Bodo and Squish

When Weston was born, a new talent emerged from my husband. He became the most prolific nicknamer of all time! Weston had millions of nicknames it seemed - some of them ridiculously silly (and each having at least one little song to go with it). The one that stuck from the first year of his life was The Bean. Then, sometime after his second birthday Jason started calling Weston Bo-Bo, which immediately (though I still do not know why) morphed into Bodo. No matter how silly the nickname, Jason's inventions always stick - so now, for no particular reason at all, we call our firstborn son Bodo.

When Sophie was born, she seemed so regal and stunning that we called her Princess Sophie. Then Sophie Lady, or Baby Lady, or Lady Baby, or sometimes Sophie P. (for the record, Jason sometimes endearingly calls me Mit-chelle P. Mit-chelle, because the Hispanic people from my mission pronounce my name that way. Whenever I ask him what the 'P' stands for, he tells me "pretty." Who can argue with that?)

Well, a couple of weeks ago marked the start of a new era: the era of Squish. It was bound to happen. It comes from the movie Finding Nemo when Dorey says, "you are my squishy and I will call you squishy!" I believe she is talking to a jellyfish. At any rate, Sophie is endowed with rolls of delightful baby pudge, making her, well - squishy! Hence the name, again originating with my ingenious husband.

I wanted to share some beautiful shots of the munchkins, lovingly referred to as Bodo and Squish. Most of them were taken Thanksgiving weekend, when Sophie was 3 months old. (Wow, how the time is a-flying!)

These first three pictures were taken at only one week old:What a difference three months can make!

Our Day At The Park - A Sweet Reminder

Just yesterday I was thinking about what a big boy Weston has become. As a baby, he was the biggest mama's boy in the whole wide world. I remember once when he was about 12 months old I left him with Jason while I went to Enrichment. I had a wonderful time and was thrilled about it until I came home to an upset husband and an even more upset little guy! Weston had screamed and cried from the moment I left until the moment I arrived home.

Well, those days are long gone.
Yesterday I was thinking about how independent he has become, and feeling a little nostalgic for the little baby that used to be my whole world.

Since he is a social creature who desperately needs interaction with other kids (something he has been deprived of lately), I have decided to take him to the park as often as possible. Yesterday afternoon we arrived at the Rec Center, which is just adjacent to the park. I noticed a large group of older little kids (I'd say between the ages of 8 and 12). I noticed how they were all joking around, trying to be cool and obviously seeking the approval of each other. I thought about how they were probably starting to think they didn't need their parents so much, and probably didn't give them big sweet kisses at bed time any more.

I asked Weston if he wanted to hold my hand while we walked up to the swing set. He enthusiastically responded that he did. I thought how great it was that he still wanted to hold his mommy's hand. When we got up there, he let go and ran to climb up one of the platforms with slides. After going down a couple of times, a group of three older kids congregated on the platform. (By the way, why do older kids, obviously not interested in the play ground, just go there to "hang out?" I have never understood that!) Weston decided that he wanted to be part of the group, so he nonchalantly walked over to where they were, and just stood there. I guess he didn't feel awkward that they were all 6 to 8 years older than him! He just figured they were all buddies. I think it is so cute the way that he assumes everyone is his friend... a lovely reminder that he is still just a little guy.

Finally I spotted a little girl about the same age who had arrived and was playing in another part of the play ground. I nudged him in that direction, which worked immediately. The second he laid eyes on that cute little girl, he was following right behind her. And I mean quite literally that he was only one step behind her... for the next half an hour. And she loved it! At one point I saw him following her up the stairs. He is pretty tall and has no problem at all with the stairs, but she is shorter and kept tripping. Every time she tripped she would say, "ouch!" Next thing I know, Weston is pretending to have a hard time, and repeating "ouch!" over and over again! It was hilarious.

It is only a recent thing that he goes down the slides by himself. Before Sophie was born, he would want someone to actually go up onto the platform with him. Well, I figured he didn't need me much anymore, but I still usually wait for him at the bottom of each slide. Yesterday I noticed him looking for me, making sure I was watching him and cheering him on! It was adorable, and yet another welcome reminder of his tender age.

When it was time to go, Weston gleefully grabbed my hand. And as we again walked past the too-cool older kid crowd, I gave silent thanks for my sweet toddler whose greatest delights are playing at the park with his mom near by and making his baby sister laugh.

It's not all about me

I have so much to say, but as I sit here I realize that I REALLY need to do about 20 other things first - at which point it will be at least 11:30 and I will probably be too pooped to even wash my face before collapsing into bed.

I am a social creature. And when I am in a situation that limits my possibilities for socializing (like, for example, having two small children and living at my mom's house on the other side of town from every stay at home mom I know) I MUST blog. Even my husband recognizes a definite difference in my happiness level when I am blogging. Because, like many of you, I need to connect! I need friendship. I need to share what is happening in my life, and be there to care about what is happening in yours.

Blogging keeps me sane, too, because I love to write.

All I want to say is that I have SO much to say! And I miss sharing the daily tales of mothering that are amusing, endearing, and sometimes frustrating.

And while I sit here mourning the plight that is mine as an overwhelmed, unable to find time for blogging lady, it occurs to me that I am being rediculously selfish.

What I should be writing about is Garth Abbott, one of the coolest bishops ever, and a dear friend who I love for so many good reasons.

Because time is short, I will simply summarize: Garth has a very aggressive form of cancer and no way to pay for the outrageously expensive treatments he needs. His daughter in law (one of my best friends in the whole wide world), Rachelle Abbott, has an auction on her blog to raise money for his treatments. Please check it out. There are some awesome goods and services being auctioned.

Just click here to go to the auction!

Thanks everyone.