Joseph is 3. Juliana is 1. Somebody hold me!

Joseph turned 3 last month. Juliana is turning 1 today. I keep tearing up while watching them play together. Crying actually. Really it's quite absurd.

It's just... I didn't give them permission to grow up so fast! I just want to sit and snuggle them as much as possible. They want to go play. Snuggling is LAME, Mom! Well, too freaking bad. We are snuggling, damn it!

I had the chance to take portraits of them together when they were rested and happy and, if you can believe it, cooperative. I may have been carrying fruit snacks on my person for bribery and there may have been a PEZ dispenser attached to the top of my camera. It was kind of the greatest thing ever. Just sayin'.

I love how they all turned out, but these ones really make my heart hurt:

"Ew! Get him off of me!"

"I want to run, too!"

"Mommy, I'm so handsome!"

She makes this face all the time when she's up to no good:

We call this one, "The Uncle Rob".

My baby girl's pigtails.

She makes this face whenever she's thinking about grabbing something off the ground for a taste test.

The hat kills me. Special thanks to my sister Kate for "losing Auntie points" to get Joseph this outfit for his birthday.

Best of all, I'm so glad my kids like each other. They are so sweet when they play together.

I have to go get a tissue now, but you can see the rest here.

I need a hug.

Canon!

We got a new toy!

Stephen surprised me with a nifty bag to put it in!

I luf him. Now, I can carry around my gear at weddings. All professional-like.

It takes purty pictures.

Even if my subjects won't take photography seriously. Harumph.

Master Bath, Zombies, & Bath Box Painting

Back when Joseph was about 2 months old, Stephen somehow convinced me to let him put a second story master bathroom addition onto the house. We managed to build it and, thankfully, it never fell over.

Then we got distracted, tore down other walls, had a second baby, and generally lost our minds. The addition morphed into a storage closet.

Now that Joseph is about to turn 3 (let's not dwell on that fact...), we find that we don't really enjoy stepping on dinosaurs when we are taking a shower. We'd like our own bathroom, thank you very much.

Stephen has really been pushing this project lately. Something about how having a working bathroom 20 feet closer to his computer desk would result in considerably less zombie-related fatalities caused by an unavoidable need to pee in the middle of a Day Z game with his friends???

I did not make that up. He seriously cited that as a reason. Seriously.

Absurd man. I rolled my eyes so violently that I think I strained them.

So we bought a tub & toilet.

The room is now wired and insulated.

We have Pex water lines and holes for drains. Look! The pink downstairs bathroom!

Stephen is currently focused on installing the rest of the PVC so we can move onto tiling and drywall. Meanwhile, his son is focused on creating "tunnels" for his electronic bug to run through.

We are making progress. We still have lots of projects to finish (i.e. the living room), but the upstairs is the warmest part of the house right now, so that's where we are spending all of our time. We've bought tile and are discussing vanity and shelving preferences (more on that later).

In the meantime, Joseph is certainly profiting in the fort business.

The nice thing about giant bathtubs is that they come in GIANT BOXES! I love cardboard in winter. I really, really do.

I gave him a mini roller and some paint and let him go to town.

The whole time I was thinking (in my inner Mr. Burns voice), "Yes, yes, learn how to paint with a roller. Believe that it is fun. Then you can be Mommy's slave labor big helper whenever she wants to paint a wall." Then I cackled evilly in my head and tapped my fingers together.

At one point, he handed me the roller and told me how to spell his name.

Then he made his own "O" and I got all choked up with pride.

Then he got paint on my bedroom door and I got over my pride. Huzzah for diaper wipes!

When he got bored with the roller, I gave him some bubble wrap.

Cardboard and bubble wrap, how do I love thee?

When interest in bubble wrap started to fade, I sent him inside the giant box.

We painted, "No girls allowed!" to keep Juliana out. Yeah, because that's likely to happen...

Again, I'm thinking, "Yes, yes. Learn how to paint the ceiling. I have a whole ceiling in the living room for you to paint!" Then I remembered that would require a ladder and, consequently, about a 12 year wait. Then I was sad because that means I still have to do it. Shucks.

All told, he was occupied for the entirety of his baby sister's 2 hour morning nap. Winning!

Happy (Snowy?) St. Paddy's!

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!

It's snowing outside. A lot. It's not sticking to the roads, but everything else is fair game. We've already got about an inch. Stephen, lover of all things snow-related and manly builder of igloos, just looked out the window and wailed, "WHY IS IT SNOWING?!?! I wasn't prepared for this! We are halfway through March for crying out loud!!!"

