I didn’t start asking Noah to do MD photos until 2009, but I found photos of me and the girls before then, starting only at 2005, somewhere around May-ish. Before then, I don’t have a digital copy of a photo of me and Kaylie, and my scanner is broken. So. Anyway.

Oh! Before I show you the photos of me and the kids over the years, in keeping with the MD theme, I’ll show you a couple of me and my mom. The first is a photo that my Aunt Jane sent me, which I also posted here. The second –of me, my mom, and my sister Erica — is from last summer, when I went to BC for my Opa’s funeral.

1983:

2011:

photo by Chelsey Poelman

And now, the photos of me and the kids. We did photos again this year and … it didn’t go awesome. Getting three kids to look in the general direction of the camera is harder than you’d think. I didn’t even care about smiling. Just LOOK AT THE CAMERA. It’s all good, though. I never expect perfect photos when it comes to kids. And plus, reality is much better.

2005:

photo by my mom (I think)

2006:

photo by Randee Armstrong

2007:

I’d just given birth. Not that you can tell or anything. (HA!)

2008:

photo by Teresa Braam

2009:

photo by Noah (and all the one ones following) (two-year-olds are fun!)

2010:

this is one of my very favourite photos. i love the contrast the red roses give.

2011:

2012:

take one. Preston is not impressed with the whole sitting down thing. and he was sticking that gun in his mouth the very wrong way.

while Preston walked around, I got some photos done with each of the girls, just in case the whole me-and-three-kids thing didn’t work out. i really like this one of me and Kaylie, but it would be a lot better without Liliana’s photobomb.

that’s better

this kid. so much stress, so much laughter.

i bribed him with a bit of nursing and he finally came over for a photo. he’s such a goober.

take four thousand one hundred and fifty-two. this is the best we’re gonna get.

That little “who to follow” section on Twitter usually annoys me, but earlier I saw Raffi there and was taken back 20 years. Baby Beluga? Oh Mister Sun? Down By The Bay? RAFFI! So I followed him. A couple minutes later my phone beeped its twitter reply beep. When I checked it, I saw this:

HOLY CRAP! Raffi @replied ME! HE KNOWS I EXIST! Holy star-struck-ness, Batman!

Now what did my profile say? It said, “I’m not a very nice person.” Why did it say that? Because I hate writing bios and I was feeling especially self-deprecating that day. And because I have a sarcasm problem.

Oh, nothing, just a little Twitter conversation with Raffi. NBD.

I then played Raffi songs for the kids for the next couple hours. Preston loves them. He was walking around with my iPhone (on which the songs were playing) with a giant smile on his face, doing little squat-bounces, which are his super-sweet dance moves.

I also texted my husband and called my mom. And freaked out on Facebook. Can you believe some friends don’t/didn’t know who Raffi is? UNFRIENDED!

*~*

my first 29th birthday
“Mama, how old are you today?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“What comes after 29?”
“DEATH.”

Okay, I didn’t say “death”. I said “thirty” and then I got momentarily depressed. I used to think 30-year-old people were old. I no longer think so, as I have good friends who are in their thirties, forties, and even fifties and I do not consider them “old”. (Unless they tease me about being old in which case I remind that person that he is twenty-six years older than me and is now considered a senior in some places, not mentioning any names, RUSSELL.)

But when it comes to me, my age, I can’t comprehend it. I’ve heard people say that lame cliché all the time, “But I don’t feel 30!” Yea … I just graduated high school, did I not? Um … 11 years ago. HOLY CRAP HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?

I don’t like birthdays. Why? I don’t like attention. I know, what am I doing writing a public blog if I don’t like attention? Well, I have a social phobia, and it’s not like I’m on stage reading my posts to you. I get to hide behind my computer screen. I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of person. My wedding? Standing in front of 200 or so people? ANXIETY HELL. So, I hide my birthday on Facebook and I don’t advertise it anywhere (until after the fact, I guess, which I am doing now). And then I get in trouble from friends who were like, I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS YOUR BIRTHDAY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME? And they are the sweetest people ever. As are the ones who force Happy Birthdays on me and make my day bright. I got happy birthdays from everyone in my family, and that is quite lovely. I like my family.

