Since the emcee from last year wasn't there, I asked a random member of the crowd if Paxton could take his picture with her. She was very accomodating.

Taking sunglasses off of faces is a favorite game. Especially when those sunglasses are shamrock-shaped, green, and on Tizzy's head.
The picture of a tired, sun-struck family.

St. Patrick's Day

It is my very most favorite kind of day--rainy, dark, and thundering. At first the sounds of thunder intermingled with the sounds of Paxton running his new Thomas train along the wall beside his crib. When he drifted off for his nap, I was afraid the thunder would startle him awake. But it has had the opposite effect, lulling him into an even deeper, longer sleep. I've been able to do some cleaning, watch American Idol and enjoy the beautifully dreary day.

I'm posting pictures today from our St. Patrick's Day celebration. My family loves St. Patty's Day. We have an annual tradition of going into Austin to the local Irish pubs to hear Celtic music and enjoy the crowds of green. We all went last year with Paxton when he was less than three-months-old. I cuddled him against me in the Moby Wrap and protected his hearing with his noise-blocking headphones. He didn't find much interest in the festivities, but just having him along added so much to our enjoyment.

I was excited to bring him this year when he was able to experience it a bit more fully. My mom and I took him first to Opal Divine's, where me met Gary and Jocelyne for lunce. Live music was playing on the outdoor stage, and Paxton enjoyed running back and forth in front of it. He's a showman. He even got a shout out from the musicians. I'm glad we went there first, because we were able to hear some traditional Irish music. Paxton even got to see a woman dance a jig.

I had a hard time finding a good St. Patrick's Day outfit for Paxton. It isn't enough that it be green. It needs to have some sort of festive logo on it, as well. I'm not much of a shopper, really, so my search was primarily limited to Target and Walmart, which offered nothing in Paxton's size for the holiday. On a whim, I stopped in at Old Navy and found a cute t-shirt proclaiming that he is "Mommy's Lucky Charm", which indeed he is. I also splurged and got him a pair of plaid green shorts, which are adorable but overpriced. Apparently the splurge was worth it. People were admiring his shorts all day long. He was a fashion DO!

After Opal Divine's, we drove to downtown Austin to meet Chris at the Dog and Duck Pub. In the future, we'll make note to not get there later than 5 ever again. All of the working stiffs had headed there straight after their work day ended, and were already sloppy drunk and crowding every inch of available space. I was surly, but calmed down when we claimed a little piece of land for our own. My mom, however, was clearly overwhelmed by the crowd. It was far too congested. Chris battled the ticket line, and then the beer line to bring back some spirits. Paxton was unaffected by the crowd. He roamed around a little circle, charming attendees. He found a little girl to dance with, and presented her with my camera. He met a fuzzy dog who gave him smooches. He ate handfuls of pretzels. He was in his element. The adults couldn't relax, though. The jam-packed venue might have been tolerable if it was accompanied by great Irish tunes, but the band was a bunch of middle-aged guys playing punk. That would have been okay any other time of the year, but St. Patrick's Day is all about the Irish. We could have stayed around long enough for the next band, but I think we were all ready to call it a day.



As we walked to the car, Paxton waved at everyone he passed and said, "hi". He's a little mayor. Perhaps Easter will be a little more our speed this year. We already have plans to hit two local Easter eggs hunts, and I've been conversing with the Easter Bunny about some good things to stash in Paxton's basket this year. No matter what the holiday, Paxton makes it more fun, more festive, and more blessed. We're so thankful for his presence.

Embracing My Role

Paxton sometimes get very involved with his toy playing. He is really into his VTech block train lately. This fine morning, he was taking each block from the train and putting it neatly in the dog food bowl.

This picture reminded Chris and me of my brother, Aaron. Chris said that we have an almost exact duplicate of that picture with Aaron as a baby. I'll have to look for it. It's strange to see our family members reflected in our baby's face. We've seen a lot of my grandpa, Papap, in his expressions. We also see a lot of Aaron. The other day, Paxton made a facial expression just like my mom. I don't look at Paxton and see myself or Chris, but I often feel like he looks very familiar. I feel like I've known that face for decades. Maybe that's just a mom's inherent connection with her son, but I think it's more likely that Paxton is a compilation of generations of each side of his family, and it's impossible to ignore.

