Worrying

Our friends are going through a difficult pregnancy, similar to what we went through when I was pregnant with Annie and Ivan. Their emails bring back a flood of memories of those stressful days, before we knew our babies but long after we had started loving them. Back then I used to think that there would be a certain point when I would stop worrying--at a particular gestation, at first, and then after they were born, at a certain weight, or developmental milestone, or after they were recovered from some ailment or adjusted to a new tweak in their schedule. But I'm starting to realize that the magical point that I see in the future--when I stop worrying, when I will be secure in knowing that the babies are fine--that point will never come. That is the awesome and terrifying thing about becoming a parent, and something I could not have ever fully understood had it not happened to me. These babies of ours, they are everything.

Cookin'

The last couple years have been a little overwhelming for Steve and I, with one stressful pregnancy, two career changes, one cross-country move, and two babies/toddlers. Recently, though, we've felt more settled and have been trying to remember what we like to do in our spare time. I remembered that I used to like to cook, so tonight I made a veggie lasagna.



Reviews were mixed.



Steve is going to make a meat loaf this week, maybe our discriminating toddler will like that better.

BUB-bbblleeesss

Ivan has what seems to be an unhealthy obsession with bubbles. If he sees a bottle of bubbles, he cries and yells, desperately, "BUB-bles! BUB-bles! BUB-BLLLLLLEEEEEESSS!" until you give them to him. And every so often throughout the day, he'll wander through the house murmmering "bubbles? bubbles?" and pointing to the places where, at some point in the past, a bottle of bubbles has sat.

Almost the last straw

You know that cliche about the husband who went out to get milk for the babies and never returned? If something like that happened in this family, it would be Steve got lost on the way to Ikea, spent hours and too much money buying furniture, tied it all to the top of the car with twine, drove home on the freeway at 25 miles an hour, dragged the boxes inside and emptied them onto the floor, discovered that the we had accidently purchased the Kupersmit hardware to go with the Svenglonger furniture, got back into the car to return to Ikea, and never returned.

Luckily, though, Steve DID return and now we have a office full of new, professional-looking furniture. My files are in file cabinents! My paperclips are in drawers! My books are on shelves! It's like I am a real lawyer, except one who showers infrequently and takes calls in play-doh covered pajamas.

Summertime, the livin' is easy

On Saturday we went to my birthday party at Nana & Papa's. Annie and Ivan skipped a nap and were still fun happy kids the entire day!

Here are the two monkeys in a chair.



Baby races! (Annie is totally kicking Sydney's butt.)



Papa and Pauli by the pool.



Baby Paige, have you met her? (She is the one in pink.)



Annie-girl, ready to swim. Can you see the big scab on her nose? She was standing still on the back porch and then fell straight on her face. It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen.



Steve, Ivan, Syndey, bathing.



Us.



Sydney and Anneliese.



Us again, during cake.



It was a nice birthday.

Maybe just a fluke

Annie recently started pointing to her diaper and giving me an intent, slightly stressed-out look when she needs a change. I figured that was a sign that she would soon be interested in using the toilet, so I got one of those kid potties and put her on it a few times yesterday and today. Then tonight, when she was sitting on it, SHE WENT PEE! It was so exciting. When she was done, we flushed it down the toilet and waved bye-bye. That was totally her favorite part.

Talky talky II

How to make a daddy happy:



How to make a mommy happy: