Leaving this computer for the weekend...

So I thought I'd post a few pics first:

Starting to explore climbing:

Hanging on my leg while I was trying to make dinner:

Just pure cuteness (the 2nd one is my current favorite):

This is the dog feeding her own-damn-self 'cause I was taking too long, I guess (her head and shoulders are in the dog food bag):

The year was 2003...

With Christmas barreling towards us at the speed of light and our Disney trip coming soon after, it has me reminiscing about this particular year.

We had never been to Walt Disney World and, frankly, had no plans to go. One day in August of that year, we were sitting on the front porch being nosey relaxing and watched the family across the street load up into a limo to head to the airport for a trip to see the World. Roni said, "I wish we could go there." Well, for some reason, I caught a fever that I can't seem to shake to this day. That evening I started researching on the computer. I called her over and said, "How does December sound?" She was blown away. By now she may be regretting those words because I can't seem to stay away from there. Of course, for our maiden trip, I didn't know any better and actually bought the tickets online from the Disney site. Now, I'm a deal hunter (and cheap frugal) and know where to go and get the best prices.

Katie was about to turn 10 and we elected to keep it a secret from her for a while. We had also decided that this was going to be our Christmas gift for all of us.

The dilemma: Although Katie was 10, she still professed to believe in Santa. You all might feel that's OK, but 10 is a bit old in my opinion. why should this fictitious dude get all the accolades while we get the fish eye when she opens her presents, dammit?! Now, how were we going to explain why Santa had a big ol' budget cut this year? Not to mention the fact that her father was out of work and was getting her nothing. She was used to "Santa" showing up at both houses. Inspiration struck! It was long about November and Katie started talking about writing her letter to Santa for the love of Pete (she knew about the trip by now). As much as I loathed grimaced over the Santa thing, I didn't want to completely burst her bubble so I said, "OH! Didn't you know?! Didn't anyone ever tell you about the cut-off age for gifts from Santa?!" A confused look ensued. "Well, Santa can't deliver presents to everybody forever. Why do you think that we don't still get gifts from him? He has to have room in his sleigh gag for all the new babies born each year so, once a kid turns 10 years old, the parents take over for him in the giving of gifts. That's why we're going to Disney this year. It's our gift to you for Christmas" (she really, really wanted to go back then). This made perfect sense to her and I patted myself on the back for being a damn genius.

What a great trip that was. We drive down and when we left here, the temperature was in the bone-chilling teens. When we passed through Orlando, the temp was 80. Sweet, sweet bliss. The crowds in the parks were non-existent. It was absolutely perfect for a first trip when you are simply amazed at the sheer size and the pure Magic of the World.

If you've never been and are planning on going some day, or even if you've been a bunch of times, but never in early December, I highly recommend it. Not to over use a phrase, but there really is no better way to put it...It's Magical!

Shout out to Rachel who will be leaving for her first December trip in a few weeks. Have the time of your life, my friend!

Lovin' his new(ish) toy!

A friend from work brought this in for Kevin (her granddaughter outgrew it). He loves it.

Need a haircut much?

Mr. dramatic...

Soooo...

'Sup? How y'all doin? Apparently my life has become incomparably non-eventful as evidenced by my lack of blogging.

Let's see....hmm...well, there was the time...uh, no. Nothing.

Ummm...Kevin seems to be actually growing before my very eyes. Suddenly, almost all his clothes are too short for him. His head is just about skimming the bottom of the kitchen table. How can that be?!

