My Brother the Photographer

Dave took some photos lately that I really like. They were on my computer, so I figured I'd share.

Great work, Dave! Keep them coming.





And this picture was taken quite a while ago, almost 3 years ago, in fact. For obvious reasons, though, it'll always be my favorite.


PS - Happy Birthday, Dave!!!

Random and Bizarre

I've realized lately that a few of the thoughts that pop up in my head are just that...random and bizarre. I'm sure it's entirely due to being a mother and, in addition, mostly likely attributable to being a mother of boys.

A small sampling of those thoughts:


What's in your mouth? [Cat food - Owen. I thought he was looking a little extra chubby these days.]

What did you just say? ["Oh, snap." Yep. Caleb was watching a video with his daddy online and that's what he came up with. I finally figured out where he got that from - one of his favorite cartoons. The best part is that he misunderstood and what he really said was, "Oh, snaps."]

What did you just say? ["Doodie. Doodie." Knowing that boys usually have snakes, snails, puppy dog tails and all sorts of "icky" things in mind, you wouldn't immediately guess that this means drink, but it does. Just in the last week I've finally been able to figure out a bit of Owen's baby language. Doodie is drink, Lalo is Caleb. It's so much fun to actually be able to communicate - sort of - with him!]

Is that a lizard in your pants? [As a matter of fact, it was. It was a squishy, plastic one, but nonetheless, Owen had it in his pants. I'm sure big brother had a hand in helping with that one.]


That's it for now. Sorry the posts have been few and far between lately. But, believe me, it only means that we're busy enjoying life. The antics never stop, so I'll pass on a few more next time I get to catch my breath!

Lots of love,
Sarah

Taylor #5

Meet May...the newest addition to the Taylor household.


If you are unfamiliar with our previous pet endeavors, you'll have to read back a little ways to Meet Squirt and the very prompt sequel, Rest in Peace, Little Squirt. After that brief review, it's obvious that we weren't going to go the fish route again. Dogs are awesome, but too much work. Reptiles are just creepy. A rock probably wouldn't have cut it for long. So, a cat. Zach and I both enjoy them, as long as they stay inside all the time--otherwise the itchy, red eyes and sneezing ensue.

Why did we need a pet in the first place? Probably the main reason is because it's been long enough since the last one that I've forgotten that they involve WORK and not just cuddling and playing. Oh well. The real, very-close-second-place reason is because the thought of Caleb's classmates asking about pets and him having absolutely nothing to report just broke our hearts. Every little boy needs a pet--thus, May.

She came from the parents of a sister's friend sort of relationship. They knew we were looking. Our first choice would have been a Hackett cat. I have never in my life seen any other cat that could be held upside down by one leg and still not fight back. Not that a cat should ever be treated that way, but...I'm a realist. It's going to happen. May came from a family with lots and lots of kids, though, and it's evident. She's an absolute sweetheart. She takes the poking, prodding, squeezing and tugging in stride and comes back for more. She hasn't scratched or squirmed once and, believe me, there have been plenty of instances where such behavior would have been absolutely justified. But, like I said, she's a sweet, sweet girl. (Stinky, if you ask me, but sweet.)

So, enough words, bring on the pictures...

Caleb is absolutely in love...

And the following little photo sequence makes me laugh! This is pretty much the exact order of how things "went down".

I knew Owen likes to throw down, but I really thought he was above cat-wrestling. Joking aside, though, he is also completely in love and I can attest to the fact that May has already received far more

kisses

and hugs

than Zach and I--combined! Not fair! I guess we just can't compete with little Miss May.

A little Friday fun...

Just wishing everyone a fun and happy weekend. And, as you go about your weekend's activities, have no fear...Superman's ever-watchful eye will be making sure you are safe.




If you think that's special, you should have seen it after he added his cowboy (scratch that), SUPERMAN boots to the ensemble. Ohh la la! If you ask me, Superman has never looked so good! (Although something tells me Faerl could come up with a striking superhero getup as well!)

Mommy, Don't Kill the Hygienist

So, to ring in the new year in good form, our church is having a 40-day "fast" in which we are abstaining from evil speaking - choosing to walk in love and speak in love. After all, that's what Jesus did, and we are to be imitators of Christ. I have to admit, though, that I broke my fast this morning. Now I have to seek forgiveness for that, and for holding a grudge, because "the incident" happened over 4 hours ago, and I'm still ticked.

Caleb had his second dentist visit this morning. I was SO proud of him, because he was super brave. His first visit was a little rough. He was a little timid. There were a few tears before I could convince him to let them operate their scary contraptions inside his mouth. But, after seeing the mother-lode of dental paraphernalia he got after his first visit, this one was a breeze. No coaxing necessary. He was amazing and, thankfully, the hygienist appreciated and acknowledged his bravery.

The cleaning was over and it was time for the dentist to take a peek. He did his thing and then asked if I had any questions. I asked for some tips as to how to help Caleb stop sucking his thumb. He's definitely old enough now, and we need to get that behind him so it won't do any (more) damage to his bite. The dentist asked me to wait and said he'd have one of the other hygienists come in to talk to us.

After a few minutes, a girl came in and started to talk to Caleb about this PLAN where he'd get to wear a football wrap at night (aka Ace bandage) to help him stop sucking his thumb, since he's such a big boy now. Caleb seemed to be on board with the plan and it was going well. Then, seeing Caleb holding on to his bear, she actually had the nerve to tell him that he was going to have to choose a baby or someone else that was younger than him and give the bear to them.

