Never too early to start telling time

Yesterday I came downstairs in the morning to get Jackson's breakfast started. He came with me. Baby Sullivan was upstairs in his room eyeing the whimsical butterflies and such hanging from his play mat thingy.

A few steps into the cheerio distribution, I did a 360 and Jackson was out of sight. I - panicking -called up to Scott, who was finishing up getting ready for work in his back bathroom, to make sure Jackson wasn't man-handling Sullivan (still can't leave the two alone together for even a millisecond). There was a pause, then a giggle (from Scott). He said, "Tricia, come up here, you gotta see this."

When I arrived on the scene, nothing looked all that unusual. Sullivan was still wide-eyed on his mat and Jackson was nearby, playing with some toys. I said, "What?" He said, "Look a little closer. You'll get it." It took me forever, but finally I started giggling too. Apparently, Jackson had snatched my silver watch from downstairs somewhere and had the bright idea of accessorizing Sullivan. There my three-week little dude was with a metal band around his wrist.

The moment was just adorable. (Maybe you had to be there)

Random pictures of Baby Sullivan...I love him

Now, the actual pictures of Easter

The fun of traditions begin

We've experienced several holidays since Jackson was born. They've all been great and all, but none up until now have really MEANT much to him. Christmas was the closest, but still he could have been just as happy with a box and some tissue paper as with the mega loot he was gifted.

EASTER struck me this year in a way different than ever before. And it was because I began recognizing the incredible responsibility ad reward Scott and I have for creating holiday meaning for our children. I found myself scurrying around like a chicken with her head cut off (morbid use of words, considering the holiday's obsession with chicks, I suppose) the days before Easter weekend, piecing together Jackson's (and Sullivan's) baskets, thinking through whether we would dye eggs on Easter morning, or make it a day-before thing, deciding how to introduce the Easter bunny into the mix (should the basket be from Mommy and Daddy or the easter bunny... or maybe the hidden eggs should be from the Easter bunny and everything else should be about the story of Jesus)... it was so much fun. And in the midst of the fun, I found myself putting pressure on myself to make our family traditions the SPECIAList I could possibly make them. Traditions meant so much to me and my family growing up. And, let's face it, when one looks back on one's coveted memories of childhood, don't the traditions (holiday or not) rise to the surface as the brightest? Not just because of gifts or candy, but because SOMEBODY cared enough to make them special. That somebody is now ME. I'M that somebody.

It was an awesome holiday. And a marker of many more to come.

I LOVE TRADITIONS!

GRILLING...

... makes summer so much easier. Cooking dinner is transformed into an outdoor affair. It is fast, convenient, simple, and SO enjoyable.

We got a phenomenal portable grill for our wedding (THANKS AJ AND UD), which uses a mini propane tank. And we would get by with a dome charcoal grill for larger affairs. But this past weekend we finally SPLURGED and bought a gas grill. The real deal. Putting it together... note instructions are placed in photo only as a prop. Much of the assembly was used WITHOUT them. Men! Ha.

The fruits of Scott's labor... barbeque chicken the next night! SOMEBODY is happy about grilling season (who are we fooling, Jackson is happy about most everything!)

Ahhh, to be a baby

We are having our house reroofed today (huge home improvement project for the year!). I feel like I am in the middle of a war zone - banging and scraping and drilling and what-ever-else-roofers-do-only-feet-away-from-you-head.

Despite the ruckus, Sullivan is paying no mind. He is PASSED out. When an exceptionally loud bang occurs, he might crinkle an eyebrow, but the eyes remain tightly shut and dream-world goes uninterrupted.

Ahhh, to be a baby.

Professional Photo Shoot

I had a dermatology appointment on Good Friday. I go frequently to have my moles checked in on. I've found that dermatologists don't mess around when you mention you have family history with melanoma.

So, when the doctor ended the appointment by ordering me to pay special attention to a couple moles on my back to observe for growth or changes, I knew what she was asking was that my hubby be on mole-duty. Clearly, I can't be responsible for back-mole-tracking. And - let's face it - neither can Scott, given the fact that details and observation are NOT two of his fortes.

