Forty-Two Minutes

42 minutes...

That's how long I was locked outside the house while Gerry was locked inside.  How long I stood in our backyard thinking about all the ways he could get hurt while I was stuck outside.  How long my heart pounded while I tried to keep Bailey calm because, "Mom!  Mom!  Gerry's stuck inside!"  How long it took before someone was able to come and rescue us.

42 minutes.

I had corralled the kids and brought them outside to burn off some energy before lunch and, as always, I kept our kitchen door {that leads out to the backyard} propped open.  The dead bolt on that door is broken and when we leave the house we have to lock the bottom lock, so I always check the lock before we go outside to make sure it's open.

Bailey and Gerry ran around like two crazy kids, chasing Ryder and climbing in and out of the jungle gym/slide set out there.  When Bailey decided she wanted to have a catch, she ran inside to get a ball and Gerry stood up to follow her.  Being bigger and steadier on her feet than he is, she made it back outside, ball in hand, long before Gerry made his way to the back door.  Bailey tossed me the ball and, as I caught it, I noticed G in the back doorway.  Just as I was watching him swing the door shut I realized that I never checked the lock before we came outside.

I ran to the door and grabbed the handle and, sure enough, it was locked.  And there was Gerry, standing on the other side of the door with a big grin on his face, not realizing that now he was trapped in there.

This cannot be happening.  No way did that just happen.  Okay...no big deal.  I'll check the front door.

I walked around to the front of the house to find that the front screen door was locked.  Erring on the side of caution, I always keep the screen door locked when we're home.  No biggie, I think, I'll just tear through the screen and open the door.  I'll admit that I felt pretty bad-ass while ripping through that older-than-I-am screen.  MacGuyver's got nothing on me, guys.  Except that the front door was also locked.  A quick search of the mailbox revealed that there was no spare key hidden inside.  The windows around the house were also all locked.  As was the storm door that leads from the backyard down to the basement {I don't know if I'm the smartest or the dumbest homeowner ever}.  And that's when it really hit me.

My 15-month-old son is locked inside the house all by himself.

And then I panicked.  Naturally, I called my mom first because I always call my mom first when I'm freaking out...but she didn't have her car with her at work today.  She told me that my brother and sister-in-law were both home from work today {God works in mysterious ways} so I called them.  They were at the hospital picking up some medical records, but could be here in thirty minutes or so.  After I hung up with them, I called Scott and the beginning of our conversation went like this:

Me:  How soon can you be home?  I have a little emergency here.
Scott:  About a half hour.  Is everything okay?  What's going on?
Me:  I'm locked out back and Gerry is inside the house...
Scott:  How the f**k did that happen?

How, indeed.

I texted my dad next:

Me:  I have a slight emergency here...do you have a key to my house?
Dad:  Not sure.  Why?
Me:  I'm locked out back and G is locked inside the house.
Dad:  And you call that a "slight emergency"?

He wasn't even sure he had a spare key to the house but he was going to leave work anyway to drive home and see if he could find one there.  In between texting and calling everyone I could think of, I kept going back to the door to check on Gerry.  The first couple of times I peeked in he laughed when he saw me.  By the third time, he was standing there crying and holding his arms out for me to pick him up.  "I'm so sorry, buddy.  Mommy can't get to you but Uncle TJ is a half hour away."  Obviously, he had no idea what I was saying, but it made me feel better.  I moved away from the door for a minute and could still hear him crying.

The next time I peered in the door I couldn't see him.  I stood there, my hands framing my face, and I searched every inch of the rooms I could see through the little window.  No Gerry.  I started thinking about all the ways he could have gotten hurt in there while I was stuck outside.  What if he fell down the stairs?  What if he managed to climb in the tub and turn on the faucet {which he can do now} and drown?  What if he strangled himself with the cord to my blow dryer {which I keep in a basket next to my dresser}?  OMG,what if he found a coin or something on the floor and put it in his mouth and was choking on it?  All these scenarios were running through my mind and I just kept picturing him a few minutes before, peering up at me from the other side of the door with his arms outstretched for me and big fat tears running down his cheeks because I wasn't coming in the door and picking him up like he wanted me to.

