It was that fun

We road tripped it to Kansas City this past weekend to visit Brennan and Alexandra. Oh, and Brian and Sherri were there as well. They're fine. But enough about them. Let's talk about Mary Clare's favorite KC residents, Bee and Aaalecks.


My super sweet nephew and even sweeter niece were just as funny and cute as ever. In fact, I was so busy soaking up their goodness that I didn't get out my camera until the day that we left.  (Sorry, mom. I know you had high hopes for a frame-worthy photo of all three grandchildren, but I'm telling you, it's just not going to happen. At least not until they're in high school. And even then you might have to buy each of them a car.)

 

But I did capture the cuteness with a few candid shots of Brennan and Mary Clare cruising around on his trike in an attempt to get away from the Moo Monster, also known as Papa Jones. And if you can handle poor video quality, shrieking, squealing and barking, then click here to check out the Moo Monster in action.

Even an under-the-weather Baby A obliged me with a small smile as she watched the action from the safety of Uncle Chip's lap. Seriously, this is probably the only time the entire weekend she wasn't throwing out full-on smiles. She's that content of a little girl. So content and so happy, in fact, that whenever Sherri wasn't looking, I would take Alex and rub her against my belly in the hopes that her laidback vibe would be transmitted to Baby Lindh via osmosis.


Just kidding. Maybe. But seriously, Brian, when can we come back?

Concentration

Mary Clare is into arting these days as well. And while Mary Clare practices a smock-free, shirt-required version of arting, it does, apparently, demand a lot of concentration. Hence, the tongue. 

Chip's sister Kerstin swears that this is a trait she inherited from her father, as apparently young Chiparoonie used to also stick his tongue out when he was hard at work. No matter its origins, I think it's pretty darned cute.

But lest you think Mary Clare is getting serious on us, fear not. She also inherited some goofy I'll-stick-things-in-my-eye-to-make-people-laugh habits that no doubt come from her mother.

And you people thought the only thing I gave her was my huge forehead. That's right. Only the best genes for my girl.

A nice start to the day

Is there really any better way to start the day than with an announcement from your friends that Baby #3 arrived? I think not.

Congratulations to our good friends Matt and Laura (and big brother Max and big sister Maddy) on the arrival of Tate Matthew!

H is for ham

This little pose? It's Mary Clare's new thing. And guess who taught her how to do it? Chip. I know, can you believe it?

This legs-crossed-with-one-arm-propped-and-one-arm-posed beauty is 100 percent the handiwork of her father. And both he and Mary Clare take the pose very seriously.

And would you believe, Chip actually gives me grief about the hair bows. Hair bows, of all things. Puh-lease. Those harmless pieces of grosgrain have nothing on the vanity that comes from teaching your daughter how to pose. Even if it is hilarious.

Say it isn't so

Yes, my Mary Clare, 'tis true. I took all of these adorable photos of you this weekend in your Valentine's day finery, and then failed to post them on February 14.

In my defense, baby girl did give us a run for our money yesterday morning. As I packed my bag for work and Chip loaded the car, Mary Clare milled about with her Cheerios and milk, as is her custom. I turned just in time to see her clamber up her two-stepped stool, lose her balance and go crashing into Buddy's filled-to-the-brim water bowl. Her butt was wedged in the bottom, her feet were straight up in the air, her arms were flailing and she was soaked from head to toe. While it was a fairly safe landing, it did, in fact, make for quite a mess. And quite an angry Mary Clare. So I straight-arm carried her to the counter like any loving mother would, jammed a binkie in her mouth, stripped off her daycare-appropriate Valentine's day ensemble and hustled her upstairs to find something else red. (Because you know those toddlers are the first to notice if you're not wearing holiday attire. Oh, how they judge.)

Naturally, there was no time to snap a picture of Mary Clare in either of yesterday's Valentine's day ensembles, much less post photos. To make up for that, I'm loading you up with mucho photos of her baking up Valentine's day treats for Brennan and this past Saturday. We seem to bake a lot for them these days. Because heaven knows Alexandra needs to pack on the LBs.

Hope you all had a great -- and dry -- Valentine's day!

Bundled up baby

Yes, she's a toddler. Yes, when I call her baby she says, "No, mama baby!" and points at my stomach.

But I can't help it. She's my baby girl. And she's cute as a button.

Click here for more photos from her first official foray into the snow. I'm a little slow on the upload, so the pictures are from a few weeks ago. But there's street sledding, people. Yes, street sledding with a toddler.

G is for growing

At 21 weeks, I'm just past the halfway mark of this pregnancy, and the belly is definitely growing. And how.

Looking back at the photos from when I was pregnant with Mary Clare, I guess I am about the same size now as I was then. However, what I seem to have forgotten is how quickly I pop out with these pregnancies. And I use the term "pop" lightly, as the belly is much more than a mere pop. We're talking category five thar-she-blows hurricane status, people. I'm actually fine with it; it's just what my body does during pregnancy. I would be lying, however, if I said it weren't a smidge unnerving to see how I stack up against some other friends who are also pregnant.

My current belly size is closest to that of Laura. She's due in less than two weeks. Nice. Kaly, who is five weeks ahead of me, has nothing on what Baby Lindh and I are packing. Kara is about three weeks ahead of me, and while I haven't seen her in a month or so, I just know that stinker is smaller than me as well. (My guess is it has something to do with her being a high school cheerleader and me being in the band. It always goes back to band.) And then there's Sandra, who is due three weeks after me, and yet the size of her belly is remarkably similar to how I look after eating a large meal. As in she doesn't look pregnant.

The only solace I can take in all of this is knowing that no matter how large the Baby Lindh belly gets, it is highly unlikely that I will ever match the nearly 90:10 baby-to-body ratio that our petite friend Melanie reached during not one, but two pregnancies. I feel safe saying this now, not only because Melanie delivered two perfect babes and instantly morphed back into her small self, but because her prego bellies were truly epic. As in it was hard not to stare. As in she keeps a picture on her phone lest anyone try to say that they are bigger than she ever was. It still amazes me that she never actually tipped over.

But since I have no hopes of ever reaching a 90:10 baby-to-body ratio, and my face already feels puffier, I guess it's time to lay off the sweets. Damn. It was fun while it lasted.

Arting

I don't know if it's disappointment over the complete and utter lack of snow St. Louis received this week or what, but I'm just not feeling creative. Luckily, the same is not true for my boy Brennan, who put on a Village People Art Show for Sherri the other night.

There is no denying that the boy has style. Or a sense of humor. Shortly after taking this picture, Brennan announced, "Mom, I'm finished arting now."