Noah booked his parents to watch the kids and took me out. He forced me to have a good time. We had dinner, we shopped with my fortune of birthday money (new clothes! for the first time in years!), we saw Five-Year Engagement (hilarious, but could do without the awkwardly inappropriate sex scenes), we picked up our baby (and left the girls for a sleepover), and we went home. And then Noah went back out and got me ice cream. Because he rules. All in all? A pretty rad birthday. Even for someone who doesn’t like birthdays.

And I got to talk to my brother who I rarely talk to because I suck at big-sistering and he’s a pretty neat guy. And then my phone died mid-conversation. Sorry about that, Nick.

*~*

the death of Jeff
I read this post of Dooce’s a couple days ago. It’s about a man named Jeff who suffered from bi-polar disorder. He saw no way out and he took his own life. He wrote a final post, because he cared about his cats and didn’t want to not be found for too long, and then he was gone. On his about page, he described himself as “someone who cares”. He cared, but he thought there was not a single person in the world who cared about him.

My heart was so, so heavy after reading that. I’ve been there. I’ve never attempted suicide, but I’ve googled fail-proof suicide methods. I’ve planned what I would say in the note to my kids. I’ve tried to decide how to make the “clean-up” easiest on the person who discovered my body. I remember the last time I felt that way, in December of 2010, and I never want to feel that way ever again. It sucks to be that low, and I’m so sad that this Jeff guy felt like nobody cared. My only hope is that his death is not in vain, that his story causes someone to snap out of their depressive funk and sees that they are worth it. That they have value. That someone does care.

*~*

the cover of TIME magazine
Have you seen this?

image courtesy of TIME

I used to think that nursing past a year was a long time, that it was kind of odd. Now that I nurse a one-year-old, I don’t find it the least bit odd. Funny how that happens. I went to a breastfeeding “support group” when Kaylie was teeny tiny and the women there kind of freaked me out. I was nursing a seven-pound newborn and one lady was nursing a giant three-year-old. I don’t remember what the conversation was about, but I do know that I never went back.

Now here’s my stance on breastfeeding: Do What Works For You. Don’t like nursing, or cannot nurse? Fine! Formula is not poison. Formula-fed babies can grow up to be healthy geniuses and exclusively-breastfed babies can grow up to be unhealthy highschool-dropouts. Want to only nurse for a couple months? Fine! Some breastmilk is better than no breastmilk. Want to nurse in public? Fine! I eat in public, your baby should be allowed to, too. Want to nurse until your kid is three? Fine! Just because I think it would be weird for me to nurse that long doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to do it. Want to nurse until your kid is nine? Um, you were that lady on that extreme-parenting show, weren’t you?

When I first saw the Time cover (Noah emailed it to me in the early morning), I thought the kid was about six. A little … old? I dunno. Apparently he is only three (turning four next month). It’s obviously a shock-value extreme-parenting thing that TIME is doing and something that will sell magazines (good work, TIME, I totally want a copy now), but there is no way I’d want myself on the cover of a magazine while breastfeeding, no matter what age my child is.

Jamie Lynne Grumet, the woman on the cover, said, “People have to realize this is biologically normal. It’s not socially normal. The more people see it, the more it’ll become normal in our culture. That’s what I’m hoping. I want people to see it.” I think she got her wish. Lots of people have seen and will see it.

*~*

This week’s Canadian Family post: 5 Essentials for a Kid-Friendly Road Trip

*~*

Friday. FRIDAY! It’s F.R.I.D.A.Y! I like Fridays.

Preston has been sleeping in my and Noah’s bedroom since we brought him home. Noah’s been wanting Preston’s crib moved out, but I haven’t been ready. He still nurses a couple times at night and having him in a different room was just not logically logistic. (Say that five times fast.) Yesterday, though, I decided it was time.

We live in a three-bedroom house. The girls share a bedroom, there is a play room, and then our bedroom. The original idea was for Liliana and Preston to share a bedroom, but we just can’t trust Liliana alone with her baby brother. The girls don’t like sleeping alone, so they moved in together a couple months ago. All three kids’ clothes are in their sleeping room and there’s usually a play pen in there anyway for Kesler to sleep in, so I figured it made the most sense to just have all three kids sleeping in there and keep the play room just for toys.

