The Truth is Out!

The totally disgusting mega spiders have made their way up to the main floor. I've killed three this week alone. This one was hiding behind Ollie's pack and play. No wonder he freaks out every time I put him inside of it.

Look who is creeping around our house these days! I guess the undeniable draw of the shower drain finally motivated him to get off his booty and take a peak. I hope the mystical, magic land of the crusty shower floor was worth it.

My silver, stinky, dirty, shower drain. I've been waiting to find you my whole life. Now get off the floor and into my mouth.

I've got you, Babe.

Here I am dressed and ready for church. In one hand I have my scriptures -- complete with a rocking class I prepared to teach the parable of the sheep and the goats. In the other hand, I have a grey water bottle filled to the brim with water. And by water I mean Coke Zero. So sue me -- I drink Coke Zero during primary. If I didn't, there is a VERY good chance I will scream at the eight lovely children that get to spend the second hour with me. Coke Zero = Christlike. They should put that in the chapter heading for the Word of Wisdom.

I am so happy Abby brings dogs and not caffeine to church on Sundays.

Saturday we had a jam packed day of fun -- two street fairs, an awesome dinner, and a board game marathon with some wicked awesome friends that ended at nearly midnight. What more can you ask for?

Bratwurst with garlic mustard on one side and apple mustard on the other.

Oliver is now the puff master.

Abby wanted to ride this massive horse when she saw it from a distance. She was not down to even stand near it up close.

She didn't even want to ride the plastic horses on the carousel. Because, you know, they are really ninja killer colts.

Here is a terrible picture of me. I'm posting it, because it is a great representation of how I am feeling right now. I've spent the past month gaining and losing the same stinking five pounds over and over and over and OVER again.

I jacked up my leg running, mainly around my hip. It's been about three weeks since I've been able to run and it's been emotionally and physically exhausting. Running is a big stress reliever for me -- a meditation of sorts. It's the time of my day when I count my many blessings, think about where I want to focus my time, work out any problems I'm having, and get my metabolism revved up to handle any delicious, but fattening, crap that finds it's way into my mouth before the end of the day.

Today I went and saw a doctor who specializes in sports medicine, I think. My German is nil and his English wasn't the greatest. Long story short, he moved my leg in a series of inappropriate positions and then gave me a massive horse shot in my leg. I forgot to get a babysitter for Ollie, so he was scooting all over me as I as getting examined. I think I squeezed his poor little hand to pieces when they gave me the injection. It was quite obvious I had a baby, so I was a little shocked the doctor told me -- AFTER the shot -- that I shouldn't breastfeed for 24 hours. WHAT?!?! That child is attached to my chest like velcro.

Maybe the shot will be a twofer -- the miracle for weaning and leg restoration. Here's to hoping.

Of course, none of the above nonsense has anything to do with the fact I didn't wash my hair that day. That is what it is.

On a side note, I totally have my dad's toes -- long, tanned, slightly dirty. Don't you think?

We Got Issues

We've been having some sleeping issues around our house lately. For the past three months or so, Oliver has started getting up 2-4 times a night and has made five his new rise-and-shine. That wouldn't be the end of the world, but he refuses to nap for more than 20 minutes twice a day. He is taking the lack of sleep like a trooper. I, on the other hand, am a raging, overtired, impatient, ball of exhaustion.

This is a huge improvement from the first eight months -- he would only sleep in the car, stroller, or in my arms. He wanted to breastfeed the WHOLE time he was sleeping, and would scream and scream if I had the audacity to put him in his crib. Now I can put him in his crib awake at bedtime and he conks right out until about 12 when it turns into party time.

Abby was revolutionized by the book: Happy Sleep Habits, Happy Baby by Marc Weissbluth. She quickly took to the plan and become a well-rested, happy baby by day two. I swear it is the reason she is still an amazing sleeper -- she can pass out anywhere, anytime for 12 hours straight. We tried that method with Oliver and it was a big fat fail.

Tomorrow night we begin the Ferber method. It's a first for us, but I'm super hopeful. Keep your fingers crossed!

We can cross eating off the issues list! Oliver is now pounding puffs like a champion. This week he ate some chunky baby food, a baby cracker, some ice cream, a few Cheerios, and a piece of a mashed banana. He even drank some apple juice from a sippy cup.

My cup runneth over.....

If it's possible to be allergic to mosquitoes then Abby is! She breaks out in horrible rashes around each bite.

This is a day or two after a bite on her face. Her eye is still black and puffy.

Her ankle was so puffy and red that it looked like she fell off her bike. You can only imagine how awesome they looked after she started itching....

It is hard not to spoil my sweet Ollie. We're almost certain he's our last, so I find myself giving him just one more of everything. I can get up with him one more night. I can nurse him just one more month. I can puree his baby food for one extra minute because that's his favorite texture. I can run with him in the stroller if he likes to sleep while moving.

As my mother-in-law would say, "you have to stop letting him drive the bus."

But then he bats those long lashes and stares me down with those big brown eyes....

and I can't say no. I just can't. Good thing dad's home. I'm a sucker.

The Loot

Germany has u-pick farms everywhere. I've become obsessed with them. We scored some major loot at this little ditty outside of Potsdam.

About eight scratches in, Abby was not down with helping pick the raspberries. In turn, she stayed near the top of the patch and scowled at Oliver and his plethora of toys.

I'm a huge fan of pears.

Normally, Oliver squishing freshly, picked berries all over his new clothes would have made me insane, but I had other concerns at that moment. We found an awesome patch with lush, delicious berries that everyone else had overlooked. It turns out we were right beside the bee houses, as seen by the massive amount of bees that began to swirl around us as we crashed their secret stash of berries. No wonder the bee keeper looked at us like we were crazy. I'm sure he told me in German. But, you know, I don't speak that language.

Jeremy makes the most fantastic mixed berry ice cream. It's totally worth picking berries near a beehive. Almost.

Classic

My friend posted this on her Facebook page two days ago and I'm still laughing about it.

Classic.

Oliver is One!

I really had no idea what theme I should have for Oliver's birthday. His favorite thing in the whole world is me, but I thought it might be a bit haughty to make a cake of myself for his big day. Instead, we went with a helmeted dinosaur theme. It was a big hit!

My adorable Oliver. I can't believe how much I love this sweet baby. He literally steals my heart with every smile, every giggle, and every slobbery kiss.

I am still shocked at how blessed we are to have two healthy, curious, and beautiful children. The joy they bring me is indescribable. Every day I am grateful we were given these two choice Spirits to raise and nurture. I am the luckiest.

Since Oliver won't eat anything but baby food, there was no stinking way he was going to eat any cake. I thought we could trick him into eating ice cream and frosting, but he threw a serious no on that as well.

Blue frosting = blue tongues

Abby was in charge of opening all the presents. She was kind enough to test each and every one to make sure they were safe for Oliver to play with. Anything deemed too "dangerous" was quickly placed in her room for future inspection. What a good big sister.

Happy birthday, Ollie!