Progress

Friends in the crib.

As you know, Ben has never been a sleeper.

Since it's staying light so late, I think he has found it harder to fall asleep so he'll lay in his crib talking to his animals - Pooh, Meow, Puppy, Booda, Wormy and sometimes even his sippy. Wow! I didn't realize until now how many animals that kid has. That's a lot. And sometimes when I go in to get him on the weekends, he wants to bring them all out with him and I literally have no room to pick him up by the time he's handed them to me and they are in my arms.

Listing his animals also makes me realize how silly they're named. It's every-day to me so it just seems normal. Ben named his Mickey Mouse "Pooh" when he thought all cartoons were the same and Pooh was the easiest to say. Like most of the names, it stuck. I give Rob's mom, Pam, complete credit for naming Booda. To be honest, we though it was a little strange she would name a stuffed bear after the creator of Buddhism, but who are we to judge? After all, it was her bear. Even though Wormy is a singing, glowing sea horse, he's named after his more popular counterpart, the glow worm.

At night, after Ben is out of the tub and sitting on the toilet being towel dried, his friends put on a show for him. He yells, "Daaaaddddy," and a friend appears in the doorway, usually doing stunts and climbing up the side of the door. When one disappears, then another reappears. Ben giggles and giggles trying to guess which one will be next. After their show they go to bed and wait for Ben to do the same.

I imagine him in the crib at night doing a show of his own. The other night he talked and sang for almost 45 minutes. I had to mute the TV several times so I could listen to his beautiful voice. One time I even had to turn the TV up because the singing got so loud. After a minute or two of his opera I heard silence and then clapping. I pictured him in his crib bowing for his audience of five. They're a supportive group.

Sunny days are here again...

It was a great weekend. We sure love all the warm days spent at the park. On Saturday Ben and I did the March of Dimes walk with our friends Jim, Aleycia and little Miles. It was chilly, but the company was good and the juice boxes were tasty. 

Yesterday we had a photo shoot with Ben's friend Miles for a project Bob is working on at church. We stopped by the lot to take a family photo since they're going to start digging today, we went to some open houses for a few or Rob's steel drum band students and we ended at the park. 

It was a great day. I wish I would have taken a photo of Ben's supper last night though. We nibbled at the open houses so I didn't really think Ben would be hungry at supper time. I made the mistake (I seriously should have known better) of asking Ben if he 

wanted to go in for supper...at the park! You never ask a kid if he wants to do anything at the park. The answer will always be no. So at 8:15 we go in to go to bed and the kid immediately runs to his high chair and 

crawls up it like it's dinner time. So...this is the parent of the year award part...we feed him Cheerios, string cheese, 

shredded cheese and a 1/2 slice of plain bread. 

But he gobbled it up and off to bed he went. 

Someone smell something?

Poop. It's amazing how when you become a parent, things that once made you wrinkle up your nose in disgust don't bother you at all.

On Saturday we trucked to Dickinson for my cousin Kelly's wedding. It was a great opportunity to see family we hadn't seen in a long time. Those Ebach's are wild!

So we're sitting in the wedding and Ben, as usual, is driving his truck around and the "motor" is loud. It seems like the more we "shh" the louder the motor gets.

"bbbbbbbbbrrroooooooooooommmmm. beep.beep. bbbbbbrrroooommm."

Towards the end of the service we smell it. And both Rob and I look at each other wondering who smelt it first because in our family we have a strict whoever-smelt-it-changes-it policy. Ultimately though it came down to the realization that there was a much higher chance of finding a changing table in the woman's restroom vs the men's.

In the restroom, while the wedding is finishing, I find the worst-case scenario. Ben has blown through his diaper, his onesie and his dress pants. So I find myself with two options. I can either put his pants back on him and pretend like it didn't happen or I can carry him out of the restroom without any pants on. Well, after a quick inspection of the pants I vetoed option one for health reasons.

I got lots of looks as we exited the church. It's the same pity-look you get when your child is throwing a tantrum. The "I-soooooo-know-what-you're-going through" "Glad-it's-you-and-not-me" look.

After we loaded our pantsless prince into the car we trucked off to Wal-Mart. Rob thought there was just something super-duper classy about being in Wal-Mart without any pants on.

Rob's birthday present? A house.

Rob turned 27 yesterday. Why does that seem old? In my head his turning 27 is more than my being 29.

Look closely. In this hole between the two houses you can almost see a Peske home.

Yesterday we went to the builders to get the bid for our house and, shockingly enough, it ended up OK. We went prepared to give up some of the extras that we'd added for dreams sake - tray ceilings, oak doors on the main floor, a beautiful lighted ceiling in the master bedroom, etc. and didn't need to give anything up at all. I think that almost never happens.

So this week they are staking out our property to determine property lines and next week they will start digging. The big decision that's got us stumped is what color we want. We're not really crazy about any of the options.

Early this morning I tromped over to the area and took photos of a few houses that have colors we're considering. The house will be all steel siding with white trim. I realize the morning light is horrible, but what do you think?

Choice #1 Dover Gray

Choice #2 - Sage

Choice #3 - some sort of brown color

I'd also like to personally thank the owners of these houses for not calling the police at 6:45 this morning when they saw a complete stranger taking photographs of their house. I love Bismarck.