I think we may have turned a corner, folks. Peter is back to his old self after an ear infection derailed him for a bit. Davis is still less predictable, but not so irritable as he was there for a while. Things are returning to normal, thus Mommy is returning to normal.

We had Davis's four month checkup (my fourth and final pediatrician visit in 2 weeks) and got a raving report. Aside from my concerns about the fussiness, he's perfect. 14 pounds and gaining (note: Peter was 16 pounds at this point) and 95th percentile for height. HEIGHT. Really? If those genes were so dominant in our family, why didn't I get any of them? He is as smiley as ever and his favorite pastimes include laughing at his big brother, rolling onto his side (not quite all the way over), batting at toys, pulling hair, and chewing on his hands. Oh, and we started rice cereal last night -- he loved it. Bird mouth and all. Clearly Hayes's and my appetites survived a swim in the gene pool.

After the recent flooding, Hayes has been installing a few more French drains around the yard, so we have a real worksite outside. Peter was fascinated by the Ditch Witch machine; even more so by the "stabilizer leg" on the trailer.







Davis may not talk yet, but he's very good at listening to his brother... All. Day. Long.




Storytime with my boys - I must admit that everything a mother of boys needs to know can be learned in a Richard Scarry book. Thank goodness for that man or I'd be mixing up my front loaders with my motor graders and we sure can't have that.

I just sneezed all over the worksite, and the foreman was not happy.

In case you can't tell, we are building a hospital.



"This is hard work, Mommy. This is a big job for me and you and not Daddy and not Davis. "

When he asked for help with his dump truck, I asked him what he wanted help with and he responded, "I need help holding my dump truck with my right arm [points to right hand] and with my left arm [points to left hand]." Silly me...





Then we planted a few plants and worked in the flower bed. Peter dug holes and gave me his dirt to use in my pots. When we finished he said, "Mommy works hard." I just laughed and said, "Yes, baby boy. Mommies work hard. And don't you forget it." ;)

NEWSFLASH!  Peter's most used word is now pronounced properly.  Instead of "cuck," (as in firecuck, trash cuck, pickup cuck, dump cuck, produce cuck, pumper cuck, work cuck, milk cuck, package cuck, etc.) Peter now says "terruck."  My ears are so grateful. 

Peter has been down and out this week - it started with fever on Saturday that morphed into coughing, sneezing, runny nose, etc.  He actually told me today (!) that his ear hurt, so I immediately called the doctor for an appointment.  Lo and behold, he's got the beginning of an ear infection.  This whole talking thing is so handy sometimes!  Hopefully now we have turned a corner.  I sure don't want baby boy getting sick too.  One is hard enough, thank you very much.

I remain certain that Davis is teething, though no pearls have emerged quite yet.  He chews on his hands constantly!  He goes back and forth between sleeping through the night and up every three hours, but at least I know he's headed for long nights.  We figured out naps and he is a sleepy dream during the day.  At bedtime, he's a wee bit more resistant.  Like it takes an hour and half of off and on soothing to get him down for good.  Thank goodness Hayes is willing to help.  I feel really torn when Peter cries to me, "no go in nursery again peeez!"

A friend once told me that having #2 wasn't hard - it was just twice the work.  I know what she meant:  it's nothing you don't know how to do after the first one.  I get that, but I call shenanigans.  Balancing (juggling) these two is tough stuff, made harder sometimes by my nearly obsessive sleep training.  I'm learning to cut myself some slack (and the boys); I'm pretty proud of the end product so far.  We must be doing something right.

I have been such a Scrooge.

The past week has been fraught with misadventures and Murphy's law. The deluge last weekend made national headlines and I feel so fortunate that we were spared any sort of damage. In a way, that was the only thing that seemed to go right. Then Davis suddenly began waking multiple times at night and the ensuing sleeplessness made for one nutty mama. I can't have been very easy to live with... but in all fairness, the feeling was often mutual. ;)

Then your baby boy looks up at you with big, bright eyes and a grin the size of Texas, and your other baby comes to you for the first year ever and says, unprompted, "Happy Muvver's Day, Mommy. I wuff ew." Over, and over, and over again.

Murphy be damned. I've got it good.

To all the mamas, congratulations on another year of worry, fatigue, and the greatest love there is.

Cheers to you!

Overheard at breakfast today:

P (when I gave him rabbit ears): Mommy, I'm the Easter bunny.  I bring surprises!
S: Really!?  Does Mommy get a surprise?
P:  YES!
S: Wow - what a lucky mommy.  What kind of surprise?
P (finger to chin as though he's thinking, then he gets really excited): Golf balls.... and golf clubs... and a golf cart!

Let's hope the Mama's Day bunny is a little more in tune with Mommy's wish list.

