I got to thinking this week, to Logan, I am Wonder Woman. I have
the ability to fix all, big and small, to make it all better. I know there will be a day when I no longer have this ability. I dread the moment when he doubts what I can do instead of wondering if there is anything I can't do. It is sort of cool, this power I have to make things all better. Daddy doesn't really yet have that power. But when I scoop Logan up in my arms, the tears stop almost immediately, and he clings closely, relaxing almost instantly. He has faith in my "perfection" despite my many faults. How old will he be when this wears off? I dread the day that happens! He seems to be growing up so fast, and I am trying so hard to remember every moment because I know that before long, he'll be all grown up - a big boy and not a baby anymore! I'm grateful that my mistakes are mostly forgotten and the good stuff is sticking with him.
Well, this week we all seem to have a case of the crud. It is a bit of a stomach flu, making you feel nausious, tired, cranky and sleepy. Not fun. Logan has been especially clingy because of this. That can be extra annoying taxing if you also feel icky, like I do. I've had my hands full taking care of Logan and my other big baby, TJ. To make matters worse, we've been having to come in at about 5am all week for various events. A urinalysis, PT, PT Test, training, and gigs. Throw in our land lord deciding THIS was the week she wanted to fix the major plumbing issue between our masterbath and the 2nd floor's masterbath and you have a long week. If our parents remember, the pipes in both of our shower style bathrooms leak down through the ceiling into the 2d floor. Big problem. At first they thought it was the showers. They recaulked the showers. Then they thought it was the sinks. Well, those had bad piping, remember Dad? But those weren't the issue either. Now our masterbath room is demolished. They took a jack hammer and tore up our standing shower floor and completed it by digging a trench along the doorway leading into the laundry room. I need to take pictures. Ugh. They also took my sink, complete with cupboard, vanity and mirror off the wall, propped it up against the linen closet door making it impossible to get into the drawers or into the cabinet. I wish they had told us they were going to be this extensive. I would have gotten a few more things out of the bathroom. Like Q tips and more toilet paper. They also dug a trench behind my washing machine in my laundry room. We can't give Logan a bath; that's in our master bath. We can't do laundry. (Don't worry, we haven't resorted to turning our undies inside out and backwords....) Annoying. They said that it would be only a few days. At the rate they are going, I doubt that things will be "right" by Monday. The tile is decimated, my hardword is history. This is not going to be right for a while. And! AND! Monsoon season kicked in full blast this week. Miserable. I'm pretty glad we gave in and got our driver's side window fixed a couple weeks ago so it wouldn't get us all wet when we drove. The best $60 we've spent in a while!
On the up! Logan is getting bigger and bigger and cuter and cuter. This past week he turned 9 months old. Time has flown by! First, his "Rock St
ar" laugh has morphed. He has this big belly laugh and squeel! that is so freakin adorable. He squeels when TJ blows raspberries on his belly or neck. Logan is getting pretty fast at crawling. Although he looks a bit like the Hunch Back of Notre Dame when he tries to go fast. We lost the charging cable to our video camara, or else we'd video it. Maybe I'll try with my cell phone or something. We shamefully, I know, call it his retard crawl. Our babysitter, Rachael, the first time she saw him crawl like that bluntly said, "He crawls funny! It's soooooo cute!!" (She's 15.) Logan likes to be "chased" around the house and he squeels if you goose him and exclaim, "You better crawl faster! I'm going to get you!!" This of course means that you have to crawl as well. I honestly don't know how he does it. Crawling on the hardwood floors kills my knees. Maybe that's why he does the retard cra
wl. The boy's hair is pretty much settling on being strawberry blonde, I think. You can see by these two pictures that it looks awefully orange! It isn't really carrot top orange, but more brown-ish dirty blonde red. Cute. It is long enough now that it doesn't stick straight up like alfalfa anymore. THANK GOD. We felt like we as parents finally accomplished something! We have gotten Logan to stop crawling up onto the cable boxes, stop crawling after the cats behind the couch, and stop pulling himself onto the piano bench. These were all no-nos, and everytime for the past, FOR-EV-ER we have been telling him, "No, not for Logan. Get down. Don't go there." He finally stops, turns around, doesn't have a hissy fit, and comes back to us from the off limits place. Woo-Hoo! Now we just have to be consistent. Oh! This week Logan did another cute thing. (Tell me it isn't so! Not him!) He bit me when I was feeding him. It happens. It isn't that horrible, but I do flinch and yelp when it happens. I cried, "Ouch!" and he sat back. I stuck my bottom lip out and told him it hurt. He looked at me like he usually does. But instead of crying because I scolded him a bit, he got a weird look. He cocked his head and leaned up to my face. He grabbed my cheeks with his fat little hands and kissed my stuck out lip. TJ happened to witness the entire event and even teared up and said, "Oh my gosh! He just kissed you because you had an owie!" Feel good Hallmark family type moment I tell ya.
I'll get pictures of the tore up bathroom. I"ll try and use my phone to take video of the retard crawl. Oh, did I mention that Logan chucked my cellphone, sending it flying through the air and slamming it into the floor? The slide won't slide. It goes up to the 3 4 5 buttons but no higher. If I wanted to dial anything with a 1 2 or 3, I'm out of luck. So I got a new phone. It is ALMOST the same number as my old phone number. If you take a look at my old number, you will see it is formatted like this: xxx-xxxx-xxxx. Right? Well, everything is the same except you'll take the 8699 and change it to 2215. So, it now is: xxx-2215-xxxx. Confused? Shoot me an email and I'll send you the full number.