Christmas Footage

As promised - the first encounter with Santa:


Christmas Morning Video:


Ross and Niki open gifts with her parents by phone:

39 weeks

39 weeks, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

I put Scott through a gruelling photo shoot last night because I was bound and determined to document the ninth month this time around. Never did get any good preggo shots last time around. This isn't the most lovely picture he took, but I had to keep it G-rated since this is a family-friendly blog.

Click Here for More G-Rated Photos of Me at 39 Weeks!

PS

Can anyone remember what is supposed to go in a hospital bag??

No News

Just a quick post to say that nothin's happened yet, in case you were wondering. We made it home from the holidays safely (though slowly - my aunt and uncle made it home from NoVA to upstate New York faster than we made it home from NoVA to Heathsville - normally a 2 hour drive). Things are starting to stir below the equator, however. Acccording to the Doc, I am begining to dialate and all that good stuff - which means absolutely nothing, except that this baby is planning to greet the world sometime in the next few weeks, and we already knew that. At least we've established that we're all on the same page. Now home, the amount of stuff that needs doing seems insurmountable. Maybe I'll start by packing a hospital bag.

Countdown

Assuming that she won't be late -

-Sorry, there are no prizes for correct guesses - just the glory of knowing you were right.

Anticipation

Three weeks until this chick hatches. I had my first under the hood check up Monday and there is NOTHING to report. Nada. Zilch. Which is fine by me. Funny thing about second babies. I'd be perfectly content to be pregnant for another nine months. If you can ignore my complaints about not being able to breathe, having my ribs bruised from within, indigestion, back pain, sleepiness accompanied by sleeplessness . . . well then I am really a chipper mother-to-be. Right now, she's well fed. Her diapering needs are all taken care of. She sleeps when she wants to. She never cries. I don't have to do anything and life can just continue on like it is - so long as she remains unhatched.

It's not like that the first time around when you are so excited you just want them to be born yesterday. I looked around my house and panicked because if I went into labor tonight my neighbor, who is designated middle-of-the-night emergency person, would discover my inner slob. And there was no gas in the car. Scott gave me a good talking-to about that. I don't have extra dog food, the crib is in pieces, my car needs detailing and, dammit, I need a haircut. I am JUST NOT READY. Which is exactly what concerns me. Murphy's law dictates that, were I completely prepared, I could guarantee at least another three weeks of pregnancy. Given the current state of my life, I'll be lucky to make it through Sunday.

For Women

I would like to dedicate this BBC video to all women who have ever dealt with a sick husband.

Ho, Ho, Who?

who are you?, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

I'm not sure who looks more concerned here, Santa or Sawyer. The photo shoot was going well until Sawyer turned around to take a look at the jolly ol' fella who was holding him. (Video coming).

The gathering was called "Breakfast with Santa." S.C. arrived by boat and we met Santa in a reception hall for a snack of donuts and orange juice. Scott and I ended up at a big round table by ourselves with Sawyer. Every place was already set with three mini-donuts and a small Dixie Cup of O.J. There were three kinds of donuts: cruellers, powdered and chocolate covered. Sawyer systematically made his way around the table and ate every single chocolate-covered donut available. Hopefully nobody else sat down after we left, but at least all the plates still looked identical!

Fruit and Flowers

4 years, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Scott and I celebrated four years of matrimony on Wedneday. Four years doesn't sound like very long, considering that it seems like we've been together forever. I suppose the fact that we lived in sin for two years before getting married may skew things.

Since we got married around Thanksgiving, smack in between Scott's birthday and Christmas, we've always been rather low-key about the anniversaries. We decided from the get-go to always follow the traditional gift list. So, the first year we gave each other paper. I got a journal and Scott got a poster. The second year was cotton. Scott got a shirt and I got a scarf. The third year was leather. I got cowgirl boots and Scott got slippers. We were kinda moving up in the world as far as the gifts go.

And then, this year, the list threw us for a loop. Fruit and flowers is the traditional fourth anniversary gift. I tried to think of clever ways to get around that - Fruit of the Loom? Fruit Flavored? But, in the end, keeping it simple was, well, the simplest thing to do. So I got Scott flowers. And he got me a pointsetta (probably should have been the other way around, no?). And we made luxurious chocolate fondue and dipped strawberries and pears and bananas. And, you know what? It was perfect. So maybe that list knows what it's talking about. After four years (and almost two kids) this was just what we needed. A little bit of romance at home.

