It's a bird...It's a plane...It's Chase in a plane!

Chase has been finding ways to entertain himself while I pack. Here is a brief list of his most recent diversions: tearing up toilet paper into eensy teensy little scraps that he leaves lying on the floor, emptying cabinets and drawers, pulling Iverson's hair, and attempting to eat any treasure he happens to find lying on the floor including, but not limited to, dryer lint. Accordingly, his new favorite word is "Uh-Oh".

This is what my baby used to look like..

He looks nothing like that anymore. Isn't that weird? And isn't odd that the little bugger is almost a year old already? Invites went out today for his year one bash...don't expect a lot since I'm in the throes of moving as we speak. Which reminds me...this is what I feel like right now:

Seriously, is it Friday yet? Have the movers come and magically transported everything I own over to the new house? Thank goodness tomorrow is ladies night cause I sure need a break. I've already hidden all of the scissors in the house, so I'm good.

Just thought you'd want to know

that "Kate & Allie" reruns are on WE at 7pm. I used to love Kate & Allie. I am currently laughing my butt off at the eighties fashions that Kate is wearing. Who invented those lovely bright plastic hair clips and then decided that if those fluorescent clips were attached at the top of one's head it would be an attractive look? And how dumb were all of use who ran out and bought tons of those lovely hair accessories? Those were the days man, those were the days.

Icy cold water on a windy day? Sure why not.

Chase is an outdoor kid with a bit of a fearless streak to him. A true boy to be sure. Evidence to this fact was presented during Joshua's birthday party, he was the only one under 2 that was unfazed by the icy pool water. In fact, while the other little ones cried and clung to their mothers, our young Chase was in his element. Even the guests who didn't know us were commenting on his daringness as he chased the older kids and crawled from pool, to sprinkler and back into the pool again. They even came up with their own nickname for him: Little Surfer Dude. I think it fits.

Look Mama, I'm a seal. Arck Arck!

This is the most fun I've ever had!

Come on over guys...the water's fine!

Do you know what really bugs me?

Businesses with double door entries that leave one of the doors locked. I mean really--what is the point of leaving one door locked? If you're going to leave it locked all of the time, why do you have two doors? Why not just one instead of having one working door and one wannabe wall? Do the managers sit in the back and laugh at everyone who tries to open the locked door? I really think that we need to get busy and write some letters--let's start a revolution! Plus, this has to be some sort of fire code violation. Just imagine if there was a need to evacuate the building quickly. I can just envision a stampede of customers thinking they were headed for an exit and instead forming a blob o'smushed people against the useless locked door. The morning news could report on the event and all of the store owners could explain why they thought it was good idea to have a door that the building's inhabitants could have used to exit the burning inferno instead become a barricade to their safety. Or how about we avoid this whole scenario and you just unlock the damn door? Just a thought.

Saga of the Sippy Cup: Part I

Since that monumental occasion known has birthday number one is fast approaching, we have been taking steps to ease Chase's transition from formula to milk. You see, at year one, the bottle has to go per doctor's orders. For the last couple of months, we've been giving the monkey sippy cups filled with water and juice, but he's never really been interested enough in the contents to figure out how to actually obtain the liquid from the cup. So, we've decided to try to give Chase some of his formula in the sippy cup thinking that if he's hungry enough, he'll figure out how to get the nourishment out from its entrapment. Let's just say that lil noodle is not too keen on this new strategy of ours.

Today started out so promising as his father got him to drink 6 whole ounces from the plastic cup during his midmorning feeding. So, I thought that the afternoon feeding would go as smoothly. Chase had other plans. He threw the tantrum to rival all tantrums. Screaming and tossing the dreaded cup to the side were just the beginning. He followed those tricks with a display that was so calculated, I am almost certain that he had help from some devious co-conspirator. He would cry and then put his head down as if he couldn't bear to look at the evilness that was his mother trying to feed him via the cute little tumbler instead of his normal glass bottle. When, I tried to set the cup in front of him, he would turn away from it and continue his bowed head pose while pitiful crocodile tears rolled down his red cheeks.

