So Much To Celebrate

First, our little Simon O'Brien is 9 months old today! It's not easy to snap a picture when a 23 lb baby is sitting on your chest taking a wee snooze. This week Simon is in the habit of falling asleep on me when he's nursing, which I absolutely love. He usually faces away from me, so I can't see his cuteness all wrapped up in sleep. Every now and then he faces me, but I usually take that opportunity to pick out his buggers so I can't say I blame him for turning his nose away from me. I can be a little relentless when it comes to hardened snot.

So, we celebrate Simon turning 3/4 of a year old. I can't believe it. I remember last November: We were about to head out to Arizona for a holiday trip and I was pretty pregnant and Simon was double dutching in my stomach all the time. Now, he's here and damn, he's about to start walking. He can stand on his own for about 2 seconds right now. Sadie and I were trying to teach him how to walk this afternoon and he thought it was so funny. Every time I let go he would laugh and laugh, which would throw him off balance. Someday I hope he can tell me what's so freaking funny, because he's clearly in on the joke.

We are also celebrating the 200th post for Swaddled With Joy! Sounds like one little mama has been cured of her commitment phobia and her lack of consistency.

Oh, wait, that's not true at all.

I have stuck with this little venue for collecting memories, insanities, and snippets from our lives. Is now a good time to say that while I was out this morning, Sadie went pee-pee in the potty twice and also managed to go #2 in the potty as well? Why not. She did. I couldn't decide if I was happy or sad that this took place when I was away from my post. I guess it doesn't matter. I still got to change many poopy diapers today alone and will probably get another chance as soon as tomorrow.

I would write more witty and wonderful scenes from our madcapped days, but I am exhausted. I am actually more exhausted than usual, as my beloved is in Las Vegas for a tournament with his dad and brother. I enjoy getting the texts from Jeff complete with a picture of the perfect weather at the tee box, especially when I am pumping, feeding Simon and keeping Sadie from impaling herself in the fireplace (all at the same time). Not exactly as picturesque as the bucolic 4 par at hole 8, but we manage to keep ourselves in gratitude for our humble vistas back here at home. I had great plans for doing projects around the house while Jeff was gone. Turns out that the only project I could really manage on my own was keeping the children fed and relatively unsoiled. The closets and the laundry and the countertops full of crumbs will have to wait until Jeff comes home (and he finds time to do them).

It's a good, good life, but damn, it sure makes me tired.

Here's to hundreds of more posts about love and growth and mess and crumbs and poop and milestones and heartbeats down the road.

Oh, and I can't wait until the post about my weekend away . . . even if it's in 2013, there WILL be a post about mama's weekend in some far flung locale wherein I will detail the exquisite, uninterrupted sleep, the shopping, the delicious food, the breast-pump-free nature of the excursion and the utter joy of both going away and coming home.