So when I fessed up that the husband-plan was really not a reliable one, she suggested that we take full body photos. That way, each subsequent visit can be compared against them.

So, off I went to Mayo's professional photo studio, where I had the invigorating experience of getting butt-naked (did I mention I still have baby belly and lactate at the drop of a hat? it was NOT a pretty site) and having every angle of my pale skin photographed. It was the closest I will EVER come to posing naked.

I am praying to God that Mayo had some sort of ethics/confidentiality code which forbids them selling my pictures to some internet site. Lord help me, if not. HEEEEEEEE.

Easter Nap

Yesterday we had a delightful morning both attending worship and eating brunch with the Dieter's (They were our pseudo-family for the day - Scott and my first time not being around BLOOD family on Easter Day! They spoiled Jackson and Sullivan with their very own easter baskets!!!).

By the time we got home and did a few chores around the house while Jackson napped, I was pooped. POOOOOPPPPEED. So just as Jackson was waking from his nap, I was beginning to read my eyelids on the couch. Scott took one look at me and said, "I got Jackson, you and Sullivan go up to bed."

SAY NO MORE!

Sullivan and I spent a good couple hours in bed together. It was the best Easter nap I've ever had.

And my husband??? Not only did he take on toddler-duty while I snoozed away, he single-handedly tidied the whole house! I woke up to dishes done, carpet vacuumed, and clutter picked up. WHAT A STUD!

Buddies for life

Yesterday we received our updated medical insurance cards in the mail. What a crazy feeling to see all of our names listed there, so official.

Arthur, Scott G.

Arthur, Tricia

Arthur, Jackson

Arthur, Sullivan

Am I old enough to have a full family like that? I swear, I still feel the teenage version of me sometimes. Not the mom-of-two-boys-and-wife-to-an-amazing-husband version of myself. Crazy how we evolve into ourselves without realizing it.

Little man

I got my hair HIGHLIGHTED

Of all the chores associated with being a woman (shaving legs, plucking eyebrows, applying make up, painting nails and toenails, and on and on - the price we women pay to be beautiful!), the one I like LEAST is working on my hair. I just can't seem to force myself to "waste" precious sleep/play/relax moments getting my mess of a mop of a head of hair to look good.

I've blogged about this topic before. And I found what I believe to be the perfect cut for a lazy hair-doer like myself. It's a wash and go curly look about chin-length. I've been sporting this do for at least a year.

But then on Monday, something spunky got in my system and I decided, "What the hell! I'm gonna pay the extra money and get a 'fresh' look to go with being a new mom." So off I went to get a trim (normal) and a HIGHLIGHT (NOT normal - in fact, way edgy for me - never once have I dyed my hair!). Since I was already in a knock-my-socks-off sort of mood, I asked that my hairdresser go ahead and straighten/style it too. Wheewhooo. Tricia really was playing by sometome else's rules!

The result is what you see below. For the 48 hours that I forwent washing my hair (tried to keep the straightened look as long as I could!), I felt like a different woman. Highlights are AWESOME. And so is the straightened look. I will have you know, however, that I will NEVER, EVER put that kind of work into my day-to-day look again. Back to wash and go for me! But at least it will be a highlighted wash and go!

Does this not look like a 1950's Betty Crocker magazine ad? Imagine it black and white with the quote coming out of my mouth: "I can cook, clean, and sooth a newborn! When my husband comes home, I will also satisfy all of his needs!" All that's missing is a vacuum cleaner in my left hand!

My family

I still cannot get over the fact that the Arthur's are a family of 4. We have so enjoyed getting to know Sullivan. And Jackson is in SUCH a cute (sometimes challenging, but still darn cute) place right now with his toddler development.

Last night we got all prettied up to treat Grandma Lynette to her (belated) birthday dinner. Thought a couple pics were warranted (after all, how often does the WHOLE family get prettied up?). It was a yummy meal. And off Gma went this morning back to Columbus. The true test of "how well does Tricia measure up as a mother of two" has begun. I'm alive. But I ain't leaving the house the rest of the day by myself with them. Think I'll leave that project for tomorrow. Or the next day. Or maybe the next. Ha.