Ho, Ho, How do you do it Santa?

As Christmas nears I find myself focusing more on traditions, both new and old, and figuring out how to bring two childhood's together to form cohesive and happy memories for our own children.

For Bryan growing up, he and his siblings would wake up Christmas morning to find their stockings full and a pile of gifts for each of them from Santa. The gifts weren't wrapped, but were sitting there waiting for them to play with until their parents woke up and they were allowed to open the rest of their gifts.

From what my memory serves me, Santa came and filled our stockings. Its possible though that Santa did bring us presents when we were younger. One of the downfalls to having a brother that is 4 years older then you... Santa lost his charm at a pretty early age for me. But all the presents were always wrapped, except something that was too big and then dad would just hide it in the closet until it could be revealed, always the last big gift to be given.

Traditions between families can be a sticky thing... especially when you go and try and change them. So as I wrapped our 'Santa' presents, Bryan asked me what I was doing which started the discussion of how Santa would be represented in our family. I don't want to not wrap the gifts, A: because I am obsessed with wrapping presents and B: because I spend all this money on the stuff, I definitely don't want to have my kids get up at 6:30 and miss the excitement on their faces because mom and dad didn't wake up on time. While Bryan understood what I was saying (though not exactly agreeing since he likes to sleep in and knew this would now require him to get up earlier) he still had to inform me that it would take way to long for Santa's elves to wrap all those gifts, especially with their little hands.

So we agreed on a new tradition... Santa stuffs the stockings which the kids, once able to reach, can open and enjoy amongst each other should mom and dad not make it out of bed on time. The gift (just one, the 'big' one though which Santa should be happy I let him take credit for) from Santa will be wrapped and will be the last thing that they get to open, so as not to totally overshadow the awesome socks and sweater vests that we buy them. 

In the end we were both happy with this decision, though Bryan did inform me that in the future I might want to use a different wrapping paper for Santa's gifts so that the kids don't get suspicious. Whoops...

Merry Christmas to all of you...

however you may celebrate it, may it be the best one ever.

Love,

The Dennis Family

Little differences.

There is nothing more frustrating when you are pregnant then someone telling you what it was like for them, therefore implying that it should be the same way for you.

"I didn't show until I was 7 months pregnant with my 2nd baby."

And there I am, standing there, plastering a smile on my face and nodding my head in agreement, all the while knowing I am only 11 weeks pregnant and already having to tie a hair band around the button of my pants to keep them from unexpectedly popping open.

Weight gain and a faster growing belly are just a few of the major differences between this pregnancy and Wyatt's.

I am only happy if I am going at least 10 miles over the speed limit. My road rage has hit an all time high and if someone dares to cross traffic without a blinker or not stop at a cross walk while children are waiting I feel like I am entitled to rear end them and then drive away. With Wyatt I always had this sense of calm about me while driving, usually laughing as I noticed that I was going 40 in a 55. I would absent-mindedly drive past the exit for the hospital before an appointment and laugh. Now I can honestly say I would drive through the concrete barrier and continue on my way without even blinking.

Food makes me sick. Granted my body is still having no problem packing on the pounds in all the wrong places, but I can no longer stand the idea of eating, especially breakfast and dinner. Greasy food makes me sick, Denny's commercials on television send me racing towards the toilet and raw meat makes my head spin and my stomach upchuck. When I was pregnant with Wyatt, there was no food I couldn't eat and could usually eat two portions at that. It wasn't a choice with Wyatt, it was a necessity. If I didn't eat I would get sick and if I got sick the only thing that made me feel better was 8 Ling-Ling pot stickers or an Egg-Bacon-and Onion Sandwich. Just writing that is making my stomach curl and I am dry heaving over the keyboard as we speak.

With each pregnancy the number of people I care to continue to have in my life dwindles. There is something about being pregnant that somehow allows you to see through people. Maybe its the clarity from lack of alcohol for 9 months or the little nugget in your tummy that is sucking away the all important nutrients that allow you to think straight but for some reason with each pregnancy I find myself more and more enlightened with peoples true colors, both the good and the bad.

