Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Progress: stalled (edited)

It just occurred to me that Dawit's many walking toys may actually be hindering his independent walking progress. Duh, I know. Caroline never had any, so she had no choice but to let go and let 'er rip. D's gotten so accustomed to the support and has gotten so good turning corners...



...and pushing things that get in his way, that he's hesitant to let go. He can actually run with a walker, but he's only taken one step unsupported.


I'm not complaining at all. I know he'll get there. And it's fun to watch him navigate the plethora of toys in his way. Edited to add: If you're wondering about the kids' eclectic outfits (including my wool socks Dawit is wearing), we're about to go hiking in cold weather.


And when he gets tired, he rests.





Saturday, December 26, 2009

Christmas chaos

We're catching our breath after a whirlwind tour of homes for Christmas celebrations. We started at my mom's.

This pic says what you already know:

My dad and Lynn came in from Idaho, and I hosted Christmas for the Seiferts. Actually Cracker Barrel hosted; I just provided the house. The very small house. This is the only pic I took that turned out. But we've got a good group shot if Jesi'll send it to me.

Then on Christmas Eve, the Inmans came out and we ate way too much.

The cutest smile ever:

That same smile turned upside down:

Anyone care to guess who the instigator of turmoil is?

Dawie pushing his new toy from Santa with his favorite push toy:

We tried to go to church - we got all dressed and almost loaded -- but D was suffering from the big D and we ended up ditching the plans and giving him 3 baths instead. It turned out to be a good thing. We holed up with the wind howling outside and enjoyed some precious time as a family. We put out cookies and milk for Santa, we made a quick trip outside to look for his sleigh -- whoops, I had to take a break for Dawie falling and cutting open his eye for the 20th time, not to mention another fluffy, fragrant diaper and another quick bath mid-post -- then upstairs to read the Christmas story and the Night Before Christmas.

Dawie undecorating the tree:

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Stealing Christmas?

Who needs Olan Mills? If you want cute pics of your kids posing in sweet, fake Christmas scenes, just take 'em to the nearest Kmart and pose them amongst all the decorations. That's what my mom did with Caroline. By the time she finished she had parents lining up with their kids.












Thursday, December 17, 2009

Martha Stewart, look out!


Tonight, Caroline and I made Christmas holly. I have to admit they're just glorified Rice Krispie treats and won't win either of us admission to any prestigious culinary institute. But C has taken a liking to baking, and I thought this would be fun. I remember making these as a kid.

She enjoyed watching them turn green. Then, after a brief stint confined to her bedroom for stepping on Dawit (on purpose!), she came back down and applied the berries.



And then she refused to eat 'em cause they were green.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Food, glorious food!


I continue to be astonished at how much Dawit eats. We've decided to delay the college fund for a while and set up a grocery fund because this kid is going to empty our cupboards. And whoever said babies prefer bland foods because their taste buds are not developed hasn't seen this kid jettison canned green beans over the side of his highchair tray. Give him Ethiopian green beans, like the one he's holding above, and step back or you'll lose a finger. Butter noodles with parmesan - nope. Noodles with spicy tomato sauce! Plain ground beef - forget it. Shiro with injera!
His food preferences, I'm convinced, are genetically influenced. It reminds me of the grandkids of some Italian friends who used to own a restaurant in Nashville. These kids all smelled like garlic. That's because they were eating homemade marinara before they could hold their heads up.
I also think Dawit's love of being worn (as in carried in the Ergo) for HOURS is genetic. And when you get done wearing him, he thinks you should hold him some more. I love it! And I love him to pieces.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

He's ours! officially! again!

On Thursday we completed our readoption of Leo Dawit -- or should I say Leroy, which is what the judge called him. The whole process was somewhat anticlimactic, but incredibly cool. Probably due to our amazing lawyer who agreed to drive up from Knoxville to handle our case.

We only had to beg a little and tell her that no readoption had ever taken place in Jackson County and we just didn't feel comfortable using a local attorney who asked us "what exactly IS a readoption?"

Our terrific case worker, Lisa, came up for the momentus event and we all reveled in making Jackson County history.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Caroline cracks me up

Overheard today:

"That ornament is just 'dorable."
"This chicken makes me hee-haw."
"Yesterday I tripped over a possum while I was carrying a plate of food."
"Mama, Dowie's drinking a beer!" (Um, it was an empty bottle in the recycling bin.)

This year, we decided to decorate a smaller tree that sits on our kitchen table. We all agreed we didn't want to constantly police our crawling marauder. But Caroline and I decided to put ALL our decorations on the smaller tree.

Then we decided to go outside and play. Caroline wanted to wear her new Land's End wool-outside, fleece-inside clogs (that I got at Goodwill for $0.99), and she didn't have the patience to put on socks. So the first things her clogs did on the swing was fly off.


Isn't she 'dorable?





Saturday, December 5, 2009

A surprise snow

We woke up to a beautiful snow-dusted valley. The kids couldn't wait to get outside and see it up close.




Friday, December 4, 2009

My musical man

Dawit has discovered the kazoo, and he's quite musical with it.

Here's another example of the eyebrow lift:

And here's his newest trick. It's called pouting.

He can practically run with this toy. He's not brave enough to let go yet, but he can go to town with a little help.