Paxton has been bursting forth with new words at the pace of a few a week now. Every morning, when I collect him from his crib, I point out the framed pictures on his wall. One is his newborn picture, and the other is a picture of him with the Easter Bunny last year. My hope was that by making this a morning tradition, he would become numb to the sight of a giant rabbit, come time to make our annual trip to the mall to be photographed with the plush hare of lore. However, he has absolutely no interest in the bunny. Instead, he points to himself and proudly declares, "BABY!". At first, it came out as "boo-boo" or "buh-bo", but now it is a clear and perfect "bay-bee".

He also has begun to mumble a version of "bubbles". This was less about using a new word for the sake of showing off his vocabularly, than it was about necessity. The boy likes bubbles. He wants us to blow these bubbles for him at his every whim. Pointing in the vicinity of the bubble fluid does not necessarily get the desired result. So instead, he points, says "aub-bull", and blows gently into the air. It's a very effective means of communicating. When he goes to all that effort, it's impossible to refuse his request.

He has also started being a little bit more of the cuddly son I prayed for. Paxton is, through and through, a daddy's boy. When I come home, he may wave and briefly acknowledge me. When Chris comes home, he slow-motion runs into his arms. Chris' arrival home is greeted with ruckus, joyful laughter. My arrival home is met with a suspicious stare, questioning if I intend to take him away from his wonderful daddy. Lately, Paxton has learned that a hug or a kiss can melt his mommy's heart. The thing is, the hug is most often reserved for his stuffed lion and the kiss is between me and his Madagascar figures, per his request. But every once in a blue moon, Paxton will walk up to me, wrap his arms around my legs and pat the back of my knee, lovingly. At storytime on Friday, he walked straight to Amy and gave her a big hug. I think this is his attempt to court Tatum. He knows that Tatum has her pick of boy babies, and he wants to hedge his bets. Smart cookie, that one.

Another new object of his adoration is his basket of books. He rummages through daily and presents me with one to read to him. For weeks, the only book he showed any interest in was the Sesame Street First Counting Book. I can recite this from memory. "One cookie for Cookie is always such fun. Two special friends hope they'll hit a home run. Three happy friends sit looking at their books, while four colorful jackets are hung onto hooks." Honestly, it's pretty boring. To entertain myself when I'm reading, I sing-song the pages until I get to the one featuring the Count. Then I do my best Count impression while I count the bats. "...eight bats, nine bats, HA! HA! HA!". He loves that. My background in drama is finally paying off.

I also enjoyed recently acting out "Kat Kong" for him which has made it a new favorite. I think most of it bores him. He doesn't get the subtle humor about how the mice were careful not to let Kat Kong "out of the bag". But he does take great pleasure when I hiss and meow Kat Kong's protest to his mouse tormentors. He laughs and hisses along with me. The scratches on his hands and face are testaments to the number of times he's heard the real deal while trying to force a toy into the unwilling laps of sleeping cats. I'm sure hearing the agony of a storybook cat being tortured by mice brings him a tremendous amount of vengeful satisfaction.

Betraying his British and Irish roots, our son would prefer to spend the majority of each day outdoors. I compromise by opening the back door for him, so he can roam around on the deck while I sit safely out of the sun on the comfortable couch. This doesn't usually sate his desires. For some reason, the sign for "fan" has become his signal that he wants us to push him in his swing. When I'm in the middle of something else, I pretend not to notice, and he gets distracted by pulling all of the contents out of my wallet or something like that. Chris, however, has not mastered the fine art of parental neglect. He gives in to Paxton's pleas with only the most feeble resistance. For some reason, the sound of Paxton's scream-punctuated tantrums and angry shouts of demand do not rub Chris the wrong way, as they do me. He feels sorry for the little imp. Perhaps because I am subjected to his one-act plays all day, every day, I see them for what they are--acting. And not very good acting, at that. He could at least squeeze out a few tears. He doesn't even bother to go to that extent anymore.

It's funny to me to see how Paxton interacts differently with his mommy and daddy. Even though he and I know how to push each other's buttons, we also have looks we exchange that send up both into fits of laughter. We have inside jokes, and our own traditions. With Chris, Paxton feels 100% safe, and it shows. I know the feel of being inside those strong arms, so I know just what he's thinking. Nothing is quite as secure as a daddy's embrace. Paxton knows that Chris will do anything for him, and he trusts that he will never be bored in the company of Chris' creative games. They always have fun together, and I don't blame him one bit for preferring that lightness to the heavy hand of a mommy who is forcing him to take a bite of his lunch, or insists that he takes a nap. I relish my role as Paxton's mommy, and being the control-freak that I am, it fits me. But I'm thankful that we still share so many happy moments together.

