Photo Shoot Out Takes

Getting just the right photo to show off

a knit is next to impossible for an amateur like me.

I suppose I could learn, but that would

take time away from knitting, and

we can't have that, can we? {grin}

So, as a result, I usually delete a bunch,

and keep a couple.

This time however, I kept them all.

My model was so entertaining.

And having so much fun, that 

when it came to it,

I just couldn't hit that red X.

I hope you enjoy my silly, sunny, funny little man.

{And his new sweater too!}

Queen:  Show mama your sleeves.
Prince:  I a big tiger!!

Queen:  Show mama your sleeves.
Prince:  I your cheeseburger!!

Queen:  Show mama your sleeves.
Prince:  I gonna show you one sleeve, mama, okay?
[Queen's side note: and apparently his tongue, too.]

Queen:  How about you lie down as still as a statue?
Prince:  Nope. I gonna lay like a big tiger!!

The Queen has an inspiration.
Queen:  Stand like you did for your preschool photo.
Prince:  Cheese!
The Queen really hopes his preschool photo
does not resemble the above.
It just doesn't get cheesier than this, my friends.

Queen:  Okay, last time, show mama your sleeves.
Prince:  Arrrrrrr!!
Queen collapses to the floor in a fit of
giggles and waves the white flag!!

A Few Myths I Have Busted

There is an ongoing, ugly war in some mommy circles over breast-feeding vs. bottle-feeding.  It makes me sad, because no one will ever be a winner.  Everyone has a different journey with each one of their children and thank the Lord, the freedom to choose their path.

Before my own journey with the Prince, depending on *my* perception, I would make my own judgments over other mama's choices as far as feeding her kids.  And I was pretty sure that a lot of what I believed to be true, was truth.

It wasn't.

Shocker.

I know.

Here are some things I had proved wrong!

Myth #1:  Bottle fed babies get sick more often.

Queen's experience:  Nope.  The Prince was only sick once his first year!
--------------------
Myth #2:  Bottle fed babies don't have that bonding time with their mamas.

Queen's experience:  Not true.  However, I did take this (possibly) to the extreme.  In my mind, if I had had *my* way, I would have been nursing my little one, so I fed him each bottle (as much as was possible**).  I switched sides that I held him to feed on.  And I held him up (thank you boppy) where I would have held him if nursing.

**More for another post!!
--------------------
Myth #3:  You can make your baby nurse, if you take away all the other option and distractions.

Queen's experience:  Good luck with that. Enough said.
True story:  I did have a well-meaning (I hope) person tell me that if I just locked myself up in a room with the boy and refused to *let* him have the "easy" way out with a bottle, then I would be able to nurse him. Say what??!??
--------------------
Myth #4:  Mama's that bottle feed are taking the easy way out.

Queen's experience:  Nursing is way easier in terms of convenience compared to bottle feeding, in my opinion.  Just whip it out, after loads of practice.{grin} Bottle feeding takes preparation and thinking ahead in terms of:  enough formula for the outing and possible contingencies on said outing, and source of water, possibly heat to warm up the milk.  I can remember being so thankful for Princess #1.  She could hold the Prince while I juggled getting a bottle together for him, some moms are not as spoiled lucky as I was.

That being said, bottles are great for keeping one modest while feeding in public.{grin}  Two of the princesses refused to stay covered when I nursed them while out and about, which led to several embarrassing situations--for the witnesses.

As for the other way to look at this, try this out, when you see a mama feeding her sweet wee one with a bottle, please DON'T jump to the conclusion that that is her preference or even her choice.  Some of us, didn't have a say in how our journey went.  And even if you do find out that it was by choice--so what?!  We, as mamas, know what is best for our babes and for us, and do our best to provide every little thing our child needs!

Okay, stepping off of the soapbox, for this post anyway!!

--------------

The One Where I Had to Let It Go

Part Two . . .

The main reason for the Prince's lack of weight gain in the beginning was laziness on his part.  My milk was fine and had been checked, (oh yes, I was asked at the time, so nice) and there was more than enough for him, he just didn't want to do the work to get it.  So, when he nursed, he ate enough to satisfy the hunger and the sucking reflex, but never enough to promote growth!  An interesting conundrum.