Besides the obvious answer of hormones, I don't know what it is that causes these sudden changes. I don't know why with one I would feel great, happy and hungry and with the next I feel miserable, annoyed and constantly nauseated. I am lucky that I have had an understanding husband for both go arounds, taking both the ups and the downs in stride, as well as now having my loving Wyatt next to me pretend-hurling into his little potty while mommy lays next to the big one. He may not understand the same way as Bryan does, but he doesn't complain when lunch is a little late... or served in the bathroom.

Yes, each pregnancy is different but the one thing that has remained the same is the two people in my life that make it all worth while... and lucky for me that number is soon going to increase to three.

Truly blessed. Morning sickness and all.

Lesson learned.

A few totally awesome things I have learned over the course of the last 17 months.

1. The baby calendars that lazy people like myself use to track all the progress our children make over the first year, really need to be extended. So far it looks like Wyatt has done absolutely nothing since his first birthday since I have nothing (on hand, easy to get to, with cute stickers included) to write anything down on now.
Some note-worthy dates we have missed but should not be forgotten...

• Flew for the first time to visit cousins in Colorado- July 28
• Went poopoo on the toilet- August 15
• Pacifier removal- August 26
• Found out you were going to be a big brother- August 29
• 2 Ridiculously annoying K-9 teeth appeared- October 1

I'm sure there are more that I have since forgotten but I think this represents the majority of the big occasions that have taken place over the last 5 months.

2. Spoon feeding a baby past the age of one is super frustrating. Not just for me, but Wyatt hated it too. It was like he knew that by opening his mouth like a baby bird he was acknowledging that he was still an infant. I discovered that the majority of the things he would need to be fed could easily be mixed or blended with some sort of liquid and be turned into a drink.
Examples:

Yogurt+Milk= Delicious smoothie

Strawberries+Bananas+Blueberries+Orange Juice+blender= Instant Jamba Juice

Small Curd Cottage cheese+Peaches= Lumpy, yet still drinkable and tasty smoothie

The only one I just couldn't handle blending to a mushy mess was mashed potatoes so instead I just set a few of the boiled baby red's aside and served them chunky instead of mashed so he could easily pick them up. No spoon required.

3. Shopping ahead for the next stage (or 2) is the only way to shop! By the time Wyatt was born, I had accumulated clothes from sizes newborn up to 12-18 months. Now at 17 months, were almost fully stocked up to 3T! Everything I bought was on clearance and I loved that whenever I discovered that he was ready for the next age range, rather then having to go to the store and stock up, I was just able to pull out the next tote. My only suggestion would be to keep track of what you have bought along the way so that you don't end up with 14 pairs of 12-18 month jeans. Whoops.

4. Live in the moment. I have said it once and I will say it forever. I have found myself over the course of Wyatt's life looking forward to the next stage. Then at certain points, we get there, and I wish we could go back. I couldn't wait for him to turn 1, but that was about the age he became daddy's boy, which is fine, for dad, but somewhat saddening for me. I wanted him to start talking, but at around 15 months I found that talking for whatever reason came hand in hand with temper tantrums. All of these things I wanted him to do, but at the time wasn't fully appreciating what he was already doing. Lesson learned, now living in the moment, especially since the 'terrific? twos' are looming ahead.

This hardly begins to sum up what I have gained from becoming a mother. I have learned to love, learned to let go, and learned to listen. I have learned what is important and what can be ignored. I have learned about family and friends and how the two go hand in hand. I have learned so much, more then I will ever be able to write about, or really more then anyone cares to read about. Most of all I have learned that no matter how different I do it from all the others, I am a mother, the best mother I can be, and Wyatt will love me regardless. And in the end...

that's the most important lesson I could have ever learned.

The story of life.

Lately I have been finding little ironic connections to Wyatt and favorite books from my childhood.

We have been working on potty training and one of the perks of this is playing with toilet paper and getting to flush the toilet, even if nothing actually made it into the bowl... besides the toilet paper. But I have recently been informed that unless a #2 is taken, toilet paper is not to be used by boys. I explained to my husband that when he stays home and does the potty training he can try and teach a 16 month old how to shake, but until then, a few dabs with the TP will have to do.

