right now . . .

Sam: 2 years 4 months and 18 days
loves: freezy pops (who doesn't?!), his yellow fireman rain boots, Horton Hears a Who movie, helping mama cook, saying prayers before nap especially since that tends to delay the actual napping part, playing tricks, sneaking up on mama in the shower with his camera (aka his "cheese") and taking pictures while shouting "HINEY! HINEY!"
hates: having the water poured over his head while in the tub, going with out a shirt (although he will rock a pants-less outfit from time to time), leaving "Pop's house"

Boden: 10 weeks 6 days
loves: boobs, pooping, smiling at mama and dada, hearing his brothers voice
hates: reflux

I've been getting the chills lately. For no reason I'll just start to shiver out of nowhere. It lasts for less than one second and it always brings an unplanned smile to my face. It happens often enough for me to notice somethings going on. No I don't think there is some kind of weird medical issue. I really think it's waves of happiness. After having Bo, the hormonal mess I am during pregnancy continued. They are still there, the hormones, but they seem to be relatively under control. I feel less crazy. I feel closer to what normal feels like. I feel happy. For the last few weeks, months even, I don't think I've really appreciated all I have. And since Bo was born, I've been wrapped up in all the craziness that comes with staying home with a two year old boy and a newborn baby. Don't get me wrong, that craziness is still here. I refer to our house as "crazy town" all the time and I think it's fairly accurate. Even with a baby as chill as Bo, it's still a lot to manage. Especially when I'm trying to keep up with my photography business. And for a while I assumed it was my just not being able to handle it. But I realize that there's nothing wrong with me. It just really is hard. And I'll figure it out whenever I figure it out, or maybe I won't at all, but either way, we'll all be fine. We'll all still laugh at Sam and smile at Bo and cheers our grilled cheese sandwiches with friends and clap and say "YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!" when we pull into Grandma and Grandpa's driveway or talk to GiGi on the phone. Even on a hard day, there are still 1,000 opportunities to smile and laugh with Sam and Bo around. It doesn't get much better than that.

So the chills. I think it really is happiness. It's that feeling of overwhelming love. They happen because it's either that or uncontrollably shouting at the top of my lungs "Holy crap I love these boys!" And if I shout, then Sam shouts, and since we already live in crazy town I'd like to not make it any crazier if I can help it.

So here's to chills. Here's to shouting. Here's to crazy town.
Cheers.

Maija.                                Sam.

Sam and Maija making out. Again.

Sam loves to pick the pears from our tree. 

cowboys and guitars

I took zero photos this week of Sam. Maybe it's because of my funky cold, my funky mood, a lot of funky stress relating to the great Boyer house hunt 2012. So this morning, Sam and I went to play with our friends. And with coffee, an Elmo guitar, and a fireman's hat, I de-stressed. And although it might have been temporary, it was much needed. :)

Mental Nesting

Nesting. I mockingly chuckle at the idea of it when I'm not pregnant, but when I am I can't deny the strange desire, no, NEED, to do it. It's bizarre really. Part of the need this time around is the thought that with two kids I'll never have time or energy to organize anything ever again. Dramatic, I realize. Irrational? Likely. But my reality none the less. What's hard is not knowing where I should nest. We are in the process of finding the right house for our expanding brood. It's not as fun a process as I anticipated. And I've been anticipating it for at least 5 years now. Probably more.

As my belly gets bigger, the house gets smaller. I drank the potion and am expanding by the second. It definitely feels like the walls are closing in and the doorways getting smaller. I'm not sure how I fit through them the last time! The booger has no designated room. I have no designated space. There's no room anywhere for Sam to put anything he might get for his upcoming 2nd birthday. And all I want to do is figure out where to create the space. Figure out where I can put this and that. Try to remember where the tiny baby things are. Some is in storage. Some in the basement. Some probably still behind Sam's crib where he likes to hide things. It's a mess. My head is a mess trying to sort it all out. I've been trying to busy myself with other things to distract from this feeling, but what happens is I'm feeling it anyway and the other things get pushed to the side. I am not even 100% sure what we are going to name this kid, I need to have something real here to feel like he is actually coming.

So while I try to figure out how to do that, Sam is distracting me every day. In a good way (usually). He is obsessed with "taking pictures". He talks about the car-car all day long. He screams with glee at the finale of the Sesame Street song. He wants to be so helpful - feeding Daisy (which he really does), putting things in the trash (and most of the time they actually belong there), trying to put on his own socks (which he gave up on and put one on his nose the other day). He mimics our actions, and thankfully not our words yet. Well at least my words. Phil doesn't say bad words.

His giggles, smiles, and ornery tactics make me smile entirely too much each day. I fear I'm relying too much on him to keep me from going into a bad funk while we search for our house and get through this stressful time. But I don't think he feels the pressure. I think he just feels love. He loves to hug tight. To sneak into a spot I was sitting as soon as I move out of it just to tease me. To hide something I'm looking for and put his pointer finger to his lips and say "Hmmmm" as he pretends to be unaware of where it is. Without those things, my day would simply suck. And the drool. Oh yes, there is still an INSANE amount of drool. I don't even care anymore. It took almost 2 years for me to not care. But really, it's just plain weird there's so much of it it's become comical. Still incredibly gross, but comical.

My funny valentine. What would I do without you?

teething bites

Yes, this is just a snippet of my life right at this very moment. Thinking, wtf? Yeah, me too. These days I like my coffee with a little bit of crazy, and a whole lotta booze.

Normalcy is right around the corner, I can smell it. Or maybe thats just a side effect of getting slammed in the temple by an alarm clock at 5am by my 16 month old son. I'm not really sure. But I'm going to go get another dose of ibuprofen either way.

Enjoy your weekend. I hope it's a lot less screechy than mine is sure to be.