So last night was Preston’s first night in with his sisters. It went relatively well. The girls didn’t notice when he woke, and he was up the same amount of times as he usually is. I haven’t talked about sleep-training in a while, as it’s kind of at a stand-still. Preston still goes to bed at about 6pm and he doesn’t get nursed until after midnight. He wakes 1-2 times before then, but it takes only a couple minutes to put him back to sleep.

I usually leave my bedroom door closed at night, but last night I made Noah keep it open. I had to be able to hear my boy when he woke. It’s weird having him so far away, but it’s also kind of nice to be able to go into my room at night without having to be so silent and paranoid of waking Preston. I don’t believe in the phrase “never wake a sleeping baby”, but I sure believe in “never wake a sleeping toddler”.

I know this whole parenting thing is about training our kids to be independent (and honest and kind and generous and all that jazz), it’s just so much harder with my baby. My last baby. And it’s all going too fast.

This week is kicking my butt. All five of us have had a cough for weeks now. I’m so sick of constantly saying, “Cover your mouth!” “Cough away from people!” “Did you cover your mouth?” “DON’T COUGH RIGHT ON THE FOOD!” I finally took the kids to the clinic on Tuesday and both girls have ear infections and are on antibiotics. I’m on them as well, for what I was told is a sinus infection, but what I’m 99% sure is just the allergies I’ve suffered from for the last bazillion years. Kaylie’s had the cough the longest and is on different antibiotics this time. Expensive ones. Noah was literally speechless when I told him how much the drugs were. Thank God (literally) for prescription coverage.

Preston’s been teething (AGAIN)(13th and 14th teeth) and just popped through his bottom left canine, with his bottom right one about to pop through. These teeth have given him even more trouble than his molars did. Drool and whining are aplenty.

I’ve been training for the 10k at the end of the month and doing my cleaning job on my spare evenings and Saturdays and hanging out with babies all day and every time I turn around it’s Thursday again (here’s my Canadian Family article this week: Clearly Organized Bags: An Easy Way to Corral Your Child’s Toys) and some weeks I live for Sundays, the day we have absolutely nothing work-related going on.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy all the previously-mentioned things (save for the teething and coughing), but sometimes I can’t keep up. I get annoyed that I can’t stay on top of stuff at home and Noah keeps telling me not to worry about it and he takes care of so much. He does the dishes and the laundry and the bathroom and he vacuums and he bathes the kids and puts them to bed and I’m so thankful he does so much. I’ve been going to bed too late and I’ve been exhausted all day. I know things will get better when I get into a routine with everything, I just have to get there.

This week has been extra crazy with super-fun stuff like hanging out with Ugandan kids and having a visit from my friend Matt. We’ve been good friends since high school and a while ago he messaged me to say that he was coming through and was thinking of stopping by for a visit. I haven’t seen him in about eight years, so I was quite looking forward to it. I absolutely love it when people I know come through town because it’s so rare. It’s nice to see a familiar face once in a while, you know?

I found this photo of us in Grade 11 on a band trip in Whistler, with our friend Tom:

Nice ski-goggle tan, Matty.

He hasn’t changed a bit and he said that I haven’t either, besides the thing about being married and adding two more kids. And, you know, I thought he was here to visit me until he and Noah hit it off and started ganging up on me. Those bullies. It’s a good thing I CAN DEFEND MYSELF and throw a few punches right back at them. Go watch your hockey. I DON’T EVEN CARE.

The girls totally enjoyed having Matt visit and made him play video games with them. He said he now understands all the Liliana quotes I put up on Facebook. Preston kept his distance, as he usually does with most people, but finally gave Matt a few smiles.

I just got a Facebook message from another (also-formerly-from-Terrace) friend who is going to be in town on May Long, and her message totally made my day.

In less-fun stuff, I’ve battled nightmares on and off for the last couple years and last night I had a pretty harsh one. The nightmares are extremely vivid and based on real-life deep hurts, so they always leave me in a deep funk in the morning. Last night I had a particularly horrid one and this morning sucked. I wish I could just shrug nightmares off, but they are unforgiving.