So we’ve decided that we should change Davis’s name to Noah.*

It all started so innocently.  All the grandparents and my two cousins, Davis’s godparents-elect, were headed up for the weekend to witness and celebrate Davis’s baptism.  Mom came in a day early to help me prepare the house and iron the beautiful Christening gown that got so very wrinkled during my amateur photo shoot last week.  I had a lovely girls’ lunch with two very dear friends.  The boys didn’t nap that afternoon so both were fast asleep by 6pm.  Hayes’s parents arrived and we all dined on pizza and beer as we awaited “the godparents” the following day.  Life was good.

Saturday morning, we awoke to two things:  Peter singing at the top of his lungs and torrential rain.  Emily and Brennan were both flying in and the weather forecast was not looking good.  I had a few errands to run to prepare for our weekend visitors, and I felt fortunate that the wind and rain didn’t wash me away in the parking lots.  Emily’s flight arrived without incident and she was thrilled to see baby Davis – she insists he’s grown significantly in just a couple of weeks.  Brennan was not so lucky.  His flight left Houston on time but Hayes left three times to go pick him up, receiving word each time that it had been delayed.  Finally they were diverted to Knoxville before arriving here a mere three hours late.  The roads were such that Hayes may have taken that long to get to the airport!  Brennan had spent 12.5% of his 24 hour visit in the air.  Davis had already gone to bed, but soon woke with some serious unexplained fussiness accompanied by a constant need to eat his fists.  The joy of teething.  Yippee.  We all took turns soothing him but when the thunder didn’t wake him, the feeling of being put down in his crib did.  After he was down I was able to enjoy dinner (poor Hayes grilled out in the rain) and a delicious red velvet cake (Puffy Muffin for all you Nashvillians) with the grown-ups.  And yes, the wine was delicious. 

Sunday was... memorable.  The rain had continued on through the night, soaking Nashville and sending our water system, streets, and many neighborhoods into a state of emergency.  Streets were flooded, cars (and mobile homes, according to national news) were floating, homes were destroyed and even the Opryland hotel had been evacuated.  This was wild, folks.  This doesn't happen here.  Only it did.  We all got dressed and actually talked with the priest that morning who advised us of closed roads and suggested we use our discretion.  With all of the out-of-towners, we agreed to at least try.  Hayes and I strategized the highest route to midtown and off we went in a caravan.  We saw nearby homes with water up to their mailboxes.  Streets were submerged, homes and businesses were abandoned.  After a few questionable intersections where others were turning around, we made it to the church.  The whole time we wondered, "Will we be able to get home?!"

Davis's baptism was a lovely, private affair.  Naturally, he cried when the deacon poured three gallons of holy water on his head.  Other than that, he enjoyed facing out and listening to the deacon's animated voice.  That baby loves to be the center of attention.  

Following the service, we determined that the sweet little brunch that I had planned was not to be, as the restaurant was on a plantation property surrounded by rising water.  We couldn't even get there anyway, so we opted instead for our good ole standby - Noshville Deli.  This is the place we go for our family breakfast every Friday morning.  Peter loves it so he was jazzed to have pancakes for "yunch." Note that the rain is still pouring, the water is roaring down the streets, and we're in our Sunday best.  The closest parking spot was at least 75 yards from the door.  And I have to nurse my baby in the car.  I was clearly not thinking this day through.  It was not pretty.  

After breakfast we arrived home to find a tree down across a neighbor's driveway.  Brennan's afternoon flight was cancelled.  The power went out at noon.  The creek out back was dangerously close to overflowing into our backyard, which already looked like a lake.  McCall's basement was flooded up to the doorknob.  Still raining.  I was going to have 10 people at my house with no power, nothing planned for dinner (wasn't expecting a crowd) and one of the toilets went out.  Uh-oh.  

Action plan:  Brennan was able to reschedule his flight for Monday morning.  He and Hayes headed over to McCall's to bail water while we (myself, Mom, Maureen and Emily) hunkered down and readied our house for a crowd, not knowing how long the power would be out or how long we'd all be stranded here.  Luckily, the rain diminished to a drizzle by late afternoon so we grilled out hot dogs and picnicked on the porch.  The boys were such troopers!  Peter never seemed concerned about all the pandemonium.  He was just excited to show me where he had stashed my flashlights when I wasn't looking.  He "showed me the way to my room" using his trusty flashlight, dressed as a fire chief rescue man.  Precious.  

We were all sitting around the table, drinking beer from a cooler and sharing stories by candlelight when the power finally came back on at 9pm.  The rain finally stopped.  Our food hadn't spoiled, our house had minimal water in the garage and McCall's house was spared through the sheer elbow grease of her daddy, brother, and Brennan.  Super lucky are we.  

The deacon spoke about how it was a wonderful day for a baptism; a wonderful day to celebrate renewal and recommit ourselves to a life reflective of our faith.  I didn't know it then, but he was absolutely right. This 500 year flood has been quite a fiasco for our city, but it has certainly renewed my faith in the kindness of other people and their eagerness to take care of their neighbors.  That's what it's all about. 

*Not really, as Peter and Davis have a very handsome cousin who got the name first.