I took one more look inside the window, hoping to see Gerry, and there was my brother.  Hallelujah!  He opened the door and I asked him where Gerry was.  "I don't know.  No one's down here."  I ran upstairs with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, fully expecting to find Gerry unconscious.  I ran through the bedrooms and the bathroom, making my way down the hall.  I went into Bailey's room last and there he was.  Snuggled up on a giant bean bag chair in the corner with his favorite blanket, which he must have pulled through the slats of his crib, and a bag of jelly beans in his lap {that he must have climbed up on the kitchen table to reach}.  Just sitting there, happily munching on jelly beans and holding onto his blanket, not a care in the world.

I scooped him up and smothered his face with kisses and told him that he's lucky he's so small and cute because if he were older he'd be in big trouble right now.  And then we went downstairs, calm as can be, and I started making lunch while trying to will my hands to stop shaking.

I feel so stupid.  And so relieved.  And, in case any of you are wondering, I will be purchasing multiple spare keys this weekend.

Five On Friday

I'm taking a cue from one of my favorite bloggers today, Becky over at From Mrs To Mama.  If you've never read her blog, run {don't walk} over there and check it out!  I've never met her, unfortunately, but she's one of my very favorite "parenting" bloggers.  Our kids are the same age and we have a lot of the same parenting philosophies and are, of course, in the same "zone" as far as where we're at in our mom journey so she's ridiculously easy for me to relate to.  And I love her blog.

Anyway.  Back to my original thought. In taking my cue from Becky, I thought I'd do my own version of a Five on Friday...five thoughts, moments, ideas, whatevers from my week.  So...here goes.


1.  Ryder is FINALLY coming out of her shell and I couldn't be happier about it.  She's been here for about three weeks now, and it was rough in the beginning.  She was {and still is, a lot of the time} afraid of everything.  Noises.  Movement.  The carpet.  She had a lot of accidents in the house and was so afraid of Scott that she'd immediately pee whenever he tried to coax her out of her crate.  It was a battle to get her to come out of her cage, and even now she still prefers to sit in there rather than come into the living room with the rest of us.  But now she's starting to feel more comfortable with us.  She runs outside on her own now, and she very rarely has an accident in the house.  She's downright gleeful when she's playing in the yard--running with the kids, leaping into the air, lying in sunny patches on the grass.  They get a kick out of it, and it's so nice to see her enjoying herself and not being so fearful all the time.

2.  Gerry is getting to be such a "big boy" and I can't handle it.  Just like with Bailey, it's amazing to me to watch him growing up and learning and understanding new things.  Just this past week he's gotten the hang of the "mommy" thing and understanding that I am mommy and Scott is daddy.  I love, love, love hearing him saying "Mommy, mommy!" over and over in his tiny little voice.  And it always surprises me when I tell him something and he understands.  The other day I was getting him ready for bed and had just gotten his jammies on.  His bottle was ready to go and sitting within reach on top of our {electric} fireplace and I said to him, "You ready to go night-night?  Go get your bottle."  And he said, "Night-night!", walked over, and got his bottle, then came back for me to pick him up and carry him to his crib.  So cool.