Being the caring mother I am, I decided that this moment must be recorded for use during future dating rituals. As I was snapping away, he suddenly realized the blackmail material I was creating and thus, his mood did a complete 180. He started laughing and babbling, and he even went so far as to pick up that dreaded goblet and pretend to drink from it. However, as soon as the camera was put away, the sneaky little bugger went right back to his crying fit. 30 minutes later, I caved and let him have the darn bottle. I have no backbone.

And before you start in on me, yes I know that the sippy cup is pink and that he is a boy and that boys don't like pink. I had no choice really as when I went to Target with the sole mission of obtaining every transitional sippy cup known to man that particular brand was only available in lovely shades of pink and purple. Of course it's my luck that of the umpteen sippies I purchased, that is the one that he is most likely to actually attempt using. I really don't think he'll be scarred for life, although his daddy may be.

Oh..I can't bear to look at you Mama. How can you be so cruel??

That cup better be gone when I look up Mama.

No crying here...see....I'm happy. Love my sippy cup, love it!

Camera's gone, time to return to my hysterical fit.

Noodle's weekend at the lake

Tell me again why I can't eat the rocks Grandpa.



Check out these funky retro toys Grandpa found for me to play with!



I'm not so sure about this Mama...




I like it, I do I really do!




Are you still back there Mama?



Time to go back to the house...too bad!

Cabinet Raiders and My New Love

Just a few pictures to show off Chase's latest skill of kitchen reorganization. He is so talented at this latest endeavor that I am sure that he will soon be on HGTV's Mission Organization and all of you can sit back and say you knew him way back before he was famous.



Also included into today's update is a picture of my latest obsession. Is anyone surprised that it is a purse? Some things never change.

Bubbles Bubbles

Chase got to pretend to be in his Bubbles Bubbles book on Monday. This feat of make believe was made possible by his friend Joshua who had found a little troll and put him under a spell. While held captive by the sorcery, the little demon was forced to continually shoot magic bubbles at the young children. The poor indentured troll could not be freed from his bewitchment until all of the children had felt true joy and thus smiled at his antics. As you can see, my little man was going to make that troll work for his freedom.




I will figure out your secret ole bubble spitter, and only then will I grant you the smile that will set you free. (insert wicked laugh here)

Why can't I take it with me?

I have decided that I want to bring the pond when we move to the new house. I don't see anything unreasonable about this request, do you?

Scissors + Drew = Trouble

Recent days have proven to be a bit trying as Chase has been a giant cranky pants with the appetite of a grown man to boot. I am not kidding when I say that he has increased his formula intake by 50% these last couple of days. If I'm just a couple of minutes late with his new feeding schedule, he starts clutching at his shirt and screaming as if the hunger is eating a hole the size of Chicago in his stomach. It has been exhausting, and at the end of the day, I hand the child off to his father and proceed to watch tv and stuff my face with chocolate until I have fallen into a sugar induced stupor.
So needless to say, I was much looking forward to having dinner with my girlfriends this week. While I was out inhaling the child free air as if I'd never had a breath before, events were unfolding at our house that would forever change the Noodle. Ok...not forever, but for a month at least. You see, since we think the crankies may be caused by incoming teeth, we've been giving Chase Tylenol to try to lessen the poor little guy's pain. Unfortunately, he does not value this act of kindness on our part and therefore often fights the eyedropper full of medicinal goodness as if it contained battery acid. Well, during one of these battles, the hair around his right ear took a hit for the team and thus became covered in cherry flavored tylenol. Thank goodness it was dye free as I feel he's a little young to begin a punk faze. Andy was supposed to wash the gunk out of his hair while I was out flitting the night away. Here is where the trouble begins...
It seems that my husband decided it would be easier to cut--yes cut--the hair rather than wash out the sticky tonic. Sure, he claims that the hair was bugging Chase because it was too long around his ears, but I maintain my assertion that the man was trying to find an easy way out. So little noodle got a hair cut from daddy while mom was across town scarfing down her strawberry shortcake.

