A Week in February

In Transition
February was definitely a month of transition. We went from the TLF at Randolph AFB (right by the flight line... that was fun) into a three day journey to get to Vegas. We stayed overnight at two hotels, dealt with a completely shredded tire about 15 minutes from our hotel the first night in El Paso (suck it, Texas!), traveled with a VERY talkative two year old, a very nervous drugged up dog, and a ferret who thinks it's funny to poop just as you bust out something to snack on. We finally made it to Vegas only to be stuffed into the tiny boiling TLF. Luckily for us we have some of the most amazing friends ever and Charlie and Stephanie let us crash at their place until we closed on the house. And after 24 days of constant change, constant moving, a few head injuries and one very stressed out me, we got to move into our new house! Oh and then I forgot the part about the moving into the house and unpacking! Actually, scratch that, that part went quite smoothly thanks to a little help from my wonderful inlaws and the chats on the phone with my awesome parents who constantly remind me that everything isn't the end of the world!

And so despite all the stress, the shredded tires, the stinky poop, and the never ending 9 hour-long narration of "Look Mommy, that's a cloud. What is that over there? Do you see that motorcycle? Hey Mommy do you like a dragon movie? I like a dragon movie. That's a good movie. Hey can we watch that movie? Why are you driving? Stop driving. I think we should turn right. Mommy, I want to drive now. Do you see Bazzy? Can you hear him? Did he poop? That smells bad. Where is Lovey? I don't see him. Mommy, can you get Lovey. OH NO! LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY! Mommy can you please get me Lovey. I can't reach him. Ahhhhh!" (at which point I literally had to pull to the side of the road to retrieve the beloved Lovey that had fallen between the carseat and the door) we have arrived safe, settled in quite nicely, and are enjoying our new house.

And without further ado, I give you a week in February:

Here is my tiny creature in February of 2010 at 10ish months old

I had taken him to Jitters and he was sharing a blueberry bagel with me while we sat near the fireplace. I believe he was already beginning his climbing adventures. This may have been right around the time D was teaching him how to go down the stairs without killing himself. Nevermind the incident where, as we were showing him this, he tried to stand and rammed his head into the wall...


Here he is February 2011:
Furthering his climbing and acrobatic skills much to our dismay. This is the day we realized that he was too big for his highchair. Or at least, this was the day we realized the highchair was no longer a useful baby product but rather a toddler death trap. We said goodbye to this device of doom shortly after this gem was taken.

And here is my sweet little boy this year February 2012:
This is my little monkey. This picture is special because he has no cuts, scrapes, bruises, gashes or blood on his face! Before you call CPS let me clarify something: My child is a freaking daredevil. He loves to climb on things. Other parents look at me like I am a leper on the playground because I am not hovering over my child making sure he doesn't fall off the ladder that he learned to climb about a year and a half ago while they are there to make sure precious 4 year old Tommy doesn't fall through the space between the rungs. He did, however, almost break his nose about three weeks after this but it wasn't because I wasn't watching him or because he was climbing something he shouldn't. It was mostly because he has my lack of coordination when it comes to walking/running on. the. ground! Seriously. He tripped over his foot and busted his face on a rock climbing wall. No joke. We're special. Today his injury was running into a BBQ grill because he was attempting to move a bike tire. Yup, I have the unfortunate height child right now. You know, the height where EVERYTHING is positioned just right for them to ram their head into when they turn around but it's just tall enough where they don't even see it coming!? Poor baby. At least he still thinks a smooch and a bandaid will fix everything (except for when the bandaid hurts him and I have to smooch whatever the bandaid did). Aw well. At least he's having a fun childhood.

A Time I Had