3.  Bailey is something of a celebrity on her t-ball team.  This one cracks me up.  She had another game last night and as we were walking to the field, one of her teammates and his mom walked with us.  The mom walked next to Bailey and said, "Alright, Bailey, you ready to play?  You've gotta show those boys how it's done!"  All throughout the game, the parents were cheering for her {I really love how all the parents on the team are involved and cheer for all of the kids by name...the feeling of camaraderie is awesome}and one of the moms commented that she's going to be " a legend" after this season.  Now, it's important to note that Bailey is in no way. shape, or form a "good" player yet.  9 times out of 10 when she's up to bat she swings at least three times before connecting with the ball and, even then, it travels maybe 5 feet.  But she's entertaining.  When she's on the field she stands by her coach and by her BFF Max and she talks.  Incessantly.  She pays almost zero attention to what's going on around her and is always the last one to come in off the field.  But she chats away to her teammates and her coach, gets distracted by a runny nose, a plane flying overhead, or the fact that the playground is just a few hundred feet away, and is innocently hilarious while out there.  After she bats, she holds onto her helmet to keep it from blowing off her head when she runs the bases, and she talks to whoever the first baseman on the other team is.  "Hi, my name's Bailey Reece W*****.  My mommy calls me Bailey, but I like to say Bailey Reece W*****.  What's your name?"  Her first base coach tells me after every game how funny she is out there.  We joke that she's nothing if not entertaining.

4.  Gerry picked me a flower yesterday.  And my heart melted.  He had ripped it into pieces by the time he made it across the yard to where I was sitting, but he gave it to me with a big smile on his face and let me pick him up and give him a ton of kisses before itching to get down and go play again.

 5.  There is nothing better than coffee on a Friday morning.  It's no secret that I'm a coffee addict but there's something about that first cup on a Friday morning that is just incredible to me.  My sister brought me a large cup from Dunkin' Donuts this morning, and it was heaven.  Heaven.

 

The Smartest Piece Of Parenting Advice I've Received Yet

The night before Gerry was born I posted this status on Facebook:

 I just realized that tonight is the last night we'll put Bailey to bed an only child. She's totally clueless, but it seems somehow monumental to me. And a teeny bit sad.

I was so excited for the baby to get here (especially since I was more than a week past my due date) but there was a big part of me that was sad for Bailey.  I'd always wanted lots of kids and, before Gerry was even a twinkle in our eyes, I told Scott that I wanted to give Bailey a sibling.  I can only chalk it up to pregnancy hormones but, on that night, I wanted to cry for her.  She had spent her whole life (all 2.5 years of it) a total mommy's girl.  We spent all day together and she had my full attention pretty much every waking moment.  She didn't have to compete for my attention, she never had to question my complete devotion to her, and she didn't have to share me with anyone.  And I realized, a little late in the game, obviously, that I was taking all that away from her.  She would go to bed that night an only child and wake up in the morning with a little brother, and I just didn't know how she was going to handle it.  I felt so sad for her and, in a strange way, felt like I was doing this to her rather than for her.

Fast forward to the next morning.  I was solely focused on getting through this labor and meeting my little boy, and when he was born I was filled with such joy that he was finally here and relief that he was healthy.  I spent the first 2 hours or so after he was born doting on him.  Smiling and holding him and talking to him.  From the first moment, he was a sweet baby and I couldn't wait for Bailey to meet him.

A few hours later, I was waiting for my mom to bring Bailey to the hospital and I remember being so nervous.  Would she hate him?  Would she try to drop him on the floor?  Would she be upset that this new little bundle was about to turn her world on its axis?  I looked down at Gerry, just a few hours old and snuggled contentedly in my arms, and I thought about the two of them growing up together...reading books together before bed, playing together, sharing secrets and jokes at Scott's and my expense as they grow older.

And then I heard Bailey and my mom coming down the hall toward my room.  My mom was telling Bailey that they were going to meet her new baby brother and I could hear the excited clap-clapping of Bailey's "fancy shoes" as she came closer to the room.  And then, there she was and I was holding the baby out to her and she had this look on her face that was part wonder, part excitement, part what-the-heck-is-this-thing?

She asked to hold her baby brother, so we took her jacket off and got her all settled on the couch in our room and I placed him gently in her lap.  She didn't talk to him or say much but she did hold him for a few minutes and I remember thinking, Okay...I think it's going to be okay. 

When it was time for her to go, Bailey cried for me all the way out the door and I'd never felt so bad for her.  I kept trying to look at the situation from her point of view: Mommy, who she'd had all to herself up until this point, had dropped her off at Mimom and Grandpop's house and then gone and had a baby.  And not only that, but she had to leave while the new baby got to stay with her mommy.  Totally unfair.

