This seriously might be the most pictures I have EVER put into one post

Sam's 2nd birthday recap is mostly pictures. What can I say, I bust out my real camera on special occasions. Also, my phone had no more storage so my hands were tied. In short, he ate cookies for breakfast, had lunch at a rest stop on the interstate (nope, we weren't even traveling) with our best playdate buddies, and had a special gluten-free pizza for dinner with some of our favorite folks.

Wake up time!

 

Since I had nothing at the house that could be made into gluten-free, egg-free, nut-free pancakes, I just decided to take the easy way out and let him eat his magical cookies for breakfast, in addition to his usual banana, milk, and Honey Chex.

I got really crazy and made him some hot chocolate in his special mug (an espresso cup from Steve's parents). He is usually trying to get a sip or four of my coffee every morning, so I made him his own special "coffee."

Not sure what to make of this.

Oh. Duh. Obviously this is for making chocolate honey Chex.

Hm. Yum. Good stuff.

Let me see if I can appear to be drinking this, but actually pour it down the front of my shirt instead...

OMG! BALLOONS!!

Oh heyyyyyy!!

Thankful for my (usually) sweet son. Happy birthday to him and happy birthing day to me! We should celebrate with some chocolate, no?

This isn't quiet time. This is my creative expressions time. I will make art out of these flattened gummy bears.

This right here is a pumpkin, in case you were wondering.

For lunch, we took Steve's truck out for a spin and drove down to the Chick-fil-A drive-thru for some grilled nuggets. We then proceeded to set up shop at the Tennessee Welcome Station Rest Area with Aggie and her crew because we are super classy like that. Yep, people stopped and stared and talked. We didn't mind one bit since this turned out to be the most awesome/cheapest/easiest/entertaining birthday party in the history of the world.

Sam usually doesn't get fries, so he's shoveling them into his maw as fast as he can before I notice. Aiden is working on some leftover spaghetti like a champ.

Mom, it tastes better when I rub it on my clothes first. I promise.

Where's MY chicken and pasta?? -Molly

OMG there are really big trucks flying by on the interstate.

AND A HELICOPTER OMG BEST DAY EVER!!!

Two peas in a pod

Aiden is really good about giving out hugs. Sam always looks freaked out when someone comes at him, arms outstretched. After hanging out with Aiden for a while though, and receiving many an awkward hug, Sam is finally coming around and I almost die every time I see this.

Did your heart just melt a little? If it didn't, you might wanna check and see if you have one because that is definitely SWEET. Like, give you the die-ya-bee-tuss sweet.

Watching the interstate traffic

Now get a load of these two.

Get over here you.

Let me just play hard-to-get for a minute while he realizes that stupid Sophie isn't going to kiss back.

Hey girl. What's goin on.

Look at me when I'm talkin' to you, Levi.

Don't even TRY to compete with me in the cheeks department. Hold my hand and tell me that you love me.

Oh nevermind. I'm not interested now that you're paying attention. I'm practicing how to be a woman.

Yeah... my dad says I'm not allowed to date.

Are you trying to... eat my hand? Not so sure where this is headed.

I'm fairly certain I need to keep my clothes on, what with being on the side of a busy interstate and all. Mom???

And reason number four that we should date is that I'd never say ANYTHING about your thighs. Or your cheeks. Or your multiple elbows. Or your back fat. Or the fact that I'm not even sure you have a neck...

 

 

OH NO HE DIDN'T.

Cars, helicopters, and tractors- OH MY!

Our first attempt at a group picture. I love Aiden's expressions.

Sarah and Chris joined us for our special pizza dinner. Sam, of course, didn't want to eat any of the special (gluten free) pizza. He preferred to show Chris his new bath toys. Odie quite literally ate up the attention and showed her appreciation by leaving more than half of her hair on Chris's uniform.

Yum. I love people in uniform. -Odie

This mini bowler hat game was a big, hilarious hit for some reason.

Chris puts it on his head...

... and Sam makes it fall off. Hilarious!

I don't get it. Is anyone going to give me a slice of pizza?

Sam also got an ecard from Steve, which we watched a frillion times and received lots of sweet cards from friends and family. We tried skyping with Steve while we were still at the rest area, but naptime was imminent and the picture quality was bad. So in a gigantically large nutshell, that was Sam's second birthday. Overall, it was a great day. Tiring, but great. The End.