His attachment seems to be going very well. The SW was impressed, but WTF is with his crappy sleeping habits? He was improving and waking up less, but in the last few days he's backslid. He had constipation issues over the weekend. Could that have been the problem? I believe that problem is resolved, but we'll see how he does tonight. When I got home from work Sunday night (exhausted, I might add) and he woke up around 2AM and would not go back to sleep unless he was being held, I caved and brought him into my bed. He wasn't content to sleep beside me. Nooooo. He had to sleep laying on my chest. Very sweet and bonding and all, but my night of restorative sleep was in the toilet. I was simply exhausted Monday and was eternally grateful that he took an almost 3 hour nap Monday morning 'cause I napped right along with him. Last night he woke up throwing a fit multiple times. He would not go back to sleep easily and he was angry. I truly believe he wanted to come into my bed again. I thought about it and decided against it and he made me pay. Oh, yes ma'am, he did. This boy has a temper. A fiery, nasty temper sometimes. You may disagree, but I truly believe that I need to nip that shit in the bud early. I picture him getting older and being "that kid" that is a holy brat and, being there are no males in this household, he needs to learn that acting the fool is not the way to go to get your way. 'Cause if he thinks it is? And he gets older? And into the teen years? WTF will I do? On the whole? He's a happy boy that smiles easily. He's affectionate and smiles and laughs most of the day. Bedtime is the biggest issue. My instinct says to let him cry it out once his needs have been attended to, but I've been made to feel that that is wrong and I'm being a bad mommy to do that. I don't want to do the wrong thing here. I wish I knew what the right thing is. There's a couple of bloggers that I read that have teen sons and the relationship that they have with them is the kind that I dream of. I'm sure they're not perfect, but the relationship between mom and son seems so strong. I want that. Everything I do between now and then will help define what happens later. It's such an awesome responsibility. I don't want to screw it up.

Huh.

Weird. I go my whole life believing I'm of a certain ethnic background and find out that, huh, nope. What I grew up believing...1/2 Italian, the rest a mix of German, Irish, Welsh, Dutch. What I find out...1/2 Italian and ?!SWISS?! Yo. Strange shit to find this out after all these years. I guess it's even weirder for my mom to find this out. I guess it's pretty close to "German", but...it's just strange.

Moving on.

My home study social worker came for my post-placement visit tonight. Awesome that it's over. Well, except for that pesky name change thing. That last attempt left me traumatized more than I thought, I guess. I've got to get over there and get it done already or I'll wind up explaining to a teenager why it is he's been called Kevin all his life and his legal name has "Kevin" nowhere in it. Damn my procrastinating ass. Gah!

The addition cannot come too soon

Listen. I love my son. Nay! I adore him! I couldn't love him more if I had given birth to him. That being said, I want him the fuck out of my bedroom he really needs his own space that isn't behind a curtain with actual preferably sound-proofed walls. I didn't mind getting up with him during the night and giving him his bottle, but now. Now, since he's conquered the pulling up thing, he's decided he wants to fucking practice it in the middle of the night in his crib. This is, apparently, normal for a kid to do when he learns to pull up, but most people have their kid in his/her own room and are blissfully unaware of this shit. I guess they do it because it's so damn easy to pull up in the crib. What, with all the freakin' bars to use as a handhold and such. (What? Cribs couldn't have been made like a box with smooth sides , or something? Oh, I kid.) It's so cute during the day watching him do it and I'm so proud! At 3AM, not so much. For the past two nights I've been ousted from my own bedroom. I simply could not take it anymore.

I need my sleep, people, or things can be ugly during the day. Don't judge me.

The night starts out normally enough. He wakes up and takes his bottle and goes right back to sleep. But then. Then he wakes back up about 45 minutes later babbling because he's excited to be standing and simultaneously whining because...oh, I don't know...because he's tired, maybe? Not to mention that he hasn't figured out how to get back down into a laying position and he realizes that he's stuck there standing. After laying him back down about 528 times and covering him up and he continued to do it...well, I said "fuck it" and grabbed my blanket and headed down to the living room to sleep. Yes indeedy...I left my boy on his own to figure it the hell out or collapse in a heap from exhaustion. I figure it's no different than all you lucky people who don't have to hear every single whimper or whine because your child is in his own room. The difference is, my room is now his room and I'm in the living room. It's just so wrong, man, just so wrong.

Come hell or high water, that addition is going on ASAP.

The pond

OK...Roni brought to my attention that I haven't posted pics of the pond...this is the pond we built...

The first pic is before we practically broke our backs digging. The last two are the results of our labor: