Christmas Cards

We've become those people who put their kids on Christmas cards. I think we'll get a good ten years out of this. The above photos are some of the many out takes from the cards.

One of the things I enjoy most about Christmas is sending cards. It's a nice way to stay in touch with people you don't see often. Of course, our cards aren't lengthy novels, but more of a "I was thinking of you during the holidays' sort of thing. As I was flipping through the address book, I ran across the address of one of my old friends. I haven't seen or heard from her since college. The last time I saw her was the first time I'd seen her in many years. I've googled and looked for her on facebook, but it seems she's fallen off the face of the earth. The address I have for her is her parent's, and I'm not even sure they live there anymore. I've decided to send a Christmas card to her anyway, with a note because she obviously won't recognize my married name. I don't know if she'll reply or not, but I'd just like to let her know that I've been wondering what her life has become. It's so odd how easily we lose people in our lives.

The Cheerio Tax

It started slowly. First when Doug was about two months old he would just enviously watch me eat. Then at about three months old he started actively lunging at my plate. At four months old we finally started him on solids and he took to solids like a house on fire. Finally at six months we were told to offer him table food. Then that was the end, there was no going back.

I have not had a meal all to myself since Doug has started eating. He seems to think that he is entitled to a portion of all food on my plate. It doesn't seem to matter if its eggs over easy, a roast beef sandwich or the last slice of cheesecake, he needs to get his share in. However, the very worst thing to eat in his proximity is cheerios. He believes that cheerios are his own personal food. Every time I have a bowl he comes over, opens his mouth and hits whatever part of me is accessible (in case I over looked him some how) and then starts shrieking for a spoonful of cheerios. I estimate he usually gets about a quarter or less of my daily bowl of cereal.

There is one person in this house who seems to be exempt from food sharing. The other night, Jeff and I were finishing off the cheesecake while watching tv in the living room. Doug could see that we were each eating, but who did he stand next to and open his mouth for? That's right, Mommy. Some how Daddy is impervious to this tax.

I think tonight, in protest, I might dump a box of cheerios into Doug's bath. However, knowing him, he's just eat them.

Picture Palooza!

So, I finally got around to diggin up some pics to post from this fall:

This is the three of us in front of our townhouse.

The Boy Who Trick or Treated.



First homemade dinner in the new house, spaghetti and meatballs.



First bath in the new house. Also, the first and last bath in the sink. So much water everywhere...



And finally, when he turned eight months old.




Happy weekend!