Unfortunately one of the downfalls to potty training is trying to teach your toddler when the proper time to use toilet paper would be. My toilet paper bill has been at an all time high as of late, due to Wyatt's obsession with unravelling an entire roll and trying to flush it down the toilet. One day in particular I threw my hands up in frustration after seeing an entire roll lodged into the toilet and the bathroom covered in the straggly, wet pieces that didn't make it inside the bowl. It was at that moment that I looked down and saw the cover of one of my all time favorite books, "Love you forever" sitting next to the toilet. A recent addition to our 'potty reads' it seemed to serendipitous. My anger was immediately washed away with tears and I grabbed the book, snatched up Wyatt who at this point looked like a mummy who had ran through the sprinkler, and went to read the book on the couch together.

Later that evening we went for a walk around the lake. Wyatt has officially decided that unless snacks are being served on the ride, he would much rather walk then ride in a stroller. So as I enticed him around the mill pond with my bulk bag of fruit snacks, we decided to stop and pick some blackberries with the idea of going home and making cobbler for dad. By this point the bag was empty so I started filling it up with berries. I dumped Wyatt's sippy cup out and would fill it up and then make a trip back to the bag, where Wyatt was sitting, diligently watching over our stash. I quickly began to notice purple stained fingers, followed by ruined clothes. Every time I would bring a cup back to refill the bag, Wyatt had already eaten 2 cup fulls. I laughed as I remembered my own childhood memories, going with my mom down to the end of the road and 'picking' berries, but hardly ever ending up with enough in my own bowl to bring home.

Wyatt has finally reached the age where he enjoys reading and will sit still long enough for us to finish a book or two together. Reading was such a huge part of my childhood and shaped be to be the writer and reader I am today. I am so excited for bedtime stories, chapter books, and getting to play all the different parts of the stories with different voices for each character the way my mom did. It is so fun to watch him point to pictures or laugh at the story, even if there isn't anything particularly funny.

Fun times lie ahead. Not just in the stories we will read... but in the ones we will write.

Weight a minute.

It's funny how having children can change your entire outlook on life.

Before Wyatt I could come and go as I pleased, no schedule to work around, no naps to plan for.

If I wanted to pop out of town, I could jump in the car and head in whatever direction my heart desired. When I wanted to go for a run, I could simply put my shoes on and hit the pavement for as many miles as my feet could take me.

Now when I want to go somewhere, the hour long prep usually causes me to take a detour back into the house and wait for another day. Or I have to wait until someone is sleepy enough that I know the trip out of town will be a peaceful one, without a wild banshee screaming in the backseat. My running trips have become shorter, quicker and not nearly as often as they once were. Having to lug the jogging stroller in and out of the truck uses the majority of whatever energy I have left at the end of the day and the fight to get Wyatt strapped in uses any remaining amount. Half way around the lake, I find myself carrying Wyatt and pushing the stroller, stopping to pick up toys and sippy cups thrown along the way... probably getting a better workout then I ever got before, lugging around an extra 25 pounds and bending and snapping my way around the loop.

All in all, its worth it. Finally having reached my pre-wedding/pre-baby/pre-marital bliss, life is great so eat whatever you want weight I feel a sense of pride, but also have found that this has only caused my brain to start whispering sweet coo's about baby #2 in my head... "Your ready... your ready." Whether or not we are 'ready' only God really knows but yes, my body is ready and back where we started last time. I can't help but want to hold off a little longer, enjoy the spoils of my hard work before jumping back in to the pool of baby weight (though hopefully not as much) that lies ahead. The whopping 52 pounds I gained with Wyatt were well worth every ounce of cuteness they helped create... though next time around I am hoping my body can ease into things a little slower.

I am realizing that my life is not mine alone anymore, its ours. My life revolves around him... and his around me. It's almost as if he is still in my belly... completely dependent on my every move. But then I see him open the door (a new, very unexpected trick which now requires us to lock the doors at all times of the day) to go outside, climb down the steps and tromp across the lawn and I realize that day by day he is becoming more and more his own little person, less dependent... and more independent than ever before. Maybe it is just me that wants to keep that little baby propped on my belly, imagining how perfectly he fit inside before. Wyatt will awkwardly squirm away when I try and prop him there now, or become obsessed with finding my belly button and squandering the precious (though still pretty cute) moment I was trying to share.

