somebody is nailing tummy time.



That somebody is Jack.

What? You didn't think this blog was all about Sam now and that we'd forgotten about our first born, did you? Our love is seniority based. Jack came first. (I'm pretty sure when he's older, Sam will probably believe this is true. What? I love me some cat-baby.)

True story (because sometimes I lie on here?), the fan in our room got left on the other night because someone forgot to turn it off (cough Chuck cough - sounds more like something I would do right? Well I didn't! It was Golden Boy!) and I didn't hear Sam when he woke from his baby slumber. Good news - his big brother did, went and got me, and then waited at his door until I got my Mother of the Year butt down the hallway. Thank goodness someone is on their A-game around here.

sam and my dad.

I've decided that since I own this domain, I can obviously use it as a platform for whatever I feel like. I think the whole $10 a year I pay for this blog earns me that right. And today, I feel like sharing "I love my Dad." And that is all.
 
Ok, not quite all.
 
Sam and I spent last Saturday at my parents' place. It was a roaring good time. We put Sam in the same infant seat that I fell off the table in 30 years ago - super safe and fat boy didn't fit - and had fun trying to dodge food that Fe was attempting to give the not yet 3 month old. She does this to get a rise out of me. She's very good at what she does.
 
Sam looked dapper on Saturday in blue plaid shorts and a turquoise colored shirt. Don't worry, pic is coming. Hold your horses and scroll bars. PK was not yet dressed for the day when I showed up - he was sunning himself on the deck. His life. My dream. He saw Sam's outfit and announced he had the same one and would shower and put it on.
 
Who doesn't want to be twinsies with a 12 week old?
 
So he and Sam are outside enjoying the trees (Sam is quite the budding arborist) and PK yells for me to get a camera - "ANY CAMERA" - and come outside. This "any camera" request tells me that whatever he is doing, a cell phone camera might actually be better than me fumbling around with settings on my Nikon monstrosity. (Side note: my Nikon monstrosity is actually a Nikon monstrosity that my Dad bought himself two years ago. So, his Nikon monstrosity. I borrowed it like a month after he bought it and have failed to return it. Whoops. I'll get right on that.)
 
This is what I find:
 
 
Apologies, first off, if you already saw this picture on my Instagram. I care in as much as I do not. Somethings get to be double social media covered. Like when your Dad and your baby are in matching outfits and chillaxin' (this is definitely the definition of chillaxin') on a summer evening.
 
I like that they are in matching outfits.
I like that they are both slumped a little to their right.
I like that Sam cannot sit up yet or totally hold his head up so this chair is probably not the best choice for him at this point in his baby life.
 
So I say to PK, "You break him, you buy him."
And he says "I kind of already did that."
 
Obviously, he didn't break him so try and connect the IVF dots here.
 
We gave Sam my Dad's middle name (Kerry) which is actually the name he goes by because the "P" in PK apparently wasn't cutting it. Samuel Kerry. So this picture is technically S.Kerry and P.Kerry. We settled on "Kerry" kind of like how a stadium sells naming rights. Qwest put up the most money, so Qwest Field. Safeco Insurance...Safeco Field. Of course we didn't sell the rights to name Sam, and I had always wanted to use my Dad's name for a kid as a tribute piece because he is so special to me, but this situation that we were in made it all the more funny and perfect for Sam to have Dad's middle name. Also, if you can't laugh about the way your child came into the world, what do you have?
 
 These two are quite a pair.
 

 
 
 
'Sup, Ladies.

hell is freezing over. there are pictures of me.

It's not that I have something against being photographed - other than that my mouth fits best in an 8x11 - but there are never any pictures of me. That's partly my fault for having a "big" camera that people think is scary. And partly because I never remember that I haven't been in any pictures until it's too late.