I listened to her crying all the way down the hallway to the elevator.  A nurse came into my room a few minutes later and said, "Whoooo, she was so sad to leave you!  Cried all the way to the doors at the end of the hall but I told her not to worry and that I would take care of her mommy for her while she was gone."  I knew she meant well, but it didn't help me feel any better.  Bailey didn't care that I was being taken care of.  She wasn't worried about me -- she was sad that, for the first time ever, she couldn't stay with me.

The few days that Gerry and I spent in the hospital were busy ones {we had a rehearsal and a wedding in which B was the flower girl that overlapped the birth} so Scott and Bailey were in and out a lot.  When they came to visit, Bailey snuggled up next to me the entire time and she cried every time they had to leave.

On our second day, another older nurse came into the room a little while after Bailey had left, and she sat down next to me on the couch while I nursed Gerry.

"I know this isn't your first go-around, but can I give you some advice?"

I nodded, still emotional and winding down after Bailey's tear-filled goodbye, and she said in a gentle voice:

"When you get home, don't carry this baby into the house with you."

I must have looked confused {and probably a little annoyed...'don't bring my baby into the house with me'?!} because she went on to explain that Bailey, while only 2 and a half years old, had spent her entire life with me right there.  She's never had to take a backseat to anyone when it comes me, and she wouldn't understand if all of a sudden I wasn't playing with her because I had to feed the baby or change the baby or do any of the million and one things a baby needs done for them.  She reminded me that the baby could wait a minute or two before needing me.  Bailey has never had to, and it would probably have really upset her {and made her resent her new brother a bit} if she suddenly had to.  So she advised me to let Scott carry the baby into the house when we first came home, and for me to hold Bailey's hand while walking in the door.  Let Scott take care of that first diaper change and first bottle when we got home, and spend a few minutes snuggling up with Bailey, who had had a huge weekend and was missing her mommy.  And so we did.

I'll admit, it probably helped a lot that Gerry was such an easygoing baby right from the start.  He wasn't needy, didn't cry a lot, and was perfectly content to "hang out" without needing to be held and/or rocked all the time {though we certainly did our fair share of holding and snuggling that baby often}.   Scott and I made a point not to pay any less attention to Bailey when tending to the baby, and we let her "help" us when it came time to feed or change him.  She asked to hold him often and we always let her.  We let her smother him with kisses and hugs, and were very careful about not saying things like, "I have to feed the baby first..." or "We can go play outside after your brother gets his diaper changed...". We made sure that she never felt like she was taking a backseat to her brother. 

There were so many days when we were so exhausted that we just wanted to tell Bailey, "Sorry, kiddo, mommy and daddy are tired.  No books before bed tonight." or "This was a long day, hon.  Mommy's too tired to play."  But we didn't.  As wiped out as we were, we still made an effort. 

Bedtime tea party...less than two weeks after G was born

In the 16 months since Gerry was born, I've often thought about that nurse and her advice, and I'm so grateful that she took those few moments to sit with me and share a few words of wisdom.  When a new baby is born, it's second nature for mom to automatically put that baby and his needs before everything else, especially in the beginning.  In those first crazy/busy/overwhelming/exhausted/blissful few weeks, it never would have occurred to me NOT to tend to the baby's needs first.  But I think that making the conscious decision to allow Bailey to be a part of taking care of her brother, rather than having her "wait her turn" on the sidelines while we focused on him, played a big part in how close they are today.

Because, oh my goodness, do they adore each other.  Gerry's face just lights up when he sees Bailey, and he's the only person on the planet that she never loses her temper with.  Watching the two of them giggle and play together makes me happier than I'd ever imagined, and I'm thrilled that they're as close as they are.  I can't believe that I stressed so much in those last few weeks leading up to G's birth, that I worried so often about how Bailey would handle a younger sibling.  She's an amazing big sister.  And her little brother's not so bad, either.  Together, though?