My baby will be 15 months old in less then 3 weeks. Watching him every day has been the most rewarding part of my life thus far and it only gets better with time. The more he discovers, the more I can show him, the more confirmation I am given that I am doing something right.

And so now I sit here, writing this while he is sleeping peacefully in his crib... the one place he can go that he still looks like my little baby. I might sneak in and get a peak... relish in the quiet moment with him curled in a ball at the bottom of his crib. Life is good.

Count your blessings.

We survived.

The first year has come and gone and we moving right along in year 2. Its amazing how quickly the time passed.

A few things I have learned a long the way...

Whether it is in your bed, in your arms, or in a crib... your children are blessed to have a comforting place to lay their heads at night.

Whether it is rice cereal, cereal bars, or green beans... we are lucky they have something to eat.

Whether you rock them to sleep, let them cry, or sleep in their crib with them... they are lucky to have a mother that tries to do it right... whatever right might be to them.

Whether you're a stay-at-home mom (or dad!), work full time, or go to school... they are lucky to have someone that cares about them... only you know how to provide for your children, whether physically, emotionally, or financially.

Be it from Baby Gap, Target, or Goodwill... they are lucky to have clothes to wear.

A trip to Disneyland, the park, or your backyard... we are lucky they have a safe place to play.

Whether they walk by 1, crawl by 2, or talk by 5... they are lucky to have encouraging parents.

It is so easy to lose sight of what is important in life. So as we go forward into the second year... I am going to count my little blessings every day. The simple things that we all take for granted.

Water to drink, a roof over our heads, a healthy baby, a loving husband, a car that starts, cupboards with food, a washer and dryer, my coffee pot, bath time, cut grass, clean air, clean clothes, new shoes, grandparents, my parents, soft diapers, fresh towels, fabric softener... my list could go on for miles.

Things that I all too often take for granted are things that some people, somewhere, only dream of having.

Wyatt can't say I love you yet, but he doesn't have to. His smiles and giggles tell me everything I need to know. I know someday he will look back on his childhood and know that his mom and dad gave him everything we could for him to have the best life possible. So that he could become the person he will someday be. The person that he already is.

So with a little bit of luck and a whole lot of love we did survive year 1.
And on that note: here's to year 2. And whatever little blessings it might bring.

Walk to the walk. Talk the talk?

Were officially up and running. Well... walking anyways.

After a few weeks of stumbling tumbles, Wyatt is walking. It started with a few steps between mom and dad, with a lot of prompting and coaxing he would wobble back and forth between us. Then he slowly started getting more courageous, letting go of furniture to walk to the kitchen or maneuvering back and forth between toys. He still hasn't figured out how to get himself back up on his own after he has taken a fall but I am sure that will come in a few days.

I still catch myself holding my breath or having to do a second glance when I see him standing on his own 2 feet. It just looks odd to see him walk across the room when I am so used to seeing his little biscuits shake back and forth while ferociously crawling to catch one of the cats. I can imagine that this is how all things in life with Wyatt will be... him discovering something new, me sitting back in amazement at whatever feat he is mastering.

He is starting to talk more now too. Finally we have mastered Mama though Dada is still the favorite chant. He will make sounds that sound like words and will mimic words that I say. Ducky sounds like duh-ee. Cat sounds like hat. Little words that to an 11 month old hold the meaning of life. We have been working on reading more and now he can point at the pictures. If I say, "Find the bear.", he will search the page for a moment before pointing to the cuddly grizzly on the page.

We are quickly approaching the big birthday. Party planning is in full swing and with 54 guests I am hoping our house doesn't burst apart at the seams. I can't believe how quickly this year has gone by. I still look at Wyatt and see the same little newborn that was thrown onto my chest a year ago. But then I hear him talk... and see him walk across the room and I know that he is no longer that little baby. He has become this little person... with a mind of his own and I can't help but wonder how much influence I have had on who he has become.

14 days and counting... I can cry just thinking about that last week of past due anxiety. That night in the hospital and those 32 hours of labor, combined with 4 hours of pushing and extreme hunger. All mommy wanted was a bag of Dorito's... but then you came into my world... and you filled every empty void in my life... including my rumbling tummy.