So, for March and April, we continued on.  I would nurse the Prince and then follow with 2 ounces of preemie formula.  Finally mid-March, he was back up and past birth weight.  The bi and tri-weekly weight checks turned into every couple of weeks and then (at long last) ended!!  The Prince was on his way.

Then May came.  The Prince decided on some feedings that nursing wasn't for him, and would instead gulp down 4 ounces of formula.  I felt helpless to prevent it. I worked hard to keep my milk supply up, but little by little he began to refuse multiple feedings during the day.  Each time, a piece of my heart broke, as I went to mix up more formula.  Nursing my babies, was quite honestly, a guilty pleasure.  A guilty pleasure in the sense that it was something only I could provide for my babe, and let's be honest it was the ultimate excuse to put my feet up and just enjoy my baby.

Then came the day, when he refused the breast entirely.  I was devastated.

I called a friend who knew what was going on and had been praying for me.  When she answered, I couldn't even talk, I just burst into great gulping tears and choked out the words, "He stopped nursing."  I listened to her encouragement through my tears and somehow made it through the day.

I resented every bottle those first few days.

Especially those middle of the night ones.

However, I couldn't deny that seeing my little guy grow chubby and smiley and so healthy, was making it okay.

It is hard to give up on something when it is out of your control.  It is hard to have something you enjoy and treasure, wrenched out of your clenched fists.  It is hard to stop feeling guilty once you start.  It is hard to watch others "succeed" where you feel you've failed.

Part three to come . . .

The One Where I Disappoint the Boy

Queen:  Do you want to come with me to the yarn shop?

The Prince:  Yes please, sure!

Queen:  Okay, it will be just a quick trip okay.  There and back.

The Prince:  I want to see the horses, sheep, cows and pigs.

Queen:  See what??

The Prince:  At the BARN store, Mama.  I want to see the animals.

Queen:  We aren't going the barn store, we're going to the YARN store, where mama gets knitting needles and new yarn.

The Prince:  (bursts into tears)  I no wanna go!!!!!!

The Prince Turns 3!

Three, three, glorious three.

One of my least favorite of the child-rearing years, 

in the interest of full disclosure. {grin}

This boy of mine can be a challenge, 

most days I am up for it.{grin}

His heart is full of love for his family to be sure.

He is already becoming a fierce protector

of his big sisters . . . love that.

I am excited (andateenybitfearful) to see what his third year will bring

to light about who he has been created to be.

Mama gave up trying to catch a smile photo and settled for this.

Here are some things that we love about our Prince:

He is a/an:

*fast and furious tricycle rider.

*aspiring horseback rider (read: no fear of heights or equines).

*quick kitten-catcher.

*imaginative player with his "guys".

* connoisseur of any moving vehicle. {grin}

*fascinated by airplanes, helicopters, and Harley's.

*avid listener of books.

*fabulous singer of songs.

*deep digger of dirt.

*just an all around fun guy to have around.

Tractor birthday cake, missing it's exhaust pipe and wipers, hmm.
Funny face boy.

There are several posts brewing in my mind and heart 

that concern the Prince's life that I aspire to get 

written in the coming weeks.

I hope you stay tuned.

Yep, That's My Boy

Prince:  Mama, I made a picture for you.

Queen:  Oh, thank you.  Please tell me all about it (trying hard to decipher the chaos in crayon).

Prince:  It's a litter box.

Queen:  A litter box???

Prince:  Yes, where Buzzy and Frosty go big poo-poos.  And pee.

Queen: (thinking)  I had to clarify.

Happiness Is . . .

TWO

The Prince turned two yesterday.  Two, two wonderful two.  One of my absolutely favorite ages!!

He ended his day with a wonderfully stereotypical temper tantrum!  However, the age two doesn't scare me nearly as much as three, so I chalked his melt up to too much birthday! {grin}

Here are some things that we find TOO cute about our guy:

--he loves trucks.  

[We cannot stress this enough. 

Trucks are where it's at.]

--he loves to be outside.

--he loves to talk and sing.  

[You can even understand them for the most part now.]

--he loves to do whatever big sisters are doing.

[And that means "tool" too (school)!]

--he likes to arrange mama's hair into a pillow before 

snuggling in for a rock before bed.

--he still likes to have his head under mama's chin too-

for reading or cuddling.

[The Queen is pretty sure that this demonstrates 

he still has fond memories of trying to 

dislocate her rib cage with his head while in utero!]

