Little stinker

While Sara seems to have inherited some of my "taking self too seriously" tendencies, I think Brady has a future as a practical joker. He is such a little stinker!


This is the face he makes lately when I point a camera at him.


Anyway, he thinks it is hi-larious to be naughty and get a reaction. For example, if he is unrolling the toilet paper, he is looking over his shoulder the whole time waiting for me to notice.

Another favorite game of his is to wait at the base of the stairs for me to come for him, at which point he starts laughing hysterically while climbing as fast as he can.

Yep, this one is a little stinker.

Our boy

Newborn


One month


Two months (and yes, we shaved his head)


Three months


Four months


Five months


Six months


Seven months


Eight months


Nine months


Ten months


Eleven months

The Life Unblogged

Just shy of one year ago, I looked like this. My two black eyes are a story in and of themselves, but for now let's just focus on that belly. "They" say that women carry boy babies differently than girls, and it was certainly the case for me.


If Sara's birth was like a lazy drive on a Sunday afternoon, his was like a few laps on a road race course. Around five hours after labor began, and after pain so fast and intense I thought my body might split in two, he arrived: Our boy, Brady Paul Mowles.

And this is what he looks like now.


My blue-eyed boy. The word I usually use to describe Brady is "intense." I would very rarely describe him as mellow. If he is happy, he is moving around, smiling, bouncing, cackling, and so on. If he is NOT happy, which is a fairly common occurrence, he is whining, or crying, or making this super-adorable hyperventilating sound. Larry likes to joke that Brady makes me frantic, because when he wants something, Lord help you if he has to wait for it!

So, that might explain why it has taken me almost a year to post a picture of my little man, my Brady Boy, on this blog. Between him and my sweet Sara Jo, life has been pretty darned busy--overwhelming, a huge adjustment, but altogether wonderful.

It's a new year...and I kind of miss my blog

All day today I have had the famous Ferris Bueller quote in my head: "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."

Two thousand eleven was an absolute whirlwind. I had a baby. Larry started a new job. We bought a new home. Things have been so incredibly busy, and even though I am in the thick of it every day, I somehow feel like I am missing it.

Blogging is a way of pausing to reflect--of stop[ping] and looking around once in a while. So, in 2012, I hope to start to do it a little bit again.

Letters to Sara on her Fourth Birthday, Part Two

Sara Jo –

I am so proud of my new 4 year old! How did you grow up so fast? Gone are the days when you were shorter than my knees, or not completing words or sentences, or not having balance. Now you dance and sing and climb on the backyard wall with no problems. You aspire to be, and truly are, our princess. You make a great big sister, and baby Brady watches you whenever you’re near.

I can’t wait to see what the new year will bring. You’ve already said you want a SpiderMan party next year, but I’m pretty sure that will go through a bit of metamorphoses over the next 365 days. I can’t wait to share your 4’s with you.

I love you Boomer.

Daddy

Letters to Sara on her Fourth Birthday, Part One

My precious baby girl:

Just like that, another year has come and gone. And what a year it was. A lot of things happened, but most notably, we expanded our family, and you are now a big sister! You lived through all the changes that came along with pregnancy, bringing home a baby, and your daddy changing jobs. And, aside from a few power struggles and potty rebellions, you really weathered it all beautifully.

And you are still such a beautiful soul. This is going to sound like bragging, and it totally is, but you are the kind of kid other parents want their kid to hang out with. You are so reasonable most of the time and so even-tempered. You love to have fun and be silly, and you do like to win/go first/have what you want, but you are usually pretty good about sharing, and you are not aggressive at all. You have been great with Brady, too. You did ask me at one point, “When Brady’s done, can I have a sister?”, and you occasionally still ask for a sister, but most of the time you just try to make him smile and laugh. “Mommy, Brady’s smiling at me!” I always answer the same way: “That’s because he loves you!” You don’t like when he pulls your hair or tries to take your things, but you are always gentle with him, and he adores you!

You are such a little person now, complete with likes (dancing, singing, food, stickers, workbooks, princesses, and television), dislikes (getting your hair combed, any kind of sauce), and habits (bedtime nose-picking, looking over the top of your glasses). You have become incredibly articulate. You ask me deep questions about things like Heaven, and whether I am going there anytime soon. You are also quick to correct me when I get something wrong: “Mommy, I didn’t say that!” You have also gotten so brave. In 2010 I couldn’t get you near the water at Shaver Lake. This year, you swam around in your life vest! You have also become much braver socially. You have moments of shyness, but you don’t hide your face in my leg much anymore.

You are just such a fun, smart, precious little girl. I worry all the time about whether I’m giving you enough attention, whether I am playing with you enough, whether I expect too much, whether you feel my unconditional love, whether I’m screwing you up, and all kinds of other things. My goal is still the same as it always has been, though: to love you, and to help you become who you were born to be.

I love you, my sweet four-year-old Sara Jo. Every night, I still thank God for you. I am proud that you are my daughter, and I can’t wait to watch you continue to grow, learn, and thrive. You are still the wonderful blessing who changed my life.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living (and beyond!) my baby you’ll be.

Love,

Mommy

P.S. Did you know that peas are knees? “That’s silly! Did you know that chairs are bears?” And so on. J

Letters to Sara on her third birthday, part two

Sara –

You are a big girl: three years old now! How did time go by so quickly? I remember bringing you home like it was yesterday.

This past year was a big year for you; you started preschool and really got into your books and puzzles. You enjoy singing and dancing more each day. I am proud of everything you have become. You treat your friends and family very kindly and sweetly, and are a good listener.

This next year promises to be a big one. First, we’ll be adding to our family and you’ll get to start your lifelong job of being a big sister. You will get to climb into a “big girl bed” every night. And I think we might start introducing you to an organized sport or two (if Daddy has his way).

I look forward to seeing you grow and progress again this year, and no matter what, I love you very much.

Daddy