Both girls had the day off school and had a really hard time BEING QUIET while the babies were sleeping. Granted, one baby slept for three hours and the other for two (I checked on them numerous times to make sure they were STILL BREATHING, as they usually sleep for about an hour), so it was a long time to BE QUIET AND NOT FIGHT, but when Noah called around 11am, I was at the end of my rope. He came home for lunch, brought me a coffee, and then freed me of both girls for the afternoon.

The boys finally woke up and ate great for lunch. I wiped them down, took them out of their high chairs, and went to make sure the playroom was baby-friendly after the girls were in there. I then walked into the living room to find Preston holding my (now cooled and almost-but-not-completely empty) coffee cup upside-down. He and Kesler were stomping the puddle of coffee into the carpet. It’s a good thing the carpet is brown.

I’m so glad today is Friday. I love weekends so, SO much.

Today you turn five years old. You have been looking forward to your birthday every single day since your last birthday, asking how many more months, how many more days. You love attention and you love to celebrate. You have more self confidence than anyone I have ever met.

Your birth day was such a great day, the best day your Daddy and I ever had up to that point. You were born nine days past your estimated due date, at 10:31pm, weighing eight pounds and seven ounces. Your Daddy and your Grannie were there to witness your birth. Your Daddy was so excited to meet you that he was literally jumping up and down when Dr. A said “Ten centimetres, time to push!”

You came out and Dr. A put you on my chest. I loved you immediately. You let out a cry and I almost did, too. You were perfect.

Big Papi and Miss Sue and Pappa and Auntie Erica came to see you before we’d even left the delivery room.

I was so glad your Grannie was there to help us and to photograph your first hours.

Your big sister was sleeping when you were born, so she came to visit you the next morning. She was so excited to meet you.

When I was pregnant with you, I told Kaylie that she was going to be your very favorite person in the whole world, and she is. You love to be everywhere Kaylie is and you love to do everything Kaylie is doing.

You are a sensitive girl, Liliana. You do not like to have anyone mad at you or raise their voice at you. You are stubborn and you like your own way, though, so sometimes things get a little messy around here. You don’t like to see other people hurting, and you are quick to give someone a hug or a snuggle.

You have long blond hair and you do not want to get it cut at all because you do not want to have no hair like Daddy. I tried to convince you that we’d only get it cut a little bit, because you cry every time I brush it, but you want to keep it long and that is just fine with me. You have beautiful bouncy curls and I’d be sad if they were gone.

one year

You love peanut butter sandwiches. You’d rather have a peanut butter sandwich than anything else we could offer you. You don’t like tomatoes, and you don’t like potatoes because “potatoes” sounds like “tomatoes”.

You say the most hilarious things. I try to write it all down, but I only catch a fraction of your hilarity. Your Pre-K teacher, Mrs. R, told me that you have more personality in your pinky finger than ten adults combined. You are outgoing and friendly and you make friends quickly. If someone is around that is your age, they are automatically your friend.

two years

You love to take care of people, especially your little brother. You’re working hard on learning to be gentle and you love to babysit Preston while I cook dinner or if I have to leave the room for a minute.

You are smart. You are already reading quite a bit without us teaching you at all. You love to read and you love to be read to. You love to be read to even more than you love your DS, which right now, is quite a lot. You catch on quickly and you have an incredible memory. You love school and you are very sad whenever there is a holiday on a school day.

three years

You love to be pretty. Every single day you want to wear a skirt or a dress so that you can be pretty. I try to explain to you that you are pretty even if you wear pants, but you will hear none of it. You also like to dress up, most often like a princess. And speaking of princesses, for the longest time you were convinced that your name was Liliana Wilson Pony Princess, and that is how you would introduce yourself.

You love to swim, you love to be outside, and you love ballet. You want to dance all the time, especially if someone is watching you. You want to be involved in anything anyone else is doing. There is never a dull moment with you around.

four years

Last night I spent quite a few hours blowing up balloons and decorating the house with them, because you love balloons and your birthday is a Big Deal to you. You surveyed the house and loved your balloons and then said to me, “Mama, did you forget the party hats?” You then asked if I was ever going to sing Happy Birthday to you, which I was planning on doing, but you’d gotten up 30 seconds earlier and I just hadn’t had the chance yet. You say what is on your mind and I love that about you.

I asked you what you’d like for your birthday dinner and you said, “Peanut butter sandwiches. But something different for lunch.” Well, little girl, you can have a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. That is just fine with me.

five years

Happy 5th Birthday, baby girl.

ps. You are a goober.

Sleep-training is going well. I took a little break for a couple days because Preston had a very stuffy nose and was having trouble breathing. I didn’t want to add crying to the mix. For the last couple nights, though, he has only been waking twice to nurse, at about 1am-ish and about 4am-ish. He still wakes at 10pm, but it takes only a couple minutes to go back to sleep, the time getting shorter and shorter each night.

(This is where I say that, right after writing this, he woke up and went right back to sleep at 10pm. And then he woke again at 10:30 and IS STILL AWAKE AN HOUR LATER snuggling with his dad and NOT SLEEPING.)(Never write about how well your kid is sleeping. It will come back to bite you.)

I usually leave Preston with Noah on Saturdays when I bring the girls to their activities, but Noah had been and would be on kid duty so much on the weekend because I was cleaning (more on that below) and doing sound for a wedding that I took Preston with me so that Noah could have a break, but also so that I could spend a little time with my boy.

Preston had a blast in one of the empty studios (the dude loves mirrors) and I spent a bazillion dollars on tickets to Liliana’s recital. It’s incredible how much parents pay to see their kid do a three-minute dance. Silly sucker-ish parents.

I took the babies on the trampoline for the first time today. The girls had been on it after Noah put it up on Saturday, but due to the snow they hadn’t been on it since. The girls (begrudgingly) were very careful while the boys were on it. They loved it. I wasn’t sure how they’d do, but they took to it instantly. They fell down constantly, but they are determined little dudes and they were up on their feet in an instant.

Today was the first time that Kesler wasn’t too keen on going home. Usually he’s quite excited to see his dad, but today the excitement was short-lived because he wanted to keep playing. I’m pretty sure we’ll be spending a lot of time outside this spring/summer. I love that our trampoline has a net around it so that it’s baby-friendly. It’s weird, though, how cautious kids stuff is now. When I was a kid, most of the trampolines I jumped on didn’t even have mats over the springs, much less a protective net preventing us from falling off.

Having two babies around is HOLY CRAP SO MUCH WORK AND SO BUSY but it’s also so much fun. I love watching the two boys follow each other around, laughing and crying. They steal each others’ toys, they grab each other from behind and pull each other down, and they talk and yell and giggle. Thankfully, they nap at the same time (mostly).

Because I was bored (ha!), I took on a cleaning contract. It’s only about 20 hours a week (less in the summer, more in the winter) and I can do it whenever I want, as long as certain things are done by certain times. Kaylie has helped me a couple times and she’s at the age where she’s more help than hindrance.

I don’t regret for a single second not going back to my pre-Preston jobs, because to go back to them would mean putting the kids in daycare and I am not willing to do that. (Not that I have a problem with daycare in general, but I’m doing everything I can to be mentally healthy, and right now, daycare would eviscerate that.) I sometimes go a little nutty in the hours after I pick up Kaylie and before I pick up Noah, but it’s totally worth it.

I’ve always been a do-what-needs-to-be-done kind of person, and this is what needs to be done. It’s a perfect-for-me scenario in that I get to spend my days with my little kids, a couple evenings a week one-on-one with my big kid, I don’t have any set hours, I don’t have to deal with the public (hello, anxiety!), and we’re able to, you know, pay for stuff. Like ballet tickets and new bikes for growing kids and seeing my family this summer.

Now excuse me while I put my one-year-old back to bed at 11:30pm because instead of snuggling with Daddy he is now wreaking havoc, as a one-year-old is wont to do. And be ye not so stupid as to write about how well your child is sleeping.

*~* Miss Liliana lost her first tooth yesterday, on Preston’s first birthday. It’s been loose for weeks and yesterday when I saw that her new tooth was growing in, I was determined to pull her loose one out. I don’t want the new one growing in crooked. I tugged on it a bit and it was hurting her. Liliana has a very low threshold for pain and she was FREAKING OUT. So I bribed her. I told her if she let me pull her tooth out, I would give her a present. It took a while for me to convince her.

I’d picked up a new Twilight Sparkle pony for her a couple weeks back when her tooth was first loose and intended to use it as a Tooth Fairy gift. But, instead I used it as bribery. (She got a Twilight Sparkle about a year ago for Christmas and she lost it recently and she has missed it. I did what I said I wouldn’t do and I bought her a new one. You only lose your first tooth once, right?) I sat on the couch and laid her head on my lap. I got a little piece of paper towel, gripped her tooth the best I could, and pulled hard and fast. And it came out! Liliana cried for a bit and was grossed out by the blood, but quickly she was VERY excited and got to show Big Papi when he came to get Kaylie for a lunch date.

Tooth-losing doesn’t bother me a bit. The wiggling, the pulling, the blood, meh. No big deal. The big deal is remembering to do the whole Tooth Fairy Thing. Kaylie’s tooth fairy forgot often and sometimes she felt really bad and gave up more cash than is necessary for a little tooth. Liliana’s tooth fairy was a little more on top of it and left her about fifty cents. Liliana was ECSTATIC because she got MONEY. Liliana loves money and is constantly asking for MONEY and WHY CAN’T I HAVE ANY MONEY, MAMA?! (We’re working on her.)

*~* Related to the whole tooth fairy thing, here is today’s Canadian Family post: Does Your Tooth Fairy Have a Pillow?

*~* Sleep-training hasn’t gone too well the last couple nights. Preston’s got a very stuffy nose and I took pity on him and fed him at his 10pm wakening for Night Five and Night Six. He’s still sniffly tonight, so we’ll see how it goes.

*~* I really hate birthday parties. I hate throwing them, and I hate having them for myself. I blame my mother. (Hi, Mom!) The first one I had for Kaylie was when she was in Grade One. It was stressful. So were the ones after that. Last year, for her 10th birthday, I told her that if she invited just one friend, she could do any two things she wanted. (She chose a movie and Fuddruckers.) So, for Preston’s first birthday, it was mostly just like any other day. But with cake. And lots of people saying Happy Birthday to him.

(video is silent)

click here if you cannot see the video

Preston had a bath immediately following that cake.

Liliana’s birthday is in 13 sleeps, and that day will be a little more elaborate. I’m thinking I might actually do some of those things I pinned with rainbow balloons and such. Something inexpensive that she will love. Since the guy at the Fido booth told her that he couldn’t decorate the entire mall for her birthday. A one-year-old doesn’t understand it’s his birthday, whereas a certain almost-five-year-old has been looking forward to her fifth birthday since the day after her fourth birthday. Literally.

And now it is almost 9pm and I’m about to crawl into some freshly-laundered sheets. Is there anything better than clean sheets? I think not. (Well, besides going to bed at 9pm.)

One year ago today, at 3:21pm, after only two or so hours of active labour, Mr. Preston Liam Grant Wilson was born weighing 9 lbs, 14 oz and measuring 22 inches.

I know it’s such a cliché to say, but I really can’t believe it’s been a year already. Preston has brought us so much joy and happiness, it is nearly impossible to imagine our lives without him. Sometimes I just sit and watch him and have a hard time believing he’s here with us, that we get to have him here with us.

one month

He was strong from Day One and has always been independent but cuddly. He loves to be outside and go for walks. He is mischievous and enjoys emptying the tupperware cupboard the moment he steps into the kitchen.

two months

He walks, he says a word or two, and he has 12 teeth. He babbles and shakes his head and is not afraid of sharing his opinion. He naps twice a day and is working on sleeping through the night.

three months

He likes to play with balls and anything that has wheels. He loves to rid containers of their contents. He is not afraid to get dirty.

four months

Preston loves his sisters and wants to follow them wherever they go. He shakes his head “no” when asked any question, whether it’s “Do you want to go to bed?” or “Do you want to play with your sister’s favourite toy?” or “Are you a turdball?”

