1. Despite the appearance of my house, I am, at heart, a neat freak. I like a place for everything and everything in its place. I'm trying, but there is a powerful force in my household that is working against me. (And it ain't the children.)
2. I love, love, love Mel Brooks and Monty Python movies.
3. I have found in life that the things that are the hardest are always worth doing, and they generally turn out to be easier than I originally thought. Particularly when it comes to undertaking milestones in raising your children.
4. Ever since I had children, I find myself much more prone to tears. Sappy commercials and shows can get me every time, and I would just as soon not talk about, read about, or see any situation where children are irreparably hurt. No need for that, thanks.
5. I stopped working outside the home after Benny Boy was born. I love it and wouldn't trade a single day of being a SAHM, but every once in a while, I miss the people I used to work with. They were such a great group of people, and we always had wonderful, stimulating conversations. We laughed all the time.
6. I know almost every word to every song that I like, but I can't carry a tune in a bucket. The sad thing is that when I'm alone, I think I actually sound pretty good. It's a curse.
7. I have a very stringent protocol when it comes to drinking beverages. I love real Coke, but it must be consumed as follows: straight from a can or glass bottle. If it is poured over ice, it must be into a glass, not a plastic cup, unless it comes from a fountain, then it can go into a vessel of any make. I like it best from a glass bottle or can straight from the cooler. It gets colder than the fridge can make it (and usually, when it is pulled from a cooler, it means we are in the boat, and that makes everything better.) I'm not crazy about Diet Coke, but I can drink that in anything - cup, glass, styrofoam, can, but I will not drink fountain Diet Coke. Milk must be in a glass - period.
8. It drives me crazy when people use improper English. I'm convinced people think that if they can add more syllables to what they are saying, it will make them seem smarter. Using "myself" when it should be "me" only makes you seem smarter to idiots. And don't get me started on using "I" instead of "me".
9. I built shelves in my garage - big shelves, and I did it all by myself. I asked a few people for advice when I was trying to plan how I was going to do it because I had to attach them to a cinderblock wall. I couldn't get my head around it or come up with a design until I actually started building them. Then it all just fell into place. I'm really proud of these shelves. They ain't pretty, but they're solid, and they work.
10. I'm 32, and I still look at cadets and college football/basketball players as being older than I am. I wonder when that will ever change. Hopefully not for a long, long time.
I tag
Jodie,
Gwen, and
Anne.
I am in shock that Reeves' first year of "school" is almost over. This past Friday (April 25) was the 2's year-end picnic at JICP. It was a perfectly beautiful day for a picnic. All the llittle ones had their t-shirts on with their colorful caterpillars on them. 
Reeves immediately found Henry, and the two of them set off playing. We were lucky to be able to keep an eye on them at all, and this was no easy feat given the fact that every child was wearing the aforementioned same t-shirts. I lost sight of Reeves once long enough to get me worried, but, like magic, all of a sudden he popped right up. Luckily, I had Aileen and David helping in the search. 
And Aileen really stepped up to the plate when she took over occupying the children at the end of the picnic with her mad ball tossing skills. 
It was so good to see all the children and the parents. I am still in shock that we are about to put this school year in the books. I don't even have to work very hard to remember the little blue sailboat jon-jon we had him in for his first day of school. He has grown so much this year. From the scared little baby who clung to our legs and who cried all through naptime to this confident little boy who runs to his classroom and shows me all the things he has done at school. Each time I pick him up, he runs from wherever he is playing on the playground and hugs me and then his brother. He tells all his friends goodbye and practically counts the minutes until he gets to see them again. And as for that blue jon-jon, well that has long since been put away in a bin for Bennett. Reeves has grown too big for it. Like this first year of school, it is just a memory now, something we got as much out of as we could, but now it's time to move on. 
I can never thank his teachers, Mrs. Ledbetter, Miss Chapman, and Miss Carpenter enough for all they have done to make this year wonderful for Reeves. He adores them, and I just hope that in some small way, they realize just what a blessing they are to each parent.