Together, they're magic.

  

 

Happy Easter!

We had such a great Easter weekend!  It was, as all holidays are, filled with family, food, and fun and it couldn't have been nicer.

We spent Saturday with Scott's family, and the kids loved seeing them.  Their Mimi {great-grandmother} came down from Delaware, so she and my in-laws {along with my mom and grandparents, my brother and his fiance, and my sister, her husband and my nieces} came to the field to watch Bailey's t-ball game.  After the game, the Wanners spent the afternoon with us, dyeing Easter eggs with Bailey and watching the kids dance and play outside.  We had dinner together that night before they went back home, and it was just nice to all be together.  Not to mention the fact that Bailey ADORES having everyone together...especially because she's so doted on by them.

Sunday was hectic but great.  Because Bailey is such a night owl, I didn't put hers and Gerry's Easter baskets out the night before {like a parent with a normal, sleeping child would} and so I had to wake up early to do it before they woke up.  I was just hiding the last egg when Bailey came downstairs, sleepily rubbing her eyes and asking if the Easter bunny had come the night before.  I was almost --ALMOST-- busted!

We went to my parents' house that afternoon and had Easter dinner with my side of the family.  The grandkids were all hopped up on candy and holiday craziness but we had a good time.  Bailey finally got to wear her "princess dress and shoes".  I found these shoes at Walmart about a month ago, and I had to buy them.  They've got a low heel and Bailey just thought that was the coolest thing ever.  She put her shoes on around noon that day and didn't take them off until she went to bed that night--and even then it was a battle to get her to give them up.

Gerry, while always a little monster, looked downright dapper in his suit.

 The shoes!  I can't handle those little black dress shoes!

It took quite a few tries {"Stand still!"  "No, don't run away...come on, take a picture with mommy!"  "Come get your picture taken with me or I'm sending all your candy back to the Easter bunny!"} but I finally got a picture with both Bailey and Gerry.  Not together, obviously--no way was I going to even attempt to corral both of them at the same time.  There were eggs to be found!  And candy to be eaten!

 The egg hunt went really well, considering there were four very eager kids ages 4 and under ready to go.  Bailey searched out her eggs like a pro.  Gerry moseyed around the yard for a bit and then, realizing he was free...FREE!...in my parents' big backyard, he took off and we were forced to chase him down hills and around the pool in an effort to get him focused on finding his eggs.  He couldn't have cared less.  Scott and I found his eggs for him.  {Sidenote: does this mean we get to keep whatever coins and candy were inside those eggs?}

 

That night, after we got the kids home and put Gerry to bed and Bailey was winding down {dear God, when is she going to go to bed at a decent hour like a normal kid?!}, I sat down with a cup of coffee and my camera, looking back at all the pictures I'd taken that day.  Another holiday gone.  Another Sunday spent with family and noisy, goofy kids-- just the way I like it.  Bailey snuggled up next to me, looking at the camera with me and commenting on all the photos {"Awww, look at Gerry!" / "Isn't my princess dress beautiful?" / "That was a good egg...it had CANDIES in it!"}.  And then she stopped me as I was scrolling:  "Mommy!  Look!  It's me and daddy and Gerry...that one's my favorite!"

Mine, too.

 

Game 2

Bailey had her 2nd tee ball game of the season last night and -- holy crap-- is she an entertainer!  She still has no clue what's going on game-wise, but she really enjoys talking to the other kids, and Coach Dave is her buddy out on the field.  He must have an insane amount of patience because he doesn't bat an eyelash when the kids {ahem...Bailey}do their own thing out on the field.  Last night we had a booger situation, an "I want to stop playing mid-game and go play on the swings" crisis, and a "My glove looks awesome plastered against my face right now" moment.  And the coaches just roll with it and get the kids {ahem...Bailey} to refocus on the game.