To which I (quite reasonably) responded, "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?!" Of course, I said this while frantically searching my vicinity for a weapon with which to defend myself and my baby because the man standing before me who looked like my husband quite obviously was not my husband. My husband had clearly been kidnapped by Pod People. They must have replaced him with a robot lookalike while I was busy cooking dinner!

Not cool, Pod People, not cool! It's St. Patrick's Day--the holiday I associate with a he-finally-kissed-me glow coupled with a he-put-a-ring-on-it glow... So, like, I'm always super happy today or some such nonsense. In other words, return my husband this instant!! Please?!

Oh, fine you can keep him. I will just enjoy the rest of my St. Patty's Festivities with the kids.

  Leprechaun foot & hand prints and shamrock paint. Bahahaha.

Juliana and I made Guinness stew, garlic mashed potatoes, wheat rolls, and Irish soda bread.

  

Juliana really did "help" make all of the above delectable Irish dishes. We tried hip-carrying with the Ergo and discovered that it's perfect for cooking! It enables her to see everything that's going on and hold things for me while making it possible for me to keep her away from fun baby things like knives and ovens and stove tops.

You know what else the hip-carry is perfect for? DANCING! Lots of jig music and spinning and baby giggling :). Love me some Irish & Celtic Music Podcasts from Marc Gunn, but I am particularly enjoying Gaelic Storm lately.

Did you know they were the steerage band performing "An Irish Party in Third Class" in the movie Titanic? Way better than that "my heart will go on" crap. My current favorite by them right now is Johnny Tarr:



It's been stuck in my head all day.

Combined with Flogging Molly blasting down from the upstairs where a certain (maybe real?) husband is installing plumbing in the Master Bath, today's just about perfect. But more on that later... For now, I hope your St. Paddy's day was as wonderful and musical and relaxed as mine!!

Igloo-ologists

We are igloo-ologists.

In the unlikely event that you are confused--igloo-ologists build igloos every time there is enough snow to do so. They can't help themselves. They are snow addicts. No, not that snow. Fluffy snow. Of the snowflake variety.

The last time we had enough snow to build an igloo, I was six months pregnant with Joseph.

10 minutes long. Skip around.
And 90 gajillion points to the first person not related to me who can identify the last song. you're cool. let's be friends.

Yes, I am six months along in the above video. Yes, I am serious. No, you don't have to yell at me. It's been taken care of. Joseph was born with a love for snow, so it was completely worth it. End of discussion.

So, anyways, it's been over three years without a snow big enough for igloo building. Read: Addict withdrawal. With the end of winter nearing, Stephen was starting to despair. His son NEEDED an igloo, people!

Then along came Winter Storm Saturn. Ta-da!

Woot, woot! We were smack dab in the 12-18" range!! :) :) :) That much snow + Stephen = igloo = HAPPYHAPPYJOYJOY. No way was that man going to work today. He had very. important. things. to do with his son.

We put our 16" to good use. Joseph spent the entire day outside. No joke. Skipped naptime and everything. It's how we know the milkman has no claim on the kid. Definitely Stephen's son. Has the snow addict gene.

We started our morning with waffles, snow plow watching, and snow paint (elmer's glue + shaving cream).

Had to start the morning off flexing our snow muscles with something. Plus, we needed an occupation while we waited for Daddy to wake up so we could go OUTSIDE!

As soon as Daddy woke up, we got right to igloo building. Here is Joseph "helping" by using his substantial weight to pack the snow into our Igloo cooler.

Igloos take time. You really have to commit. It's a 4-5 hour process that involves coolers, shovels, saws, a very long nap taken by a 10 month old, and hide & seek with a son who only ever hides inside the igloo walls, but is very hard to locate.

However, since building an igloo just isn't enough when surrounded by such glorious bounty, we also set up a snow cone bar.

Dug a maze trail through the backyard that led to "Snow Mountain" and scaled it. (Read: A place on the opposite end of the yard where you can tell your toddler to go "climb" when you need him to not knock over your igloo walls in their infancy.)

Took up residency in our new home.

Complete with fab light fixtures:

And very, very chic seating.

After dinner, we Skyped family and friends from inside our new home while sipping hot cocoa and declaring we'd moved to the North Pole (where one has easy access to technology).

Made and happily devoured maple syrup snow taffy for desert at dusk.

Went baby sledding just past dusk.

Built a carrot-nosed snow mommy and snow baby in the dark.

And then climbed back inside the igloo.

Awesome day. Super fun. Strangely tired. Good Ni----ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

**********

This post is comprised of phone and camcorder pictures. Sorry. My camera is broke-ed-ed-ed. We are working on getting it fixed.

:(

The sad face didn't fully convey my anguish...

Hysterical wailing. Hair pulling. Teeth gnashing.

There. More accurate.