(@*&**#!)

If you know Caleb at all, you know not to mess with Bear. He's had him since he was one, and he's hardly left his side. As you can imagine, it wouldn't have mattered if she promised Caleb a ride in a spaceship, every word she said after that was NOT okay. She was dead to him, and to me, too, for that matter. Obviously, she doesn't have kids. I'm game to try the bandage, but I'm certainly not going to take his bear away. And I had to reassure him of that SEVERAL times before the tears would stop.

In retrospect, I have to wonder who is more attached to that bear - me, or Caleb. Caleb cried at the thought of losing him. I wanted to knock that girl's lights out for even mentioning the idea. I'm sure it's not necessarily the actual bear that I'm clinging to, just an idea. Just the memory of when Zach and I first gave him that bear. He could hardly walk, but he toddled right up to him and grabbed on tight. Bear was half as big as my little boy. I'm still ready to tear up at the thought of taking away his bear. I can tell you, it's not going to happen. And, I'm thinking we should probably find a new dentist office to visit next time. That hygienist tapped into "mommy bear" territory, and she might not be safe if our paths cross again.

PS #1 - Pastor Bryan, please don't be discouraged by my behavior. It was definitely in no way a reflection on your teaching or your example.

PS #2 - Jesus, please forgive me for not walking in love and please keep renewing my mind, because I'm not sure if I'm done being mad yet.

It's official!

I just got the call yesterday afternoon. I can now officially call myself Sarah Taylor CD(DONA)! After two years of work, I received certification from (what most consider) the most prestigious doula organization in the world. Yippie!!! I'm so excited. Please pray with me that I receive clear direction about where to go with this and how to use this tool. God's placed a call on my heart to help women and now I just need to know exactly how and what that's supposed to look like.

In the mean time, it's a goal attained and now I'll have to figure out what I'll be up to next. Maybe I'll paint the kitchen...seriously.

A Day in the Life

Sorry for the posting hiatus. It's definitely not an indicator of lack of material. In fact, it's almost the opposite - such a surplus that I don't even know where to begin. The things I've wanted to share the most, though, have been the little antics and moments of craziness that could only be found in the day-to-day lives of two little boys...

First, Caleb.

Actually, I should say "the boy formerly known as Caleb". Why? Because if you met him today and I introduced him as Caleb, he'd correct me in a very serious and somewhat frustrated tone to say, "No, Mom. Remember, it's Fire. You're supposed to call me Fire now!" He picked that name a few weeks ago, because he's so fast, and hasn't given up on it yet. Must be a keeper.

He's obsessed with all things "Star Wars" these days, and regularly runs around pretending he's a Storm Trooper - costume and all. We got him a light saber for Christmas, it was the thing he asked for the very most. And Uncle Dave got him a Storm Trooper helmet. It's so big on him that he looks like a bobble head that I should stick on the dash of my car. But, don't tell him that. I'm sure his self esteem is intact securely enough that it wouldn't hurt him any, but still. When he asks you how he looks, please just tell him that he's the coolest Storm Trooper ever and just try to muffle your giggles under your breath.

Yesterday we met my friend Jane for lunch, but we were a little ahead of her. I told Caleb that we were going to beat her there. He said, "Yeah. She's a slow poke. And we're the fast poke team."

Earlier this week, I sent him to brush his teeth before bed. After a few minutes, I figured I'd better go oversee his progress. As I walked down the hall, I saw that he was busy rubbing his head with a towel. I started to lecture, saying he hadn't brushed long enough to be drying off yet. Before I could even begin, though, he looked at me with a pretty bewildered face and asked for help. He said he was trying to squeeze some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and that it got in his hair. How in the world did the toothpaste end up in his hair? Your guess is as good as mine, but sure enough...he had gobs of blue sparkles gunked all over his head.

A few weeks ago, after he woke from his nap, I spent a few minutes snuggling on the couch with him. I put my hand on his chest and felt crusties of dried 'something'. If you have any experience with boys, you know that there's absolutely no telling what that something might have been. I commented on it, saying it was yucky and we needed to wash him off. He agreed, with a worn-out sigh, "Yeah. That's from earlier when I was fighting the dragons. They slobbered on me."

And then there's Owen...

He's busy developing more and more character every day. He's added a few new words to his repertoire, too. He says Daddy all the time and he started saying puppy a few weeks ago. The best part is the accent he added a few days ago. Now, he says them quite forcefully with a pretty convincing Stallone/Rocky accent. It's hilarious.

His latest and greatest antic, however, has to be his recently kindled love affair with my vacuum cleaner. Every time he hears me start it up, he comes running. He loves to hold the handle with me. He's too little to push it, but he just stands there holding it, happy as can be, while he makes a great "vvvroooomm" noise. A few days ago he discovered his favorite feature. The hose. I pulled it off to suck up something hiding back in a corner. He saw the thing and HAD to check it out. I handed it to him, fully expecting him to suction his hand or jammies, freak out and start crying. I should have realized, though, that he was more likely to explore as most babies do...with their mouths. He held the thing right up to his lips and away they went, right down the tube. He startled and got it pulled off while I braced myself for the coming tears. It must not have hurt him, though. In fact, he must have kinda liked it, because he did it again. And again. After the third time I took it away. If I didn't I probably would have wet my pants because he had me laughing so hard. I hope that his next love that results in hickies won't happen for a long, long time.

Oh, my boys! I can't even imagine how boring, tidy and un-eventful life would be without them.