Case. Point. This weekend, I made Lucy her photo book to commemorate 2012-2013 in her life (I know. Little late. Sue me. She's 4. She doesn't mind). 25 pages of pictures. Zero pictures of her and Me. The goal for next year's book is three pictures. I feel like that seems doable, and so far I have one from Sam's birth. So, one in seven months. We are going to need to step it up.

Since Sam was born, I've (not so) casually mentioned to Chuck that maybe he could try and every now and then snap a picture of me and Mr. Baby when we are doing something super cute. I'd like there to be evidence that I was a part of his life since right now we are definitely at a 10:1 Chuck and Sam to Susie and Sam picture ratio.

I super nicely and in my sweetest voice (we all know that's a lie) said "Chuck. Maybe take a pic of Sam and me when you think of it? K? Work on that."

He responded with, "Sus. Maybe don't have your boob out every time you and Sam are together? K? Work on that."

Touche Father Allison. Touche.

So I've gone looking for outside help. I'm outsourcing this problem to anyone who is not Chuck.

Not really, but I did have lunch with my absolute very best friend from High School last week. I died that we haven't seen each other in 100 years and three kids but we are making up for lost time.
We had lunch at her place. She's vegan and I'm McDonaldsan, but good news. Her healthy food was delicious and I ate all my vegetables. It was an odd feeling for me to leave a meal feeling good rather than that "I want to die" feeling you get from a Big Mac. Who knew?

Dannie (that's her, she has a name) has always been one of my favorite photographers and thank goodness she is finally getting back behind the lens and starting her own business. She was kind enough to do what I like to do - take pictures of people while you talk to them. It was amazing to actually have someone sit and photograph Sam who wasn't me, and BONUS have them take a few of us together so I can prove to him that I did exist his first year of life.

I am so grateful to Dannie for her amazing pictures. If this is what she can do while making lunch, wrangling a 2 and 3 year old, and talking to me...imagine what she can do at a "real" photo shoot.











The link to her Facebook page is here.

Thank you Dannie - we are treasuring these!

tbt - blog edition.

I hate social media "trends".

Like when everyone did the pic of a celebrity they look like thing or the whole bra-color Facebook status thing. I don't know why I hate them so much, but I do. Maybe because I hate most things until proven OK - like innocent until proven guilty but this is just me being super judgy. I am a gem. It's a wonder I'm married AND have friends.

BUT. I kind of love this whole "throwback Thursday" trend that's going on right now. It makes me so sad that I like something like this so much. And even sadder that I'm...
1. Admitting it
2. About to put it on my blog. A part of me is dying.

So in my whole updating the blog BECAUSE I HAD A BABY (sorry, it hasn't gotten old yet) movement, I updated the "About Us" and "FAQ of Life" sections on the blog. Did you even know those existed? Well they do. On a computer, they are at the top of the page under the masthead. On the mobile view, you can find them in a drop down bar that right now says "The Bliz-og" but...get this... click the arrow and you will see the other pages. I know...who knew?! Life and the Internet are full of endless wonders.

On these pages, I have some links to past blog posts. This is why I love the blog. I have my whole life since 2009 documented in words and pictures. It's fantastic because I can barely remember what I had for lunch on Monday, let alone what we did for Mother's Day 2009 (incidentally, we went to Pike Place Market and my dad threw a napkin at some strangers. Read here. He is also a gem and that is where I get my gem-ness from. Ps. That post is during the "trying to find my voice" era on the blog. It's a little rough in the writing. Forgive me.).

I got to laughing at some of these old posts because it's been long enough that I don't even remember writing them and sometimes I am marginally funny or Chuck is really funny, and who knew?! Rare glimpses of greatness. Is it OK to laugh at your own posts? Or is that like thinking you are pretty? How bad is this? Please to let me know where I'm at on the "I don't really like you anymore" scale. I can't be the only one that has one of those.

So TBT on the blog today is one of my all time favorite "That sounds about right" moments, in case you forgot how amazing things were around here before Sam came and I started blogging about poop. And maybe you needed a giggle to get through Thursday.

Throwback Thursday, Allison Wonderland Style.

Do you remember when we did this?


And then thought it was really funny, so we did stuff like this to him?


Because I had kind of forgotten. Or blacked it out. Tough to tell.

Maybe this is why we didn't really meet our neighbors until four years later, once we'd had Sam. Apparently, the neighborhood likes "Mom and Dad" Chuck and Susie a lot better than "26 and shouldn't be allowed to own a home" Chuck and Susie. Who knew? You can read allllll about it here. And see what else we dressed Mr. Arborvitae up like.

I hate that I did this TBT post, but now have invested too much of nap time into it and nap times cannot be wasted. So there.

a little lucy and sam.

Don't think that I've forgotten about my favorite niece just because I now have my favorite baby.

I've actually gotten a fair number of questions about Miss Lu lately and what she's been up to. Lucy is 4 1/2 now, enjoys One Direction ("I love Harry so much, Sister"), cutting her own hair, and doing gymnastics for the "cute swimsuit you get to wear". She is obviously rocking life.

Lucy and my sister moved out of state so that's why Babe hasn't been on here much lately. I miss her terribly but love how much she already loves her cousin. We have some gems of the two of them together during visits. Thought I'd share a few case your cuteness or "aaaaahhhh" meter was low this Sunday morning. I'm such a giver.

Lucy came to visit every day I was in the hospital after having Sam. She wore "Big Sister" scrubs to his birth. That didn't get confusing at all. At school, she told people she was having a baby brother and someone said no, you are having a cousin. She said "No, my Sister is having my baby brother." Not confusing at all.


But actually, let's be clear here. She did not come to see me in the hospital. She came to see her "Little Fart" (again, she rocks at life and nicknaming).


Then she visited us our first day at home and took a picture of him to be the background on HER cell phone. She has one. Basically, it's a cheap game system but she does send a lot of "ahdgflnkasld" texts to us.


She is FABULOUS. The hair (pre-self cut). The sunglasses. The cell.

Then she spent a day "babysitting" Sam where she did a lot of creepy kid things like knew that turning down the volume on the radio would make him stop crying or that he was about to wake up and be hungry 5 second before opening his eyes. You know, creepy little kid "look at the angels" kind of things.

So during said babysitting day, Lucy says to Sam, "Wez just had lunch and now wez gonna watch some cartoonies and then wez gonna fall asleep because it's nap time."

By all accounts, Sam nodded and did just that.




And now you have died because those are the cutest pictures you have ever seen. As my sister would say, all the little lambies go nigh-nigh. Look at those two lambies.

So there you go. A little Lu for your morning.
She will be up for a whole week in August so be prepared for a repeat post of adorable cousin/faux sibling pics.

it was kind of a crappy day (pun so intended).

So this is what happened this morning all over my comforter. So many ways to start this post. Aahhh, where to begin. First off, sorry for the baby poo shot on your screen. My brother is somewhere gagging and screaming "SUSAN" at the top of his lungs...Sorry brudder.

Second, how much do you love Karma for turning my day upside down with this little gem? Guess what today was not at our house? Groundhog's Day. Today was definitely not like every other day and I'm pretty sure Karma is a you-know-what and threw this (actually, rather nicely ejected this from Sam's pampers) my way as a slap in the face to yesterday's blog post.

"Oh Susie, life can be so dull sometimes staying home with your beautiful baby. BAM. Poo shot all over you and the bed."

I really love my comforter. Actually, I don't love it so much as it's what I already own making it currently the free option over trying to find something else - and something else that would work in our room without a total redo. Comforters are like Lebowski's rug. They tie the whole room together. And maybe we don't have a lavish bedroom, but I like it just fine. And fine starts with that comforter.

First things first, I cleaned the baby who, not surprising, had come out pretty ahead on this one. Almost didn't even need to wipe him because really, what actually stayed in the diaper? Then took that picture above and mass texted The Girls to see what their thoughts were.