Playing hide and seek with his new plate.

Rocking Mommy's shades.

Playing with his giant floor piano with Dada and Ya-Ya. Norice the haircut?

Sliding on the piano, courtesy of Daddy.

Hanging out with Ya-Ya.

The Cockle Family.

Paxton, spooning out his own yogurt successfully, for the first time.

Mmm. My reward!

A got to see an old friend from high school--Sabrina (and her son, Garrett). She now lives in Australia and works as an architect. It was really nice to see her!

Paxton has learned to get in his buggy by himself, but he's not so good at getting out. Before I helped him, I had to take a picture.

Shave and a Haircut? Two Kisses.

I did it. I couldn't stand Paxton's shaggy mane anymore, so I cut it. Don't worry--I wasn't totally unprepared. I watched an instructional video on youtube first. His long hair has been bothering me for weeks. The day before we went to Dallas to visit Chris' family, I decided that I'd had enough. I had to take matters into my own hands.

Aside from giving a trim here or there, I've never cut anyone's hair. I had no idea how to go about cutting a boy's hair. But that didn't stop me. I figured at the rate Paxton's hair grows, even if I made him look like a complete nerd, it wouldn't last for more than a few weeks. Plus, if I really screwed up, I could just avoid taking pictures for a while and he'd be none the wiser. No harm, no foul. Plus, he looks extra cute in hats.

I set up his high chair in front of the television and found an on-demand kids' show for him to watch. I gave him some crackers and a few toys and went to work spraying and coming his long locks. He was curious about what I was doing, particularly as the water spritzed his ears, but he sat mostly still. I faithfully followed the instructional video and only hesitated when I got to his ears. For the life of me, I couldn't think of what a short haircut around the ears looks like. I did my best, but I left it too long just behind his ears. On one side, a little wisp of longer hair sticks out, clearly missed. The only other real error I made was when I thought I was grabbing the layering scissors, but actually had the real scissors in my hand. I hacked off a big chunk of hair at the back of his head. It's noticeable only to me, but I swear I see a little bald spot.

I am now hooked. I want his hair to grow quickly so I can perfect my new skill. I love it!! My mom said it looks like I gave him a bowl haircut, but really, it looks nothing like that, except for when his bangs fall straight on his forehead. My friend, Andrea, was shocked to hear that I'd cut it myself, and said that she might have me do her baby's hair when he needs it. That's a little bit more pressure than I can handle right now. I'll need more practice on my own little guy before I'm ready to subject any other children to my amature ways.

The trip to Dallas was a little tedious. We thought we'd planned it all out so well. Chris got us a room at the Marriott suites, large enough that Paxton could have his own room in which to take naps away from all the excitement of family visiting. Since Chris snores loudly, he offered to sleep on the fold-out couch in the living room, leaving Paxton and I in the bedroom, in the relative quiet. None of our plans panned out. Paxton had no interest in napping, and unlike the days he resists rest at home, we couldn't just let him cry it out until he fell asleep. Other people were in the hotel, and Paxton has taken to screaming at the top of his lungs to announce his displeasure. So napping was a no-go.

His exhaustion showed itself in endearing ways while we all visited later at Craig's house. Paxton ran all around the house, stopping only for moments to grab a toy or a bite to eat. He gets great bursts of energy when he's exhausted, and just before he passes out, he's often at his most adorable, quick to laugh and quick to snuggle. When we pulled out "The Tingler" (that metal thing that you put on a person's head to tickle their scalp), he. loved. it. He kept drawing his shoulders up to his ears, and throwing his head against Chris' shoulder. When I stopped, he would look back at me, smiling, happily preparing himself for the next tickle. When I finally put it back on the shelf, he started bawling with disappointment.