A little pre-game picture taking

The first base coach told us that the whole time she was on base she kept asking the other kid what his name was.  "Hi!  My name is Bailey, who are you?".  She's nothing if not friendly!  Every time someone new came to the field (Grandpop, Daddy, Pop Pop...) she grabbed their hand and walked them over to introduce them to her new friend Max.  Never mind the other kids on the team -- Max was the first one to show up at the field and say hi, so now he's got a best friend for life. 


           

We couldn't help but laugh at the fact that Bailey is perfectly content to just stand there and hang out while the boys do all the work.  She watches birds, picks her nose, and makes conversation with her coach while her teammates field the ball.

She still hasn't quite gotten the hang of being at bat.  She doesn't like wearing a helmet because it always blows off her head when she runs, and by the time she makes her way around the bases she says that she's "too tired to keep playing".  Which really means she's getting bored and wants to go play on the playground.  But check her out.  I mean, she fields her own ball.  She won't do it when she's actually out in the field, but at least she knows how to do it.


             


We get a total kick out of watching her play.  But nobody...nobody...has more fun at the field than Gerry.  Last night, he met an "older woman"--an 8-year-old--who shared her food with him.  He's in love.

We've got a break this weekend, and then it's back to practices and games next week.  Looks like it's going to be a fantastic weekend, weather-wise, too...gotta love it after the crappy winter we had!

 

T-Ball and Puppies and Family, Oh My!

What a great weekend we had!

Bailey had her first t-ball game Saturday morning, and she did great!  She had her own little cheering section up there -- both sets of grandparents, her great-grandmother, and her uncle and aunt all came to watch her play.  There was a last-minute time change that we didn't know about {I knew I should have checked my email that morning!} so we missed the first couple of innings.  But Bailey just ran on over and made herself at home with her team.

That hat!  The pink glove!  I can't take it!

It was super windy up on the field...and pretty cold.  At one point, after Bailey had hit the ball and was running to first, her helmet blew clear off her head.  She totally abandoned the idea of running to the bases, turned around and picked up her helmet--and then ran with both hands holding it on her head the rest of the game.

 After the game. both teams met on home plate and high-fived each other, then it was time for a post-game snack {Rice Krispy treats and a juice box} that the coach brought out.  And, of course, the morning wouldn't have been complete without a lunch time trip to Bailey's favorite place -- Chick-Fil-A.

See those baby blues of hers?  Remember them because they'll come into play a little later.

After lunch and some play time, we headed home.  There's a Petco that we pass on our way home and, as we were driving by, I noticed a pet adoption van in the parking lot and pointed it out to Scott.  Bailey has been asking for a dog for months now and we've been putting it off.  We had a dog before she was born that turned into a peeing, snapping, territorial mess after baby arrived, and we didn't want a repeat this time around.  But we've kind of been tossing the idea around for the last few weeks, and were {sort of} planning on {maybe} getting her a dog for her birthday in June.

So...we drive by Petco and pass the adoption van.  And, as we're getting off our exit Scott tells me to turn around and drive back so he can run in and check it out.  The plan was for me to drop him off and then head to Starbucks with the kids and pick him up a few minutes later.  But as soon as Bailey realized where we were she freaked out and begged to go inside.  So the four of us walk in and Bailey immediately makes a beeline for the dogs.  She asks to pet them, and she's in heaven.  Heaven. 

She's petting a black lab named Blair, and then she moves on to Patty Cake, and then to Casey.  Back to Blair.  She was loving it.  She never asked for one of them, but was just content to sit with them all and play.  While she's playing with the dogs, Scott and I are asking the fosters and employees questions about all of them and trying to have a discreet conversation about it.

Should we get one?

I don't know...should we?

Look how happy she is.

I like Patty Cake.

Me, too.  And they say she's good with kids.

Oh, look.  Blair is sniffing Bailey's hair.

Awww...look at that little one chewing on the gate.  He's so cute!

Do we want to do this?  Should we wait?  Let's wait.