I don't care how fast he walks, how good he talks, or how old he is... Forever and always... my baby you'll be.

Baby fever on the rise.

Its official.

I have come down with a serious case of baby fever.

Between sniffing the sweet, fresh smell of our newest nephew, Zachary's, milky baby breath and combing my fingers through little Tucker Ruby's glossy black locks of hair I have caught a horrible (yet oh so wonderful!) case of baby fever.

I am sure my case will only worsen when I see Alex's expanding new baby bump and attend Kortni's baby shower for little Augustus tomorrow. I have been swimming in diaper cakes and newborn onesies for the last month... all of which has raised my temperature to an extreme baby-making high.

I can't help but wonder about timing. When is right to start thinking about, let alone trying for, baby #2? My brother and I are 4 years apart and now that we are older, have an amazing relationship that I cherish more then anything. Bryan and his brother are 2 years apart and were inseparable when they were younger and are great friends now that they have grown. What is the perfect gap between #1 and #2? Is there even such a thing? Is less more or more less?

Then there is the idea that #2 will be a girl. If this is the case would a larger age gap be better so as to lessen the 'annoying little sister' strain? Or if its a boy... maybe a few years between would be better so they could have their own time, their own friends, their own identity rather then feeling like they are just filling one anothers shoes... or following in a shadow.

Basically I have come to the conclusion that their is no 'right time' or perfect age. It would be nice to have Wyatt potty trained before so that we are only doing diaper duty for one but that could mean another year or more of waiting. Whenever #2 does decide to come along, I can only hope that he or she (she, She, SHE!) will bless our lives with as much joy as Wyatt has... which I know she (hehe...) will.

So in the mean time I take my daily dose of medicine (3 poopy diapers, 2 temper tantrums, and 1 ravioli to the face) to calm my fever and wait anxiously for those two little pink lines.

To God: Thank you.

Do you ever have those moments where you just stop and thank God for all he has given you? Where you look up at the sky and just say, "Thank you."?

The other evening as we made our way down my in-laws driveway, I had my brother-in-law sitting next to me with a sleepy Morgan on his lap and I just had to thank God for all he has blessed me with. Not only do I have an amazing, handsome, and perfectly healthy little boy and a loving, compassionate husband... I have such a beautiful extended family, also full of beautiful healthy babies. It is something that can so easily be taken for granted.

I was watching A Baby Story on TLC and as the new mom and dad welcomed their new son into the world, they were so elated to finally have him in their arms... they failed to notice that he was missing four fingers on his right hand. The dad, a former professional baseball star, had previously talked about how excited he was to teach his son to play baseball. I waited for the father's discovery to turn to tears as he thought of the dismal future his son now had in baseball. Instead he said with a smile, "I can't wait to teach him to play soccer." I never imagined Wyatt coming out anything less then perfect. While watching this I realized that even the loss of fingers can't put a damper on a baby's sheer perfection. But I still couldn't help but scoop Wyatt up in my arms and blissfully count each of his tiny little fingers and thank God that every one of them was there on his chubby little hands.

Out of 10 nieces and nephews, with #11's arrival quickly approaching, all of them have been healthy. They are all so smart, so talented, and in my eyes the cutest kids in the world. Sometimes it is scary to think that life can be so good. I catch myself waiting for something to happen... that my #12 (or #13 should Mackenzie beat me to the punch!) will be the one that struggles. My sister-in-law, Amanda, told me that you just can't live life like that. That you have to enjoy every perfect moment for what it is and not keep waiting for the bad to come. Because you might find that it never does but you will spend your whole life being unhappy while you wait. It is still hard though... to just be happy with the many blessings life has given and continues to give me. I just can't comprehend this level of bliss. It just can't be this good... but it is.

So maybe Wyatt refuses to say mama (though he has... he still much prefers calling me Ca-Ca). He can give kisses now and that completely (if not more so) makes up for it. So peas are not his favorite vegetable... he loves green beans so its a wash in the veggie department. He despises the idea of shoes... but I am fortunate to have a husband with a job that allows me to buy him a new pair every month. Such little trivial things when you look at the big picture. Wyatt could call me Ca-Ca the rest of his life and in my eyes he is still the picture of perfection. And what I see in him no one else in the world could possibly understand... so that's really all that matters. I will never again be able to look at Wyatt's 10 little fingers and not count my blessings on each and every one of them.