Dania suggested I rub Sam's nose in it to teach him a lesson. Great suggestion but it doesn't solve the massive dump on my comforter. (side bar - is this post going to far? Is this the "every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings" but in our world it's a poop post turning you into a mommy blogger?).

I decided to start by grabbing my favorite thing in my whole life right now, after Mr. Baby of course. It's name is Fels-Naptha. It's a bar of soap that's been around for 100 years except nobody actually told me about it until I had Sam, and even then no one actually told me, I just read about written by some (say it with me) Mommy Blogger.

Oooh, is this the actual moment I go down the Mommy Blog rabbit hole? First poop then reviewing an item. Yup. This is it.



Ok, so Fels-Naptha is amazing. It's just a bar of laundry soap that you rub on stains. It looks like a bar of dial and it costs about as much. It's in the laundry section and is wrapped in paper - super classy. Because of this bar, I have yet to lose a single item to poop, puke, or my general lack of hygiene (like the dress I haven't worn in a year that I hung up dirty with a mystery stain all over the front - clean and perfect again). I used Spray and Wash the other day on a shirt of mine that most of my dinner fell on and had to rewash it with my magic soap because the Spray and Wash didn't cut it.

I grabbed the comforter and soaked the "problem area" (is that better?) in the bath tub. Then I rubbed that bar all over it and the fabric against itself and against the bar. I did this a few times, then one final time and let it sit a few minutes (to think about what it had done) which is what the instructions say to do.

And...


Viola.

Clean comforter. Of course, for good measure, we hopped in the car with the wet comforter and headed to Fe's house to use her giant washing machine and an unholy amount of oxy clean to make sure we are really, really, really, clean.

Definitely not a day like we've had before, but c'mon - when getting out a poop stain is so fair the highlight of your day week  and deserves a blog post, well... my new life. I tell you though - elbows deep in a poop comforter today and it was still the most fun because I had the littlest cleaning assistant in his favorite chair watching me work away. Thank god he's cute.

I'm just going to add this all to his bill. Even though it came clean.

i am learning to self entertain.

So Chuck's leaving for work yesterday and I say, "Hey, do you know what day it is for Sam and Me?" He says no and I say "It's Groundhog's Day. Everyday is the same day."

I'm not complaining. I love being home like I have never loved anything else. But, right now, it's a bit like Groundhog's Day. I've told Sammy repeatedly to not drive angry and we sing "I've got you babe" each morning. If you don't get these jokes/references then do yourself a favor and have a Bill Murray Saturday this weekend. Watch Groundhog's Day, and follow it up with Caddy Shack and What About Bob. Consider it an education.

Anywhoo, so today during playmat time I say "Hey Sam, wanna have a mini photo sesh (so mommy can play photoshop while you nap)?" which is more fun than vacuuming for the umpteenth time.


"WHAT?!"

"You know what I mean. I take pictures, you look cute, and together we make the Internet a better place while making fewer friends because people will be jealous of my super adorable baby?"


"You wanna take a pic of me looking angelic?"

I told him I wasn't so sure if this was super angelic or more like baby "come at me bro!". Look at the hands. They tell a much different story than the face.

So I told him that maybe just a more normal, eyes on the camera, smizing - something that says "Wow Susie, how did you capture that moment?"


 Or he shows me the face he's planning on giving CPS to report his terrible mother who makes him do tummy time so he can hold up his melon head (99th percentile) and make sure said melon head isn't flat on the back.

Since tummy time had been going on a resonable amount of time, I flipped him over so he could kick and squeal and was immediately informed that he is allergic to his play mat.


Two sneezes and several fake coughs later and I told him he better get his acting job figured out because there is no way those moves are getting him out of any middle school days, no matter how bad those three years are.

Then the smiles started because he knew I was right. Only a mom for 10 weeks and I'm already right all the time.


