Six

Six? What the what? My baby can't be six years old!

I must admit that the first year was pretty rough. You were not the um, easiest baby ever.

However, I love you so much. You are my little buddy. You hate it when I call you little though. I know you are not supposed to be friends with your kids. But, you are my friend and my daughter.

You have the sweetest heart. You love your little brother and love to help me out with him.

You love Kindergarten and you are doing so well. You love your teacher and your friends in your class.

You are reading up a storm. My favorite part of your birthday party was watching you read your birthday cards out loud.

You have a BFF. I can't believe how quickly you and Katelyn became attached to each other. You met at Meet the teacher night and you have been best friends ever since. She is the sweetest thing and is perfect for you. You are different, but just compliment each other so well.

You love Jesus and you want others to know about His love. I love it when you tell me about telling your friends about Jesus.

You became a big sister this year. We kind of sprung that one on you, but you quickly adjusted to it. You never complain about him. You love playing with him and you are his biggest encourager! You love to cheer him on as he learns to sit up, crawl, walk, etc. You don't even mind picking up your stuff so that he doesn't eat it.

You love your daddy.

You are trying to be grown up. It's hard to watch you spread your wings. You told me this morning that you are going to start calling me mom. Actually, you said, "Mommy, I'm going to stop calling you mommy. Is that okay, Mommy?". You want to be a big girl, but you are still a little girl, too.

I love you, sweet (baby) girl.

As if he wasn't cute enough already....

Patrick will now dance as soon as he hears music! If a song comes on, he stands up and grabs the edge of the coffee table. Then, he bounces up and down. It's especially cute if it's just in his diaper! I could probably post a video of this since it's just the back of him.

He also started feeding himself this weekend. He will grab food off of his tray and put it in his mouth. I have been trying to get him to do this for a while, but he was much happier when I was feeding him. Now, he's trying to do it on his own.

AND....he will stand for about 5 seconds on his own. He has been pulling up and standing, but he will let go of whatever he is hanging on to and stand for a few seconds by himself.

He's such a happy guy and always smiling. He's a blessing to us.

P.S. I have to blog about these milestones or I will never remember them all!

Grilling vs. Barbequing

I love spring/summer nights when we can grill. It's just such a nice feeling to have the kids outside playing and Steven grilling something that is making the air smell yummy.

HOWEVER, in California, people call this activity "barbequing". When someone first said that, I thought that they were putting bbq sauce on something. Like the food you get at Country's or Hog Heaven? You know, a pulled meat sandwich with BBQ sauce on it. I was so confused!

It turned out that people here refer to the activity as "barbequing" and the grill is called the BBQ.

Now, I can adjust to a lot of things in CA. And I don't make fun of things in CA because I feel that when you move to a new place, the worst thing you can do to alienate yourself is to make fun of a word or something about a place. Even though my "FRIENDS" make fun of the way that I say water, I just try to embrace CA and I really like it here.

EXCEPT....I refuse to call that activity anything besides grilling. I used to say that I was "grilling out". But,I've shortened the term so that I don't get quite so many stares when I talk.

Here's the heartbreaker. Last night, Maggie was playing outside while Steven GRILLED. Maggie ran up to him and asked him if the "barbeque was hot". WHAT? My baby's been converted.

I guess this is how my parents felt the first time I said "Lafayette" when we lived in Louisiana. I was more ingrained in the culture because I went to school and my peers were from Louisiana.

So, the question of the day...what do you call it?

Barbequing or grilling

P.S. This in no way will ever change what I call it.

A quick Easter bunny story

I should be getting dressed, getting my kids fed, etc. But, I remembered this story this morning and needed to blog. Priorities, right?

When Steven and I lived in Georgia, we owned a house that had about 3/4 of an acre backyard. It backed up to the woods. This was Easter 2003, so it was before Maggie and Patrick. We had Willie and Gracie.

Gracie was my Valentine's present from the year before. She was a tabby with white paws.

On Easter morning, I got up and let Willie outside. Gracie liked to stay outside all night.

We had a back porch and as I opened the back door, I saw a horrible site.

Gracie killed a bunny and left it by the back door for us as a present. Gracie killed a bunny. ON EASTER MORNING.

She killed the Easter bunny.

My son is a bully

I have come to terms with the fact that my cute, adorable son is a bully. He is easy going and sweet to adults, but when it comes to babies who are smaller than him....he's a bully.

Well, okay, really, he's just a bully to Silas. Silas is Brynn's son http://lovebrynn.wordpress.com/
Silas is older than Patrick, but a little smaller and he came over on Monday afternoon so his mom and dad could go save the world or something. Silas was so cute and woke up from his nap in the pack and play and wanted his paci for a few more minutes after he woke up. My son crawled over to the barely awake Silas and took out his paci. He took it out of his mouth and then held it right out of Silas' reach. I gave it back to Silas and Patrick did this same action over and over again.

The oddest thing was that he would look at Silas after he did it to see how Silas would react.

He's a big bully.

When they play together at church, Patrick immediately goes to whatever Silas has and tries to take it away from him.

I wouldn't play with Patrick anymore if I was Silas.

This is so different from what I am used to dealing with. I am used to my very dramatic, very sensitive little girl getting her feelings hurt because someone forgot to wave to her in the parking lot. Or they didn't notice that she was wearing a new pink skirt with sparkles on it.

Could I have two more opposite kids?

Good thing they are cute.

(Wouldn't that be a good title to a blog? Or a good way to end every post about my kids? Good thing they are cute? I sense a new catch phrase coming on....)

I wish...

• I wish that I could post pictures of Patrick on the internet. He is so photogenic and cute.
• I wish that the world could share in seeing his cuteness.
• I wish I knew what was going to happen in his court case this week.
• I wish I knew if we were going to have him next year.
• I wish I knew if we would be able to adopt him.
• I wish that it didn't take a court document for us to take him on vacation.
• I wish I could step into the future and just see if we still had him. Then, I would come back to present time and keep living the rollercoaster ride.
• I wish I knew the best way to explain all of this to him when he gets older and starts asking questions.
• I wish that he would be here later to ask me lots of questions.
• I wish I knew that no matter where he was living that he would be safe.
• I wish that I could honestly say that I prayed for his future everyday.
• I wish that his mom was a healthy person.
• I secretly wish that her health/safety didn't determine whether or not he was ours forever.
• I wish the judge who makes decisions for Patrick's life could see a glimpse into his life.
• I wish that the judge who rules in his case would make the best decision for him.
• I wish I could end this post with the cute picture of him that I am looking at right now.

A poll (because Brynn does it and it looks cool)

I've been blogging for a while.I've never really cared who looked at my blog. I put a stat counter on my blog and I'm becoming a little obsessed with it. At night, I'll see who looked at my blog and start questioning Steven.

Me: Steven, who do you know that lives in Iceland?

Steven: UH....no one

Me: Come on, think! It's got to be someone you know.

So, I posted a poll here. If you blog, do you track who is looking at your blog?

Do you track who reads your blog?answers