son's face. 

But then it struck me.  Sayer's sitting in the lap of one of the most vibrant storytellers that I've ever met.  My grandfather can spin tales to captivate the most reluctant of audiences.

So in that picture, my little son and my Grampy.  A storyteller and a storyteller to be?  Perhaps.  Time will tell on that one.  But that's a legacy I wouldn't mind him growing into. 

Adjusting - With a Bit of Sass

The four of us are slowly adjusting to life with our number five.  Shaun and I are obviously quite smitten with the little man.  Bean's been relatively blase about Sayer, as she's had more than her usual share of friends and family willing to give her undivided attention.  She does periodically peer over at him and tell me how cute he is or to check whether he's sleeping or not.  C, on the other hand, loves the baby.  LOVES him.  After saying hi to me, she inevitably follows by saying, "Baby?  Baby?  BABY!" 

Sometimes when she yells "baby!!" she sounds vaguely scary, especially when she runs over with both hands over her head to show him some "love."  She gives him lots of kisses and pats his head and only occasionally smacks him or drops things on him.  No doubt she loves him...  but sometimes?  Her love hurts. 

Out of all of us, she has the most adjusting to do.  But she's adjusting.  Just don't expect her to adjust without a C sized dose of sass.

 

She's bound to help make this next year a wild ride.  But as crazy as I imagine it's going to be, I wouldn't change a thing.  (Remind me of that when my sanity takes flight)

How to Celebrate a One-Week Birthday

Sayer turned one-week old and we decided to decorate!

I'd say he's a sound sleeper, wouldn't you?

There are Sweet Dreams and then? There are the Crazies

Our first night home, I groggily peered around our dimly lit room, completely disoriented.  I looked over at Sayer in his bassinet and he was sitting up, looking at me.

He stared at me.  I stared back.  He grinned at me.  

And I woke up right as he said, "Hi Mommy!"

It. Was. Bizzare. 

Thankfully, most of Sayer's hours are spent more like this:

Home - We 5

It's been a very, very eventful few days, to say the least.  I'm still decompressing and adjusting but I figured I'd post pictures and introduce our new little guy.

Sayer Malachi

9 lbs, 4 oz.

20 inches long

He's a sweet little pudge ball of adorableness with two fantastic dimples and I'm certifiably smitten.