I got the tongue out "I'm my mother's son" version and the "check out them dimples" version. Too hard to decide which one so you get both and you are welcome.

I'd had about enough of on his back photos by this time so I sat him up in the Boppy, which apparently is a smile killer.


We call this "Winston Churchill" baby. You either get it or you don't. I refuse to pander.


I told Sam that fitting a fist in your mouth is my party trick and no he cannot use it, but that I recognize what he's telling me with the fist in the mouth and well, "mooooooooo".

And that is where photo session Wednesday ends.

Oh and ps: yes, he did that to his face and yes, we are considering having him declawed. I could have photoshopped it out but why?

we are a pair.


Sometimes you just need to cry it out. It is a wonder Chuck leaves us home alone together.
Also, we are going for a mother-son matching thing. Face. Shirt color. Emotional state. I plan to love him so much no woman will ever be good enough for him. I'm pretty sure I am nailing it so far. Good luck Future Sam.

new baby. new blog look.

Ok so it's not some dramatic change, I get it, but at least it's been updated. Oh and you have to view it in a web browser, not on the mobile version, otherwise it's really not much...

I think my biggest Internet pet peeve is when people forget they had children or new children and leave their blog "The Smith Three" when they are on kid number 4. I've seen it a thousand times. And every time it drives me crazy. These are the things I obsess about. Feel free to pray for me. And for Chuck in his dealings with me.

So. We are now officially updated. Sam was really strike three in the blog needing to be updated - I was a tad behind.

1. The blog "tag" was still a "twenty something married couple". While we are still married (in the loosest sense of the word. Kidding) we most certainly are not twenty-something anymore. (Can you hear my gentle sobs through to your computer?)

2. The average age of the two of us in our previous masthead was... 24 3/4 years old. I did the math. So, while I looked fabulous at 24, that was six years ago and maybe, just maybe, I've aged slightly. Though I want to claim Peter Pan and say Chuck and I are the Lost Boys, we are definitely both finding gray hairs. Him more than me, for the record. And how are those sobs of mine coming in through your speakers?

3. And finally, strike three, Sam. Did you know we have a baby? Just checking.

And so I decided to spend my morning updating the blog.

Here is your picture present to say "Thanks for stopping by and seeing the new-ish design".



You are welcome. I have no caption for this. You can decide what you think and why this happened.

Enjoy your Saturday. I will be spending mine dealing with Chuck and selling things on Craigslist. Wish me luck.

it's basically a pregnancy pact.

Nap times are gifts from God meant for photo editing. I'm pretty sure making pictures sparkle is more important than laundry, dishes, and anything else that I should be doing. A happy mom is a well photoshopped mom. I've decided.

I was opening some folders today and found beautiful pictures of my beautiful besties and thought - dang, those girls are so pretty and when was the last time the blog saw them? Sam is eating up all their screen time. That. Kid.

Around the friend group, we are in the year of the pregnancies. I'm reasonably certain that's one of the Chinese years or zodiac signs or something like that. By the end of 2013, we will have four new babies. Heck, by the end of the summer actually if you want to get specific about it.

This is us last September at Dania's daughter's 2nd birthday.
Don't I have the best and most gorgeous best friends? And I get four of them because I am special like that. Winner winner, we are amazing at life. That's how the saying goes right?


Jessica (in green) is 15 weeks pregnant here and I told them all that day that I was officially pregnant - 5 whole weeks along. What? When people know the exact minute embryos are placed into you, you don't exactly get to wait three months to tell them it worked. I made it a week and they were sweating bullets because, again, when people know you are taking a blood test to see if you are pregnant and then you go dark on them for a week, well, this was a very happy day.

Fast forward to January, we had Jessica's baby shower. Libby couldn't be there so we were down a member, which always feels weird when even just a fifth of the team is missing.