It was already 10 by the time I returned home, so I didn't get to see the handy work firsthand, but I knew it was bad by the way Drew mumbled under his breath and averted his eyes when I asked him for details on the evening's events. The next morning when I went to extract the little gremlin from his crib, I almost turned and walked out of the room thinking I had gone into the wrong nursery. This certainly wasn't my child...my child is a baby, an infant, a lil dumpling--certainly not this grown up little boy looking at me through the bars. How can a few little snips from an untrained hand make my little babe appear so much older? It has to be an illusion brought about by the change in hair style because my baby isn't actually going to grow into a little boy. And he certainly isn't going to become a teenager, go off to college, find a girlfriend and get married in Bali by a cruise ship captain. Not going to happen...not on my watch.

Public Service Announcement #4256789

Due to the cancellation of both Veronica Mars and Gilmore Girls as well as the impending slew of reruns that I will be forced to watch as all of my favorite shows go on summer hiatus, I will be in a state of mourning for the next three months. Please send flowers, jewelry or chocolate.

This message has been brought to you by the Make a Mellon Happy Foundation.

Hello Tokyo?!?

Tonight as it was nearing Noodle's bedtime, the crankies decided to come out in full force. As I was lying on the floor trying every trick imaginable to get the fuss monster back into hiding, Andy called from the Teeter to ask me the all important question of if I wanted 1 or 2 boxes of CapNCrunch. (Just 1 which was only $0.60 after coupon--no applause necessary) Well from that moment on Young Master Chase was entranced by the phone. He spent the next 20 minutes turning that phone over in his hands...front to back, front to back, front to back. He was pressing so many buttons that I am sure that he reached several of his business associates in Japan. Every once in a while, his little noodle body would shake in what I can only assume was his victory dance. Kind of like how after his daddy has negotiated a beauty of a contract, the man celebrates by moving his hands in a motion that is a cross between a Vegas Poker Dealer and Shooter McGavin from Happy Gilmore while the words "Wheeling and Dealing, Wheeling and Dealing" gush in a continuous cycle from his mouth. I am sure if the little rugrat could talk, he'd have been chanting his own little triumphant mantra. Like father, like son.

Old McNoodle had a farm...

We went to Great Country Farms today with David, Danielle and Nate. Chase loved seeing all of the animals even the ones that gave him really disappointed glares when we didn't offer them anything to nibble on. This wasn't really our fault though as most of the little food dispensers were empty...I was fully prepared to cough up $.25 for a mini handful of dried corn, so it certainly isn't my fault that the goat had to go without his munchies today. Some of the animals sought their revenge by trying to chew my shirt or pants, and one overly ambitious pony even tried to chew Chase's fish toy right off of his stroller.

The highlight of Noodle's trip had to be sitting on the tractor with Daddy. He must have been playing the Old McDonald song in his head because his little body was just bopping away as he held on to the steering wheel. The world should be very afraid when it comes time for him to drive because judging by today's steering agility, I'm inclined to believe that Chase will be some what of a spastic driver. Just like mama.

Look at me up here on this big tractor. I'm not afraid of heights...yet.

Vrrooom Vrrooom...Where's a field for me to till?

No nibble for me, eh? Fine, I'll eat your little fishy here. Next time bring the good stuff or else!

Cheerios, Boosters and Ice Cream

We went to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner tonight. Chase was a little man in his booster seat eating cheerios. He wasn't super interested in the bread or chicken, but he opened his mouth like a little bird for the ice cream. When he realized that he had gotten his last bite, he threw a little temper tantrum and tried to pull the plate toward him. The screams were quickly halted though when we pulled out his Bubbles Bubbles book. Thank you lord for Elmo and Sesame Street.

And the weed grows on

He won't stop growing, and it seems that everyday brings new changes and accomplishments. At 9.5 months, little noodle has the following skills to add to his resume.

1) He's figured out that pressing the yellow button on his radio makes the music play.
2) He sticks his tongue out of the side of his mouth ALL THE TIME.
3) He's climbed to the top of our stairs now--three times.
4) He's eating cheerios and macaroni & cheese.
5) He wave's bye bye and gives five.
6) He'll repeat sounds...especially blowing raspberries.
7) He can open and close the screen door on the porch.
9) He can sit in a booster chair at the restaurants...as long as someone is sitting nearby to keep an eye on him
10) He twists and turns around backwards in shopping carts.
11) He dances to music by shaking his head no and bouncing.
12) He understands the word "No", but frequently chooses to ignore it.