Back at the hotel, Paxton went to sleep quickly. But when I came into the room an hour later to read before bed, he woke up immediately. He nursed until he fell back to sleep. And we continued that ALL NIGHT. I think he got six hours of sleep, total (not in a row) and I got about 4-1/2. I haven't been that tired since he was a newborn. I had that weird headache I get when I don't get enough sleep. He slept in the car for the first two hours of the drive home, but I don't think his sleep schedule got back to normal until a day or so ago. This time change is ruthless and hasn't helped matters much. But he's back to sleeping his normal 12-hours a night now, so all is well in our household. Never underestimate the power of a good night's sleep.

On that note, I'm off to bed. Night, night.

Paxton and Tatum happily playing at the playground...

...and 10 seconds later, Paxton has a meltdown. Tatum was actually fine, just a little affected by the screams that Pax emits.

Henry, just up from his nap! All the babies are getting so much hair all of the sudden! So fuzzy and sweet!

Oh, those eyes. He looks like a beautiful baby alien. That's our sweet friend, Miss Amy, behind my little E.T.

Amy's cutie-pie, Tatum, debating if she wants to plant a big kiss on Paxton. She opted out.

Miss Andrea's little guy, Henry--he's growing up so fast!

Kisses at Kite Fest.

A tongue family portrait.

For Lee, I got in a couple of shots on Kite Day!

I don't think Paxton ever looked up at the sky at the Kite Fest.

Oblivious to all the kites in the sky behind him, Paxton chews his maracca.

Mm...this kite string is strangely delicious.

Daddy and his boy.

Oh, happy baby.

Playing his kazoo.

Stop taking pictures of me and get me off this staircase!!

Climbing the stairs is no big deal to a daredevil.

Mommy! How fun to run into you here!

Sweet, Beautiful Sleep

Here's how I know I have too many pets. One cat is standing on my hip, meowing in my face, begging me for petting and another is laying behind me with one paw on the inside on my elbow and her head on my shoulder. A puppy is at my feet, chewing a rawhide. I have no idea where everyone else is. Sitting on my couch is an invitation to the animals to gather around.

Paxton should be napping, but I think he's just upstairs playing in his crib. His naps have not been aligning well with our daily plans lately. We're meeting our friends at the park in an hour for a playdate. At that time, he should be nice and exhausted. I think of all the babies in our posse, Paxton is by far the most short-tempered. I'll post pictures to make my point. My mom has always described me as "dramatic" and I think my genes bullied themselves to the forefront of my baby boy. He got my blue eyes, my chubby thighs and my pension for emotional outbursts.

The little guy continues to amaze us with his intelligence. This morning, I told him that it was naptime and he ran to the spiral staircase and started climbing. He can't quite get over the base of the gate, but if I give him a little lift, he continues on his way. Speaking of bedtime, it seems that that is one area in which Daddy's technique doesn't compare to Mommy's. I went to San Marcos last night to do some shopping while the boys hung out at home. I wasn't able to get home until an hour after Paxton's normal bedtime. He was still awake, cuddling on Chris' lap, watching a movie. Chris said he tried to put him to bed, but Paxton wanted no part of it. I got home, carried Paxton to his crib saying "Bye" to Daddy, the fish, the velcro strap closing the gate on the stairs, the kitties, you name it. I tucked him in with his favorite stuffed animal, said our goodnight prayers and bid him goodnight. He went right to sleep.

I've noticed that anything that entails a bit of disciplining is not Chris' favorite task as a parent. We make a good pair, because I don't excel in the arena of playtime. I never have. But Chris gets right down on the floor and makes up silly games with Paxton. He craves that interaction, and I do my best when I'm up to bat. Today I scored a homerun when Paxton was standing in his playhouse and I stuck my head through the window. He applauded with clever ways with loud giggles of glee. It's the greatest sound in the world.

Last night, Paxton has the pleasure of running through a sprinkler for the first time. Every time it came his direction and the drops started landing on his head, he would look shocked and then laugh and run away. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm excited for the arrival of summer, so he can enjoy all of the fun water activities that come with the breathless heat. Several of our baby friends are beginning swim classes this month, but our classes will likely be delayed until April, because of scheduling conflicts. I'm so eager to take him to Port Aransas to play in the ocean for the first time. Yesteday, I got him some toys for the sand. His presence has brought out the kid in all of us. He makes everything more fun.

It sounds like he's finally drifted off to sleep. Praise God! We may be a little late for our playdate, but a nap trumps everything else these days! The little energizer bunny needs all the replenishing rest he can get!