It's Time For a Pipdate!

5 months old. How is that possible? I'm pretty sure 5 months of pregnancy feels like 5 years. And five months of your first child's life feels like at least a year. But for some reason 5 months of your 3rd child's life feels like 3 weeks. Yet here it is.

Pippa is:

GORGEOUS. Something about her is different than my other two kids. I think they had my coloring. So they looked...normal. But Pippa is golden. And pink. And fair. Her skin is so pale, her eyes are still blueish-grey, her hair is so strawberry blond. And she is sooooo plump. She is just different looking than my other babies. And I LOVE to stare at her. She is breath-taking.

BUSY. That girl. That girl! She cannot hold still! She is on the go, she is looking around, she is turning from one side to the other, stretching to reach what is just beyond her hands, above her head, behind her back. She can't quite roll over, but she's close. And trying ALL THE TIME. She's too busy to eat. Any sound makes her head whip around, away from her bottle. She's too busy to sleep. My once easy sleeper wants to roll and turn and grab and look. Sleeping is so passé. Even her binky is so passé. She puts everything (but not her binky) in her mouth. Every gross thing you hand her or she finds near her. She sticks it in her mouth (by way of her eye or nose or cheek, because her coordination isn't quite honed yet). But baby food? Oh no. That makes her face squinch up like you just fed her something crazy. Dirty socks? Acceptable. Sweet potatoes? No way lady.

BIG. 16 pounds big. 9-12 month clothes big! I've never had a big one. I remember my babies both being fat at one point or another, but Daphne was always several sizes behind her age, and Beck was lucky if he was on target most of the time. Pippa? She wears a size 3 diaper and a size 12 jammy. And the rolls on her arms and thighs are delicious.

SWEET. When I kiss her neck and shoulder really fast, when her brother jumps up and down in front of her, when her sister sings her a song, when Daddy throws her in the air, she laughs this sweet laugh, like water trickling down a pebbly stream. Like a small pop of firecrackers. It's perfect. And when I hold her in my arms, and she drinks her bottle, and she looks up at me with this look like I'm the most beautiful, wonderful person in the world....ahhh, then my cup is full.

Five wonderful months.

M.I.A. or A.W.O.L?

I'm here. Really I am. It just appears as though I have fallen off the face of the earth. Or maybe it doesn't cause there is no one out there to notice.

These days I feel really proud of myself when I spend 10 minutes reading and commenting on other people's blogs. It brings back fond memories. Of when I spent 2-3 eager HOURS a day reading and commenting on other people's blogs. And another joyous hour writing a few of my own. (Remember that? When we would write MORE THAN ONE BLOG POST A DAY?) How did we do it?? Why did we stop?

We stopped because there was life. Oh that. Life. Kids. Kids who need attention. Kids who don't want me to shout "Just a minute...I'm almost done with my post!" from the other room while I upload and edit the pictures that will go on the blog post I haven't even begun composing yet. And a husband. A husband who wants a meal when he gets home from a hard day's work. And a kiss. And a hello. A hello not wedge in between the third and fifth edit of my blog post. And then there's the laundry and the sweeping and the dishes to put away and the bathroom to scrub and the and the and the.

And then there was the baby...and, well, she trumped everything. 'Cause she just doesn't wait for me to sort through my reader, looking for the most neglected blogs to catch up on before I hug her and change her and make her a bottle.

And so, it appears, I am missing. But not lost. I'm out there somewhere, mentally composing clever, witty, interesting posts. With pictures. Perfectly framed pictures.

Anyway, I love and appreciate so much those real-friends and stranger-friends and virtual-friends who have continued to read my blog despite my becoming a super dooper LAME blogger.

I dream of the day when I will have the time (and will?) to get back to the good old blogging days. I'll have to go out and search for new bloggers to read me. Bloggers who don't have LIFE pulling at them from all directions. So let me know, you guys, when that's you--when your laundry and kids and husband are all done and loved and satisfied and paid-attention-to and everyone around you is begging you, please, to just sit down for a few hours and blog. OK?

I'll see you then.

(p.s. I'm not quitting blogging. I just realized it sounds like I am. No, I'm just making excuses for how much I suck. I will still be here, in a few days, continuing to write to a make-believe audience who hangs on my every word, don't worry.)

A Little Slice Of Heaven

Kids at school

Baby in Bed

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal cookies, warm

Milk, cold

Say Yes To The Dress" on DVR.


Ahhhh....27 minutes of heaven.



What does your slice of heaven made of?

Paparazzi

I have taken so many photos of my kids lately, I swear I feel like their own personal paparazzi. Mostly it's because I'm getting used to my new camera. Also because I happen to think they're extremely cute. I'm not biased, I'm a photo-journalist in my dreams, so it's completly objective. Here are a few I've taken lately (grandparents, this is mostly for you.)

At Bridalveil Falls...










Her Royal Cuteness






Beauty School Drop Outs





Her Royal Fatness



At Cascade Springs (We have been getting in some serious nature lately. 9:00 church rocks!)...


(Look! I'm actually IN a picture!)





SO Attractive...



Well, that should tide the relatives over for a few more months, right?