five months

He loves to read books, eat books, and rip books of the shelf. He does not yet understand the meaning of the word “no”. Either that or he’s smart enough to pretend that he doesn’t know the meaning of the word “no”.

six months

He has hazel eyes, just like mine, that are green on the outside and brown on the inside. His fiery red hair gets comments and compliments everywhere we go. He has sticky-outy ears that I just adore.

seven months

He likes to walk around with something in each hand, usually a car or a remote or a toy that his sisters have accidentally left in his reach.

eight months

Preston likes pretty much all foods, especially the ones you are currently eating. If he has finger foods, he will sweep his hand across his tray when he is finished, flinging his leftovers to the floor. We’re working on this.

nine months

He is still nursing and I have no plans to wean him. (Not that I’ll never wean him, just that I haven’t given it any thought yet.) He doesn’t have the whole tipping part of the sippy cup figured out yet, which isn’t a huge deal because he doesn’t use one very often anyway.

ten months

Preston is a mama’s boy (just like his daddy) and does not like it if anyone gets in his personal bubble. He will lay his head on my shoulder or chest if I am holding him and someone looks at him. That being said, he sure likes chasing and being chased by Noah and thinks that his sisters are just the funniest people on the planet.

eleven months

It is almost impossible to get a shot of this boy in which he is both looking in my direction and not blurry. He moves too darn fast.

twelve months

Preston has changed so much in the past year, and I know he won’t stop and before I know it he’ll be graduating. I can’t even think about it. But, if every year with him is as fantastic as this last year has been, I have a lot to look forward to.

Happy Birthday, little man.

Noah told me Monday night that we were expected to receive many inches of snow. I didn’t think too much of it, as the weather man is nearly always wrong, but Tuesday morning he called me after his morning Bible study and suggested that the kids and I stay home because the predicted snow did come and the roads were very dangerous. I was on-board completely, and called the girls’ schools to tell them that they would be Wilson-kid free today. While the girls watched the Sound of Music (I lifted Liliana’s TV ban for the morning, as she was very disappointed about missing school), I caught up on photo editing. I’ve been using my Canon a lot more recently, and I sure missed it.

The snow is so pretty. I’m not a big fan of bitterly cold temperatures (which we’ve mostly avoided this year, thankfully) or winter driving, but I am a fan of having lots of snow — it’s so beautiful.

I spent most of Saturday and Sunday switching the girls’ rooms around. I’d had the idea of having one bedroom and one playroom for a while, but was waiting for Kaylie to be on board with it. The girls had been sleeping in the same room anyway, as neither likes to sleep alone. I hadn’t asked Kaylie about it for a couple months, but on Saturday she was excited about it.

Preston “helped” and was stoked to be where he’s usually not allowed.

I didn’t know exactly how I wanted the rooms to look, so I just dove in and hoped for the best. I knew I wanted to have somewhere for Kaylie to put her special things, out of reach of Liliana, and I wanted a place for Liliana’s special things as well. When we lived in the two-bedroom apartment in Regina, I stacked their dressers so that they’d still have space to play. I decided to do the same again, not to save space, but to have a higher shelf for Kaylie.

I moved a bookshelf from Kaylie’s (former) room to the master bedroom, for Noah’s books. I’m all about getting rid of stuff instead of making room for more stuff — except when it comes to books. You can never have took many books. I’m probably going to be one of the last people in the world to get a kindle or nook or whatever kind of digital book reader thingy. I prefer the real thing. I’m pretty sure Noah feels the same way since getting new books is pretty much his favourite thing, so much so that he needs a bookshelf all to himself.

Since there was now space on the living room bookshelf, I moved all the girls’ books out there. I cleaned out Kaylie’s closet and moved all her and Preston’s clothes into Liliana’s closet. Thankfully, the closets in this house are quite spacious, although I really hate the closet doors. They slide back and forth and prevent the closet from being fully open. It’s quite annoying. #FirstWorldProblem #DiamondShoes

Eventually I will move Preston into the kids’ bedroom as well, but not until he sleeps for longer than two-hour stretches. (Something we will be working on during the girls’ Easter break, when I don’t have to be anywhere at any set time.) (And when he isn’t pushing through two molars, like he is right now.)