After about 40 minutes we told Bailey it was time to go home.  To her credit, she didn't make a peep.  Just said goodbye to all of the dogs and we were on our way.  On the five-minute drive home Scott and I debated the merits of an adopted dog versus taking a drive over to the SPCA.  Before we had even gotten home, Scott told me to turn around and go back to Petco.  The plan was to check out Patty Cake one more time...but when we walked back inside the store she was already in the process of being adopted by another family. 

We let Bailey walk around a bit and play with the rest of the dogs.  They were all jumping around, playing and sniffing at her.  And then she said, "Mommy!  Look at that one!" and if she hadn't pointed her out to me I never would have noticed this poor dog.  She was huddled in the corner, curled up in a ball, and just looking around at everything.  Bailey ran over to pet her and the dog just sat there and let her.  Didn't lick her or jump at her...just stayed curled up in a little ball.  One of the adoption employees told us that this particular dog seemed stressed and afraid due to the long drive up {all of these dogs were rescued from a high kill shelter in Alabama} but that she was a total sweetheart.  One woman had a dog of the same breed and said she was wonderful with families and children.  I knelt down to pet her and she looked up at me with soft black eyes and then laid her head down on her paws...and my heart melted.  Bailey sat down with her and continued to pet her while Scott and I peppered the employees and her foster with question after question about her breed, house training, size, etc.  Bailey batted those baby blues at Scott and two hours later, she was ours.

This is Ryder, a 9-month-old Great Pyranese/Antolian Shepherd Lab mix.  She's timid and sweet and fearful of just about everything.  She set up camp in a corner of our kitchen as soon as we got her home, and she's content to stay there until we bring her outside to go to the bathroom.  She let Bailey snuggle up next to her and pet her, and she was cool with Gerry clomping around and falling on top of her a few times.  She only barks at night when she needs to go outside and, even then, it's a quick little howl and then she waits for someone to come downstairs.  We're all being very gentle and trying to slowly bring her out of her shell but so far she's still quiet and scared as can be.  Bailey absolutely ADORES her.

We had Sunday dinner at our house yesterday, so she got to meet some of the rest of the family.  She slowly, slowly started to be a little less fearful of everyone as the afternoon wore on.  We even managed to get her outside, where she plopped down under a table and let everyone pet her.

 

Bailey and Gerry ran around out there like two little lunatics and Ryder never made a peep.  G, in particular, had a blast outside.  Last summer he wasn't walking yet and it's been either cold, snowy or rainy here for so long that this was, quite literally, the first time that we've been out in the backyard for more than a minute or two since he started walking.  He went down the slide and ran around in the yard and just soaked it all up.




                            

By the time we got the kids bathed and calmed down after all that, it was bedtime.  For Gerry, anyway.  Scott and Bailey ran out for ice cream while I got Gerry ready to go to sleep.  We blew some kisses, said goodnight to Ryder, and then it was bedtime. 

And not a moment too soon. 

Our Week In Review

It's Friday!  We've got a busy weekend ahead.  Tomorrow morning, Bailey has her first t-ball game and she's going to have quite the crowd watching!  Pretty much our whole family is coming and I think she's going to love it.  That night, we're going out to dinner to celebrate my in-laws' anniversary and on Sunday we'll be hosting Sunday Dinner {Scott doesn't know this yet so, hon, if you're reading this...SURPRISE!}

Okay, so not a whole lot happened this past week.  Our "big" thing was Bailey's first t-ball practice, which I posted about earlier this morning {whhhaat?  2 posts in a day?!}  Other than that not much has been going on.

I can never get this nut out of the bath tub.  And it's a good thing, too, because he's constantly getting dirty. It must be a boy thing.  Bailey spent an hour playing ball last night and was sparkling clean afterward.  Ten minutes in the grass and Gerry was covered {literally} head to toe in dirt and leaves.  He's had, like, four baths in the last three days.

I also can't get him to stop drinking the water.  If I take the cups out of the tub he just dips his head in and drinks that way.  And every time...every single time... he comes up sputtering and chocking.  Then once we've got him calmed down, he goes right back and does the same thing again. 