It's so interesting to watch your little boy wanting and trying to be a big boy. With each of these milestones we check off the list, he gets that much farther and farther from the teeny tiny infant he was less than three years ago.
About three weeks after our initial attempts at solids, you finally relented and are now eating like a champ. Some nights I wish I had three hands because it certainly would keep you a lot happier if I could just shovel those sweet potatoes in, one spoon after another. It is so refreshing to have a child who eats so happily. I hope you keep up these healthy eating habits. Maybe one day your big brother will learn from you that food and mealtimes are not the enemies..JPG)
As expected, you have really upped the chatter recently. Your favorite noise is now the squeal. I love it because it is such a wonderful indication of your complete happiness. You will make that noise for me, but you reserve your uninhibited squealing for your brother and your father. Reeves usually squeals back at you, but you know that Daddy will instantly pick you up and snuggle and smooch you, and I think that's why you really do it. You have really started to love your Daddy time. 
For a while, you were waking up around midnight just to play with him. I know this because you weren't wet or dirty, and you weren't hungry. All you wanted to do was get right in his face and play. Of course, he delighted in those times. I suppose you have gotten your late night fix of him for a while because you are once again sleeping your solid 11-12 hours a night.
Speaking of bonding, you and Reeves are, apparently, on your way to becoming best friends. You adore him, and luckily, he appears to feel the same way. He loves to snuggle you and will even share some of his cherished toys with you. 
Of course, you aren't yet "taking" his toys, so we'll see how long this goodwill lasts, but we're off to a good start. Sometimes when you're fussy (which is rare), I can tell Reeves to go make you happy, and he is successful every time.
You started sitting on your own right about 7 months. Since then, you have learned to "swim" all around the den. Somehow you manage to get to what you want despite the fact that you only, two days ago, got up on all fours. It is too much fun to see you do this. When some toy catches your eye, you direct yourself towards it with all the excitement and dedication you can muster. How you even have the strength or energy to play with it once you get there is beyond me. You still can't get yourself to a sitting position on your own, but I know that is right around the corner.
Bennett, I can hardly remember life without you. Eight months ago we didn't even realize how incomplete our lives were. You have brought such joy to all of us. We love you more than you'll ever know.
Now, my own son loves building forts just like I did. And since we don't have a fireplace, what harm could there possibly be? Unfortunately, unlike my precise placement of the cushions and pillows forming secret rooms, his construction mainly involves throwing every soft object in the house into a pile, creating more of a landing pad than a fort. Occasionally he will burrow deep into the pile to "hide", but for the most part, he just likes to run and jump onto them. This is exactly what he was doing Saturday night - for almost two hours. We didn't stop him because the joy was so evident on his face and in his howling laughter that all we could do was join in the fun. Bryant even tossed him onto the pile a few times. However, like all good things, the time eventually came for this merriment to end. With bedtime rapidly approaching, Reeves was given two more minutes to play. He accepted his fate and went about having as much fun in those last two minutes as possible. And then it happened. His last dive into the pile was met not with a cushiony landing but with the hard edge of the sofa. 
He had busted his mouth. His scream was frightening. I fully expected to pick him up and find a tooth beneath him. He bled and bled. Luckily, all his parts seemed to be in order, and he calmed down realtively quickly. After sufficient snuggling and tender care, we were able to elicit a smile. Perfect. We loaded him up with Motrin and put him in bed. I called Mom and told her that I would be bringing him by in the morning to let his dentist grandfather check him out.
Amazingly, when he woke up, he was not black and blue. He drank his milk, ate his breakfast, and was even able to brush his teeth. We were floored. Needless to say, we didn't make a trip to see Pops. What a wonderful thing to be so young and so quick to heal. This was, by far, the worst injury Reeves has ever had. I'm so thankful it wasn't as bad as we thought it was. Coincidently, he has his first dentist appointment tomorrow.