Quite an impressive list, don't you think?

Weak heart

It is a virtue to have empathy, to be able to feel the pain of others. But if you are like me and have a weak heart, one that bleeds tears of sorrow for others so readily, empathy can also be a force that crushes. You can get so wrapped up in the whys, the should haves, and the how comes that you forget to enjoy the fleeting moments on this earth that you have that are truly blessed. I know for sure that I made the right decision in leaving the field of veterinary medicine, because I know that the daily exposure to pain, suffering and death would have beaten me down to a point where true joy would have been an emotion rarely felt. While I never want to become so desensitized to the pain of others that I cease to feel that tug on my heart, I know that I must limit my exposure to the horrors of this world, because my heart simply can't take it. I am too weak.

So I have found ways to hide from misery--I change the channel, turn off the radio, turn the page. But this week, there was no escape. The TV played images of the VT nightmare and grief over and over and so goes my mind in an unrelenting repetition of what I imagine those students felt--how frightened they must have been. And the professors who had so much to offer the world who were sharing their knowledge with America's future...gone. In the blink of an eye. And the moms and dads miles away not knowing the fate of their children. Willing the phone to ring, but dreading it as well. How can humans endure such pain and go on? But we must, and we will. We must say our prayers, grieve for what was lost and what could have been and move on.

This week has been hammering away at the fortress that I have been trying to build to shield myself from the pain and suffering. On top of the tragedy that befell those innocent lives in Blacksburg, there was another unfathomable event eating away at my dreams. A mother on one of the scrapbook boards I read found out that her 12 year old son has terminal colon cancer. How as a mother do you deal with that...to have your pain, your fears, your anger and yet have to be so strong for the life that you brought into this world, the life that is being snuffed out long before its due? I don't know this woman beyond what she has written on the boards over the years, have never spoken to her, yet I internalize this tragedy imagining that it is not her son, but mine--playing the movie over and over in my head, until it feels almost like her pain is my own. And there is no escape--for once the thought has entered my mind, it finds ways to make itself known throughout the day. And so my heart cries out for reprieve.

And my heart's cry was heard in a small, but powerful way. Along with all of the outpouring of support for those involved in Monday's events, there is another joy to be found--a reason to be grateful for the goodness of man. This good tiding comes in the form of a benefit for this mother and her family, a benefit organized by the scrapping community that is being driven by others, who like me, have never met this woman, never spoken with her, never even seen her in person. People who feel her pain and want to help to ease it in anyway that they can. No questions asked. You can read about their effort at http://www.benefitforjen.blogspot.com/ . While the week's events have left another hole in my heart, the selfless giving of a few have gone a long way toward repairing the damage.

Mr. Social

Today, we went to Allie's first birthday party. Chase was a social butterfly crawling all around the room and chatting up strangers. I was really surprised by how independent he was--he couldn't have cared less where mom and dad were. Well, that is until he got tired and let loose his patented squeal of death. Now that is a way to shut down a party really quickly. So, we left after only 2 hours of playing fun. I didn't even get any birthday cake, but considering I have to walk across a stage in front of 50,000 people in a week and a half, that's probably a good thing.

I don't care if it is your birthday, give me my toy back!

Hi, my name is Chase. Who are you?

Easter 07 in photos

Another Easter has come and gone and was as always filled with much gorging on chocolate, ham, eggs and sweet rolls. Chase delighted in all of the attention from his G Ma and G Pa, and now he believes that he needs to be held and entertained 22 of the 24 hours in a day.

Being entertained while the family colors eggs

Bathtime!

The loot

Long live the Easter Bunny!

Mommy's Little Helper Available Upon Request

Chase is now available for part time employment as a mommy's helper. Or, more precisely, he is offering the service of throwing all of your freshly folded laundry out of the basket and onto the floor. He's quite the little helper and is very happy in his task as you can see from the photos. References available upon request. Not available in all areas. Certain restrictions apply.