To all my babies: Payton, Isaiah, Sofia, Elijah, Madison, Luke, Logan, Avery, Morgan... and the thumb on the end, Wyatt. 10 beautiful blessings. I am so thankful for every one of you and the individual joys you each bring to my life. And Zachary James... we are anxiously awaiting your arrival, as now I get to start counting on Wyatt's chubby little toes.
Forever and always... Auntie Katy. And for Wyatt, Ca-Ca.

Nobodys perfect... but you're as close as it gets.

I'm sure everyone is sitting on the edge of their seats... wondering what is going on in the world of Wyatt.

But no need to be worried... we're alive and well.

Its not that I don't have anything to write about. The amazing things that Wyatt does on a daily basis could fill an encyclopedia, let alone a few pages. The problem is that not everyone wants to read about how amazingly adorable my son is when he blows bubbles in the bath. Nor do they care to hear about his 2 hour naps, 12 hour nights, or potential potty-training triumphs. In fact I'm sure most people want just the opposite, waiting to hear about my sleep deprived nights, diaper blow outs, and teething terrors. So today, that is what I will share. Along with a few triumphs (I just can't help it!).

The problem with the sleep experts is that they all think they are just that... experts. So which one do you listen too? Which book do you buy? After talking with a few moms and getting completely opposite advice, I decided to just suck it up and take it day by day, or in this case night by night. Wyatt went from sleeping through the night at 10 weeks... to waking up once at 6 months... twice at 7 months... to small spurts of sleep followed by what seemed to be hours of crying at 8 months. Bryan will tell you that it wasn't that bad (though he was able to sleep through most of it) and he may be right. There were long stretches, sometimes weeks, of good sleep... followed by a few rough nights. After relentlessly scouring online resources I found this to be somewhat normal but it was still a reality shock to my body to have to wake up in the middle of the night again. I would do anything for Wyatt, including rocking him all through the night, but I am definitely happy to hopefully be past our presunrise bonding time.

I assume that a lot of the problem has come from teething. A common factor in fussiness I suppose. Were currently working on tooth #4... 2nd one on the top. So far so good and I thought the end was in sight until someone informed me that the molars were if anything... worse. I can't imagine how that is possible seeing as how I am on my 5th tube of Origel but only time will tell. On Auntie Amanda's suggestion, I did find that the Little Munchkin Food Feeders seemed to help. I would put an ice cube or frozen peach inside of them for him to suck on. This was my saving grace a few nights... not only tasty but entertaining as well. Oh so thankful to have a Supermom in the family that has done this a time or two... or four!

We recently added a new addition to the family. Introducing, Sage. After seeing Wyatt's adorable smile while petting the puppy at the Sportsmen Show... we decided we had to have one. We picked her up the next day and brought her home to Wyatt's delight... and Bentley's dismay. So far the family is doing well. Wyatt loves chasing her around and she loves pulling at his footie jammies when he is trying to eat breakfast. It has definitely pushed out my desire to have another baby. Anyone who has baby fever before the first birthday should get a puppy... it will definitely help you hold off for another year... or two.

We recently mastered going up the stairs. Now we are working on going down but the progress is slow. This may be in part due to the fact that every time he starts to slide down a step I have a panic attack and swoop him up. In due time he will learn... but in the mean time my anxiety level is a bit to high to allow him to work on it. We are also progressing on walking. He can stand and push anything that will move around with ease. Bikes, baskets, chairs. My poor hardwood floors... I'm not pushing it since the brain development that corresponds with crawling is crucial but I can't help but be excited for those first steps. Soon enough... and then I will quickly miss the days of crawling as I chase him around at top speed.

So that is where we are at. Quickly approaching the one year mark (9 1/2 months now) it is all I can do to keep from crying when I see how big he has gotten. Every day he does something new or babbles a new sound that reminds me that he is no longer a newborn. While I am excited for what new adventures tomorrow will bring I can't help but want to just hold on to today. Since having Wyatt I have definitely learned to appreciate every day and not take a single minute for granted.