--he loves to play chase.

--he loves to help and is a great grocery unloader!

How did we do life without him?  

I'm not quite sure anymore. 

Wordless Wednesday

Overheard At the Car Dealership

Nice Salesman:  Go ahead, kick the tires!

Prince:  kicks tire

Nice Salesman:  Let's check under the hood.  Have you ever seen a hemi?

Prince:  Raises arms to mama, says, "Pweese, Mama?"

Nice Salesman:  Do you want to try and drive it?

Prince:  "Uh-huh." Climbs in the driver's seat and grabs onto the Charger's wheel.

Nice Salesman:  Did you have fun?

Prince with a huge grin: "KANK OOO!!" (Thank you!)

Nice Salesman:  We'll see you back in a few years!

Joy of Boys!

**I found a copy of this on a blog I read, and thought you mothers might enjoy it!!*****
**********************************************************************

Between the innocence of babyhood and the dignity of manhood we find a delightful creature called a boy. Boys come in assorted sizes, weights, and colors, but all boys have the same creed: to enjoy every second of every minute of every hour of every day and to protest with noise (their only weapon) when their last minute is finished and the adult males pack them off to bed at night.

Boys are found everywhere—on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around, or jumping to.

Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them, and Heaven protects them.

A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair, and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket. When you are busy, a boy is an inconsiderate, bothersome, intruding jangle of noise. When you want him to make a good impression, his brain turns to jelly or else he becomes a savage, sadistic, jungle creature bent on destroying the world and himself with it.

A boy is a composite—he has the appetite of a horse, the digestion of a sword-swallower, the energy of a pocket-sized atomic bomb, the curiosity of a cat, the lungs of a dictator, the imagination of a Paul Bunyan, the shyness of a violet, the audacity of a steel trap, the enthusiasm of a firecracker, and when he makes something, he has five thumbs on each hand. He likes ice cream, knives, saws, Christmas, comic books, the boy across the street, woods, water (in its natural habitat), large animals, Dad, trains, Saturday mornings, and fire engines.

He is not much for Sunday School, company, schools, books without pictures, music lessons, neckties, barbers, girls, overcoats, adults, or bedtime. Nobody else is so early to rise, or so late to supper. Nobody else gets so much fun out of trees, dogs, and breezes. Nobody else can cram into one pocket a rusty knife, a half-eaten apple, three feet of string, an empty Bull Durham sack, two gum drops, six cents, a slingshot, a chunk of unknown substance, and a genuine supersonic code ring with a secret compartment.

A boy is a magical creature—you can lock him out of your workshop, but you can’t lock him out of your heart. You can get him out of your study, but you can’t get him out of your mind. Might as well give up—he is your captor, your jailer, your boss, and your master—a freckled-faced, pint-sized, cat-chasing, bundle of noise. But when you come home at night with only shattered pieces of your hopes and dreams, he can mend them like new with two magic words, “Hi Mom*!”

{*the queen's edit, original post said "Dad" :) }

My Son

This afternoon as I was watching a certain adorable blonde little boy pulling his wagon around the backyard, it hit me again right in the chest. He's mine. I have a son.

Maybe it just hasn't sunk in yet, after all these years of girls, and maybe it never will, but some days I feel the need to pinch myself as I see this BOY running around my life--my BOY. My carpet is littered with "ucks" and car ramps and pint-sized tools. I don't dare take my eyes off him while dinner is getting made because I know that he'll be on the table helping himself to whatever he can find. He loves to find bugs, inspect them, handle them, and then stomp on them. At his sisters' soccer games I spend more time keeping him from joining the game than watching the game. When he sees a fire truck, he makes a siren sound. And the catch of his breath and excited voice saying "UCK" over any kind of truck he spies, makes me smile every time.

He's a whirlwind. He can be stubborn. He's as sweet as they come. He's my son.

Mowing Men

Lawn mowers make my little guy so happy.
Especially when you get to take a ride on one.
No fear. Not too noisy.
I'll cry if you take me off!!

Boy vs. Girl

His sisters used this for their baby dolls to take a nap.
The Prince however, has found an even more practical use.

"Got it into position, and gonna give it a test run."

"Hey, if I put my hands on the window, instead of the sill . . . "


"Yep, that did the trick. Now if I can get that second leg up and make the glass disappear, life will be sweet!!"