By this time, we knew Jessica's Lucas was coming in March and that Sam was already huge and coming in May. Dania (in black) was 20 something weeks along and we were dying to know if it was going to be a boy or girl to add to our growing baby collection. And Emy (in red) had just found out she was pregnant. We had nailed it.

In March, we had our Lucas.


Of course we were all there for his midnight birth waiting in the lobby for our newest best friend. He did not disappoint. This is the next day - obviously a midnight picture would not have been this cute and that is what really matters. By now, we knew Sam was really huge - Jessica's nurses may have laughed at me - and that Dania was having a boy. Lucas in March, Sam in May and we'd have a Noah in June.
 
This is us at my shower in April.
 
 
Aside from the fact that I look like I might eat them all, I think we look gorgeous. In this picture, we are one week away from finding out that Emy would be having our Girl. She is going to be so spoiled. And already has three possible prom dates.
 
Two weeks before Dania had Noah, we had our monthly dinner. The group has changed a little since September.
 
 

And then this last Wednesday, we drove to Dania's to have our first monthly dinner with our newest member. Baby Noah was born June 26th and already has the most hair of anyone, us included.


When we get together for Paisley's birthday in September, we might just have Emy's baby girl by then. Until then, we will hold our breath waiting for our last 2013 baby to join the group.

Chuck has accused us of having a pregnancy pact. Obviously.

It's amazing how things have a way of working out because if I had gotten pregnant on my schedule, I wouldn't have been pregnant with my best friends. Not that I loved waiting four years to meet my Sam, but knowing that he already has best friends, makes everything just that much more worth it.

Because if these babies have even  half as good a friendship as the five of us have, they are already so blessed.

we have a two month old

Okay so we've had a two month old for four whole days now and I haven't blogged about it. In the mommy blog world, I think this probably makes me a sub par parent and the likelihood of the baby being taken away from us is at an all time high. Whatever. We were on vacation.
 

Anyways. Two months.
They have been amazing and fantastic and every single cliche any new parent always says. There is nothing new I can say. It's just plain wonderful.

I get asked a lot about Sam's temperament and what he's actually like - aside from the stages of grief when he wakes up and his miracle baby status. Well, he's definitely his father's son. And Thank.God. He's super chill, super relaxed, and probably super likely to just love that ship's wheel in a few years and appreciate the craftsmanship in making it. Sam wants to be a part of everything which, apparently, is exactly like Baby Chuck was. But with all this "just like Dad" talk, there is the concern about time management as he ages, love of puns, and the ability to beat a joke into the ground. Time will tell.

The truth is that Sam is a very, very good baby. People say how lucky we got. We know we are. He rarely has melt downs, and his crying is more like a civil protest until things change, then he's fine. We swaddle him, lay him in his crib and walk away at bed time. He's been sleeping well since day one and when he wakes up it's a quick feed, a diaper change, a burp and back down. There's no coaxing him back to sleep or talking him off the ledge. We've never actually had a night time scream fest. Knock.On.Wood.

I know. Don't hate us.

But, here is why I don't feel bad:

We didn't go for the free baby/complimentary baby model that's available on the market. We paid up. A lot. When you pay for a Mercedes, you expect heated seats and leather interior. We paid for the premium "angel baby" package and Sam is not disappointing us. He has a lifetime warranty of love and was worth every penny.

Here are some pics of our Sammy - two month extraordinaire.



This is what we call a strong gene pool.



There is a constant issue with the other baby in the mirror. The other baby is often seen being held by Sam's mom and dad, and staring at Sam. Sam is not a fan of him.





This is his best friend Lucas and they are holding hands and no, I did not stage this. Oh and speaking of Jenny Craig, they are actually two months apart but the same size. And Lucas is big for a four month old. These boys are tanks and wearing six month clothing.


The first smile we caught on camera. Thank god for iPhones. Check out that dimple. Hello, Ladies. He is now giving away smiles for free so expect a lot more of this face to show up.
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