2

Sweet Sam,
You have been on this beautiful earth for two whole years now. That is pretty hard for me to wrap my head around. Sometimes it feels like you were just born, and other times it feels like "what did we do with ourselves before we had Sam?" (Also known as BS- "Before Sam")

We haven't been for your 24-month well-child (or are you still a well-baby? PLEASE still be a well-baby, PLEASE) check yet. Mainly because your mom is a slacker and didn't email for your appointment until last week. If I had to guess your stats though, I would say you weigh as much as a feather, in comparison to your (little) sister who weighs as much as three elephants. You are long and lean, but your little baby belly is the cutest thing I've ever seen, especially when it's all full and puffed out from dinner.

You received a lot of size 24-month clothes for the fall/winter, but are having a bit of trouble fitting into them. I got you dressed for preschool the other day and went to change Molly. You walked in a few minutes later with your pants around your ankles. I guess the cloth diapers help give you a badonkadonk, while the disposables you wear to school do not. So we have pulled out your size 18-month clothes from last year. You wore a lot of sweatpants then, huh? Can't say I blame you. They're my pants of choice too.

You still aren't talking. Well, I take that back. You talk all the time. You aren't speaking coherent words yet. You jabber on when you see airplanes, helicopters, big trucks, tractors, dogs, birds, kids on bikes, and whenever the washer and dryer go off. I'm not sure where you get this obsession with the laundry. Probably from your father. The one word you are saying (besides "YEAH!") is "pee pee." And not like, "Oh mother! I need to pee pee! Please locate a facility for me to use so that don't urinate in my pants!" It's more like, you're sitting in the bathtub and you point to your, ahem, and say "pee pee?" I'm not sure if I should have been referring to that as something else all along, but you are constantly quizzing me on the name/color/shape of everything, so that is what I started calling that. Hopefully you learn some more words soon. Words like, "Mommy" "I" "love" and "you." Those are all great words to learn.

Your eating habits are kinda horrible. Not gonna lie, kid. With your dietary restrictions, you really need to learn how to love vegetables. You will eat them out of the squeeze-y packs, but son, God gave you teeth for a reason. You will eat just about any fruit, and meat-wise you will eat turkey dogs, ground sausage in spaghetti sauce (no noodles), and grilled chicken. You also like rice cakes, your special pretzels, your special cookies (made with nothing but pure happiness and magic apparently, judging by the ingredient list), Chex, cheese (sometimes, if the stars are aligned just so), and raisins. We learned the hard way that you cannot have too many raisins. Let's just say that they are not so easily digested. Let's also say that your father isn't here to spray out your diapers in the backyard either, so we are taking a little raisin hiatus for a few months.

Tried a little cheese-covered bacon. He needs some meat on those bones. And rice cakes aren't gonna cut it.

You love Molly. You'll bring her toys if I ask you to (and even when I don't) and always try to console her when she's crying. It's pretty much the cutest thing I've ever seen. She idolizes you too, as little sisters usually do with big brothers.

You miss your daddy a lot. I know this deployment is hard on you. He misses you too and can't wait to re-establish himself as the bath-giver/bedtime-routine-conductor. Trust me when I say that I'm looking forward to that more than both of you combined.

You are really enjoying playgrounds now and we have set out to explore every last one in the Fort Campbell/Clarksville/Oak Grove area. You're fearless on the slides and love running wild, collecting every decent stick you can find along your way. Those feet of yours still give you a little trouble (you know, when it comes to walking and standing up and all), so you usually have just as many boo-boo's as you do sticks, but you seem to recover fairly quickly.

Taken right before he face-planted into the sidewalk.

Your current obsessions right now are 18-wheelers, tractors (omg, going to see the Mennonites is like THE best day EVER for you what with all their tractors they drive like cars), trains, bulldozers, and any and all construction equipment. Let me not forget to mention helicopters too. Because if we happen to see a helicopter flying through the sky, we must stop any and all movement and give it nothing less than our undivided attention until it has completely left our eyesight AND earshot. (This can make taking walks verrrrrrrrrrrrry difficult sometimes.)

You go to preschool two days a week now and seem to really enjoy it. You got a little clingy at drop-off twice (right after your dad left), and I actually enjoyed it. When else do I get a hug that easily??? After I enjoyed a hug from you, I peeled you off pretty quick and left, because son, I KNOW THIS GAME. You don't miss me. You do like attention though. Well-played. Your teachers ratted you out and said that you were fine the second I left.

Yes, sometimes we take the elevator. Judge all you want, but Molly+carseat+trying to wrangle Sam up the stairs during the morning rush= we will never get there on time and I will be sweatier than usual, which is already pretty sweaty. Also, how sweet is preschool art?!?!?! I'm trying to show some restraint and not frame it all.

I love you so SO much. You definitely know how to drive me to the edge, but you also regularly fill my heart to bursting with your sweet ways. Looking forward to all the awesome things you'll do in your third year of life, buddy.

