The Haircuting ....



A while back my Mom and I gave Preston his first hair cut.  It needed to be done and he looked mighty handsome after it had been done.  As the months have gone on, his thick hair continues to grow and somedays I would look at him and think that it looked a little shorter.  Or I'd think that something was different about him.  Come to find out, my Mom had been cutting his hair here and there when I wasn't in the same room.  Just whenever she thought that he needed it, she's pull out the scissors and clip a little off the top or sides.  She later confessed that she liked to cut his hair while he was in the bath tub, and that was what contributed to the unevenness on the sides and the "bowl" style hair cut he now has .  I think that my son may have a fear of the scissors, after Grandma gets done with him.



The "Before" picture, where she is deciding where to cut

The "AFTER" picture

Project Glean

So there I was, minding my own business when my kind hearted hubby informed me that we were going to participate in our first service project as a family.  He had signed us up to go out and glean.  "Clean?" "No glean!" "You mean clean, right?"  "No, I mean GLEAN"!  So, off to the dictionary I went.  Farmers in the old testament were commanded to harvest the center of their fields and leave the areas around the field un-harvested for the poor and widowed.  We were going to a farmers field in eastern Colorado and glean the field and that food would then be delivered to a food bank.  After understanding it a bit, I thought that would be fun, but then I had a thought of our tank of a son, and carrying him in the baby bjorn through the fields of some farmers field in the middle of eastern, no where, Colorado, and I had a wave a panic.  I was assured by Brock that we'd be fine and he would carry Preston.  Luckily, we had someone donate a baby backpack for us to use, just in time for the project.  We went out to the farm, which happened to be right off the highway, and embarked on our service adventure.  It only took about 45 minutes and all the cucumbers and squash had been gleaned and off to the food bank.  Our first family service project went off without a hitch.   As I pulled out the camera to document our adventure, Brock said "You're going to blog about this aren't you".  I couldn't let him down, now could I?

8 Months Old ... with a slacker Mom

Just a little delayed ... but it's here :)

Preston turned 8 months 9/17/11.  He is growing big and strong, much to the benefit of my Chiropractor.  He is 24+ pounds, according to the scale at home, and I'm not sure how tall he is, but maybe this will help paint the picture ... I took him to the swings at the park by our house and there was a little girl in the swing next to Preston.  Preston and her were the same size, and actually Preston's legs hung down a little further than the little girls.  The Mom asked how old he was and when I responded she started to laugh.  I asked how old her daughter was and she told me 18 months.  He's a healthy and happy baby boy. 

Here are a few things about 8 month old Preston:

• Loves bath time.  Brock usually does Bath time with him and they both love every minute.
• Loves rides in the stroller.
• Loves to eat things that he can crush and crumble in his hands (Ritz crackers, Grahmcrackers, baby cheese puffs).
• Loves to blow into his sippy cup and feel the air that comes out of the vent on his nose.  He thinks this is hysterical.
• Loves to be tickled under his arms.
• Loves music.  Whether it's musical toys, people singing, classical music on the radio. 
• Likes the swings, for about 8 minutes.
• Likes his little stuffed doggy that we named Fred.
• Likes to drink his bottle only while he's standing or sitting straight up.
• Likes to rock back and forth on his hands and knees.  I think it's just to tease Mom and Dad like he's going to crawl.   He's so close to crawling it's crazy.
• Likes to be outside and watch the leaves blow in the wind or sit in the grass.
• He takes 2 naps, 9:30AM and 1:30PM and goes to bed about 7.  He is a morning person, he'll wake up at 5 and just lay there and talk and play until he gets hungry or I go and get him at 7. 
• He has 7 teeth, 4 on the top and 3 on the bottom.  He loves to use his teeth to eat crunchy things.
• He has endured 3 haircuts that will be discussed in another posting.

He's growing so much and is becoming so aware of the world around him, it's lots of fun to watch.

The Big Race

There's a strong possibility that I love pain.  There are several instances to prove that statement, but here is the latest.  I decided that to 1) To help me stay sane while our house is being built 2) as well as get back into shape after Mr. Preston's arrival, and since I am now officially unemployed, I'm going to run a 1/2 Marathon in November here in Colorado.  I have been able to sell this particular "brand of crazy" to a few of my dear friends.  So, each day Preston and I strap on our running shoes and slowly but surely put in the miles.  I say slowly and I mean slowly!  I'm not in running shape, plus the jogging stroller weighs 20 pounds and Preston is 23 pounds so I'm pushing a hefty 40+ pounds around the suburbs of Colorado.  Preston is a great partner though, he only whimpers a little when I go too slow up a hill and the sun is in his eyes. Most of the time he's looking around and he holds one foot out straight and then drops it and taps it against the stroller.  He gets really excited now that we'll stop at parks and swing on the swing, while I'm trying to catch my breath and look like I love pain. 

So, if there's anyone out there reading this that wants to join in the F-U-N, let me know and we can all share in the pain and suffering. 

He's been wearing his cool Adidas running outfit.

The Mint Contraversy

As Preston gets closer and closer to getting to the age where time-outs will be apart of our daily routine, there is one issue that Brock and I can not agree on.  That is the question as to the introduction of certain foods.  I do not have a strong aversion to any normal food.  However, Brock has a very strong dislike, even hate for mint.  He will leave a room if there is the smell of mint.  He purposely buys the Orange infused toothpaste so that he doesn't have to endure the lingering mint taste, that normal tooth paste leaves.  I have never met anyone that hates mint like my sweet husband does.  The funny thing is that whenever I think I'm being sneaky and eat something that is mint, he suddenly shows up and can smell it on my breath immediately.   As an example, he was at his Grandparents house, and I was at home with Preston while he was napping.  My Mom had these york peppermint patty M&M's.  I saw them and thought "Yummy and I can get away with it for sure, Brock is at his Grandparents house without the car.  There's no chance of me getting hassled."  No sooner did I put one in my mouth, he comes walking through the front door and the first words out of his mouth were " Are you eating mint"? 

I wish this was an isolate instance, but it is not.  I've gotten busted on several occasions.   So, as we start to introduce more and more solid foods, and Preston is using is 5 little teeth so well, I am reminded frequently as to the restriction of introducing mint at any time to our son ...  however he will be choosing for himself.