The girls kept themselves occupied, excitedly watching me switch stuff from room to room.

Liliana had a bunk bed in her room, where she was sleeping on the top bunk. She wanted to switch to the bottom, which was completely fine with Kaylie who wanted the top anyway. We’ve played musical beds many times in the last four years that switching beds wasn’t anything abnormal to them.

Once in a while, the girls exceed my expectations in how well they can get along. Kaylie let Liliana up on her bunk to play and it was huge to Liliana. Even though hours earlier the top bunk had been hers, the fact that it was now Kaylie’s and she was allowed up there totally made Liliana’s day.

I’m mostly done with the rooms, and I’ll post photos when they are completely completed. So far, the room sharing is going well, except that the girls don’t go to sleep until later than usual. The best part is that both rooms have been kept clean all week — the girls have been cleaning up after themselves (with a little prompting). It’s a March Miracle.

I started my new job this past week — carer of Kesler. It’s going really well so far. Mr. K is a mere 20 days older than Mr. P, and they’re nearly identical in regards to milestones. It’s funny how having double the babies makes quadruple the work. It’s fun, though. Kesler is a total ham. The hardest part is getting them to and from the van. In the morning, Kaylie helps me by taking one baby there, and then when we pick her up, she helps by taking one baby back inside. I only have to do it a couple times by myself, and I will not be sad when the boys start walking outside. You try unlocking a vehicle door the old-fashioned way while carrying 25lbs of baby boy on each hip.

They’ve been napping at almost the same time every day, which is pretty rad. Preston’s crib is still in my room, and I set up a pack-n-play for Kesler in the girls’ room — there are two walls and two doors separating them, and so far, they have not woken each other up.

Preston is quite the mama’s boy (just like his daddy) and does not like it when I am holding Kesler. He starts to cry and then crawls or walks over to me to be held, too.

Both girls absolutely love playing with the babies, but Liliana is still working on being gentle. She totally body-slammed Preston today. On purpose. She wasn’t looking to hurt him, but she doesn’t yet understand that babies are BABIES.

I don’t regret for a moment quitting my job(s) to stay home and hang out with babies all day. There is nothing else I’d rather do. Although a day at a poop-free spa might be nice once in a while.

Mid-morning on Tuesday, the snow day, the girls asked to go outside. The wind was still a bit blowy, but I bundled them up tight and sent them out. There’s no way I’m saying no to a kid who wants to play outside (unless it is really unsafe). They’ve been inside so much lately that they need to expel some energy somehow. I went out to take photos of their snow playing, but the snow was up to my knees and I was in capri sweats and winter boots, and, well, I’m a wimp and I didn’t like the feeling of snow coming into my boots. I took a few photos and ran back inside. Had I not a baby who needed looking after, I would have bundled up more and played out there with them. I love huge snowfalls (when I don’t have to leave the house).

They were covered in snow, but so happy when they finally came inside. They had so much fun that they went out again when Noah came home, to “help” him shovel the driveway.

I had a couple birthday cheques I was saving for a new lens and I finally cashed them a bit ago because I finally found a fun affordable lens. (Sorry, family members who finally saw that on their bank statements.)

I got this one from Photojojo. I opened the box from the bottom (the shipping label was on top covered in thick annoying plastic), and out popped a dinosaur. I thought it was odd, and also kind of cool. I didn’t notice until afterward that there was this sticker on the side of the box:

Photojojo is awesome.

Liliana saw the dinosaur when she got home from school and accused me of stealing one of her dinosaurs. I showed her the sticker on the box and tried to get her to say stow-away-asaurus. I’m not sure yet if she believed me or not that I didn’t steal one of her dinosaurs. Oh well. I steal dinosaurs from four-year-olds for kicks.

I even went so far as to take a self-portrait with my fancy new lens, just so that you know that I exist and I’m not making all this stuff up.

Or am I?

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Oh, and if you’re interested, here is my Canadian Family post from this week:
How to Cut Diapering Costs: The Case for Going Cloth
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He’s up to about 20 or so steps in a row now and he is so happy with himself.

Babies are so unboring.