Molly doesn't always make scary-mad faces, but when she does, I try my best to capture it on film.

Talk about support and encouragement and commiseration and just pure LOVE! Y'all are awesome. I sincerely appreciate every last comment you left me on my deployment posts. I am grateful to have so many great folks to lean on during this Army-induced separation. And I love how many of you said "shit" in your comments too. You're my kinda' people.

I am sure there are many of you wondering just how many bottles of wine I have consumed and how many chocolate cakes I have devoured since Steve left. Let me clear the air: wine- none; cake- none of your business. Molly still isn't sleeping through the night (I KNOW), and I feel all kinds of weird and sluggish when I have to get up with her the first time she wakes (which is also the moment I hit some deep REM sleep cycles) (also, notice I said the FIRST time she wakes. That means that she is getting up multiple times and is sealing her position as Baby Of The Family with every night-waking.). So I am kind of afraid to add wine into the mix. It is a SEDATIVE and the last thing I need help with these days is being SEDATED. So as much as I would like a glass or twelve, between pumping during the day and konking out the second I hit the pillow at night, I have not had a chance to indulge in that. Rest assured that I will not go the entire deployment without it though. I guess I'm just waiting for a very special occasion or something. ("Something" being a babysitter that will spend the night and get up with my kids.)

Speaking of special occasions, I got a stomach bug last week which then mutated into some sort of freak laryngitis. I, of course, called my mama. She, of course, came to my rescue. Molly, of course, continued to sleep like a 5lb newborn (clearly just a dream for her since she was at least 5lbs at 5 months in-utero). Sam, of course, acted like a butthead for the duration of her visit. We all, of course, miss having her here now.

Here is a series of photos depicting Molly being overly enthusiastic during story time.

Give it to me! Now!

Haha! Sister got shut down!

Al. Most. Reeeeeeeach!

She's ruining the book! Listen to me whine about it! Wah!

 

Would you care to stop taking pictures and maybe help referee for a minute?

If that isn't the scariest face you've seen in a while... Denied!

Molly did not appreciate being held back from tasting the book. She prefers to read with all of her senses. To be fair, most of our books are covered in some sort of food-like substance, so it's not like her heart wasn't in the right place.

Warning: I say $#*! a lot in this post. Seriously. A lot.

**The last of the pre-deployment posts! This one isn't all tear-jerky and weepy. (Sorry about those, folks.) If you've made it through all three of these, you're awesome! You deserve a gold star, or at the very least, many many pieces of chocolate.**

We are two days out from D-day. Steve finally got orders. Shit finally got real around here. He finally started packing his bags in case they moved up his leave date (like they've done to everyone else here). So he's packed. And he's packed. And he's packed some more. And guess what? Apparently there is still A TON OF SHIT LEFT TO PACK. Look, I get it. You're going to a war-zone. You gotta have the things you need. But it's starting to feel incessant. Excessive? Incessant? Who gives a shit what I'm trying to say. I'M OVER THIS SHIT. I don't want him to go, but I'm sick of having him here IN THIS WAY (if that makes any sense at all- I'm guessing it doesn't). I'm sick of the daily physical reminders that he's leaving. Random travel-sized shit everywhere. Big green bags full of shit that I bang the door into every time I let Odie outside. Lists and paperwork and SHIT. EVERYWHERE.

It feels like I'm in LABOR, and the sad, pathetic light at the end of this shitty tunnel is giving up my husband for 9 months. Which, hello, sounds like a pregnancy sentence to me.

I am actually tired of eating pizza. That shit is starting to make me feel disgusting. But I am in no mood to argue about something as stupid as dinner. If the man wants pizza, dammit, we're having pizza. My cereal diet will commence as soon as this shitty deployment gets underway.

I'm sick of feeling like shit for leaving the house. Not that Steve is making me feel guilty for leaving. It is my own special guilt recipe consisting of a heaping helping of mom-guilt, mixed with 2 parts Catholic-guilt, and a little pre-deployment guilt sprinkled on top. All served up nice and fresh on a steaming pile of shit. But where were we? Leaving the house. I start thinking about things that would be so much easier to do without ANY babies attached to my person. And since everyone is napping, I can go off and run this errand myself! But as soon as I leave, I start thinking that I should be at home. I should just sit on the floor next to the couch and watch my husband nap, like a creeper. He won't be here that much longer and you'll be wishing that you hadn't wasted your time running stupid errands when you could have been creepin' on him! Stupid, stupid shit.

Now he is telling me there is no room for MY shit in his bag. Seriously? I did not just waste time making stupid letters and chocolate-covered pretzels for nothing. Excuse me while I go rearrange some of his shit to make room for my shit. Shit.