I sent this picture to Scott after he left for work the other day.  He seemed bummed to have to leave and Gerry cried, so I knew he was bummed.  Before all you Eagles fans jump me, *I* am not a Redskins fan.  Or an Eagles fan.  I don't even really like football...

That's it for now, I guess.  I'll be inundating this place with pictures and stories from Bailey's game tomorrow, so I apologize in advance.  Go, Blue Team!

Swing, Batter, Batter!

Bailey had her first tee ball practice last night.  She was super excited to play all the way up until we actually met her team on the field, at which point she decided it would be way more fun to have me out there with her than to go it alone.  She did great, though.

She's the only girl on the team {the youngest and the smallest}, and they pretty much spent the entire practice like this:

 Not a single one of them knew what they were doing and it was adorable.  The boys were quick to chase after balls after they were hit to them in the field.  Bailey did a lot of watching and pretty much just let the boys handle it.  When Coach Dave had her field a ball, Bailey picked it up with her glove hand and just held onto it.  She threw it with that hand, too. 

She LOVED hitting the ball, though.  She hasn't quite figured out that after you hit the ball you run to first base--she would hit the ball and just stand there.  Sometimes she'd hit the ball and then run out and field it herself, skipping the run to first base altogether.  Baby steps.

They have their first game tomorrow morning, and it's sure to be hilariously cute.  Scott is going to take her out back tonight and practice a bit with her.  All in all, though, she had fun and that's all I care about.  The mechanics of the game will come later.  Considering she's never swung a bat before, I don't think she did half bad.  :-)

 

Throwback Thursday

Ahhh, 2007, you were good to me.  I moved out of my parents' house and in with my {then} boyfriend.  I had a job that I {mostly} loved.  I had a blast at my sister's wedding {and still laugh when I think about the night of her bachelorette party}.

And I went to Aruba.

This photo was taken in August 2007 at Texas de Brazil, and I can still remember what an amazing dinner we had.  Scott and I spent a week in Aruba that summer and it was, for the most part, fantastic.  I spent the first three and a half of our seven day stay sick in bed.  Not just "not feeling so good" sick, but "fever, can't breathe, swollen glands, hurt to move, cried every time I swallowed because it felt like I was swallowing shards of glass" sick.  It started on the flight to Aruba with some sneezing and ear pain and just got worse and worse until, on day three, we broke down and called an emergency doctor in town.  We couldn't understand half of what he was saying, but we paid an arm and a leg for a prescription that we could only hope would do something to help.

By day four, I was feeling better.  I dragged myself out of bed and on an ATV tour around the island, and we had a blast.  The rest of the week was spent soaking up all the fun things I'd missed out on while I was sick.  We took a ride in a submarine.  We went into town and walked around the outdoor mall.  We stopped and had Starbucks because of course you have to have Starbucks whenever and wherever you can find it.  We spent entire days soaking up the sun by the pool, swimming under the built-in waterfall, relaxing in the hot tub, and drinking our weight in Cocadas at the bar.  We went to the beach.  We had pizza and beer on the balcony outside our room at the resort.  We ate dinner at a lighthouse.  And we enjoyed this dinner at Texas de Brazil.  For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of experiencing this form of dining {there's one in Philly!}, it's an all-you-can-eat meat restaurant.  When you're seated, each person is given a two-sided coaster.  If you flip it to the green side it's a signal to your server to bring more meat.  If it's flipped to the red side it means you're full for now.  If you're a meat-eater you'll love it.

Illness aside, we had a wonderful, wonderful week  and were sad to have to leave.  Luckily, I've got a ton of pictures to remember the trip.

Four months after this picture was taken, Scott and I got engaged.  A little less than two years after that, we were married.  And here we are, coming up on five years of marriage.  Our kids keep us busy, and we don't always have time to just sit and be "us" these days.  But I'll always remember this vacation and I'm so glad I have the photos to look back on. You know what they say...we'll always have Aruba!