So happy anniversary to us.

Photo Shoot

Brothers, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

It's always interesting trying to get the perfect Christmas card shot. Especially when there's a squirmy toddler involved. Throw in a few dogs and it's a downright fiasco. This won't be this year's winner, but it was too cute to collect dust.

Justin was out for Thanksgiving week and, as always, it was wonderful having him here. He pushed his little brother up and down the hall on his toddler car only about 3,569 times. They made faces, played peekaboo and rolled on the floor together. And we did all those other wonderful holiday things like decorating cookies, playing Scrabble and building a giant working model roller coaster out of K-nex.



I would like to add that Anne playing Scrabble is almost unheard of. She prefers to provide advice and criticism safely from the sidelines. John, on the other hand, has long taken pleasure from beating young children at Scrabble with miracle words nobody has ever heard of placed on the triple word score. Happily, Anne won - put us all to shame. My dad may have been a bit jilted after I made him remove the word "porn" from the playing board.

We don't get to see Justin again until spring break and, by then, Five will be here to add a whole new element to the family dynamic.

Deck the Halls

Decorating cuteness, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Decorating a Christmas tree provides an entirely new challenge when a toddler is in the picture. My tree, as a result, looks a little top-heavy this year. All my glass balls and fragile decorations hang above the three foot mark. Below the mark are all the hardy ornaments that can be pulled and prodded by curious little fingers. That said, we are having "gentle" lessons, learning to pat the tree nicely and point to the ornaments rather than trying to CRUSH them with our pincer grasp. The big shock to anyone who knows me should be that my tree is decorated (and it's not even December!) Scott and I are famous for marauding through the woods a week before Christmas to pilfer a sapling that would make Charlie Brown proud. Maybe it's the new house. Maybe its this pregnancy thing (I've also been baking a lot lately - very uncharacteristic). But I was gung ho to get the tree done this weekend. Haven't done a lick of shopping and don't plan to set foot in a store this year. No Black Friday for me. So, if you want a gift, send me your Amazon wish list. I intend to purchase every last item online and have it sent, gift wrapped, direct from the store; or bake it. I may be decorating trees a month early and clipping cookie recipes, but a pregnant woman has to draw her boundaries.

Sawyer seems to be picking right up on this whole Christmas bit. Indeed Santa holds some sort of magical power over all children. To distract Saywer during the decorating process, I handed him an old Santa Claus Pez dispenser. I told him it was Santa, said Ho-HO-Ho. He walked around chewing on it for about 20 minutes and then discarded it. Before bed, I busted out The Night Before Christmas. When we got to the page with a pop-up Santa Claus, Sawyer scrambled out of my lap, bee-lined across the room, picked up the Pez dispenser and started running around the house saying 'Ho-HO-ho.' He got it. That fast. Blew me away.

Scott was charged with documenting the decorating process. He snapped away wildly, but when I downloaded the photos, there was hardly a single photo with my face in it. I'll spare you the details. Here's me, with six weeks of baking to go:

Happy Turkey

turkey small, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Hope everyone is having a joyful holiday. Got the opportunity to 'interview' a pardoned turkey here in the Northern Neck for the newspaper this week (desperate for stories).

This organic 18-pounder wasn't so lucky:







Scott thinks his new oven is absolutely brilliant. Based on the results, I would have to agree.

I want I want I want

Per request - I have compiled a Christmas list for the Pierce Posse.
Scroll down to bottom of page and click on links to get ideas.

First kiss

Scott taught Sawyer to kiss.
It had never occurred to me that you had to 'teach' kissing. Maybe I'm just not Betty Crocker enough or something.
So, for a while there, Scott was the only one getting Sawyer kisses, or so he said. It was all fairy tale legend as far as I was concerned. Everytime he tried to show me - nothing. My kid doesn't perform on demand.
So, it struck me as odd when Sawyer came up to me recently while I was sitting on the floor with him, put his face very close to mine and started going "mmmmm."
My first reaction was to lean back: 'Dude, you're in my space. I need at least three inches and I can feel your breath.' (Definitely not Betty Crocker enough).
But - hit me over the head with a frying pan - I suddenly realized that Sawyer was trying to kiss me.
I leaned forward and pecked his pursed little lips. He followed up with the obligatory "mwoa" kissing sound and trotted off happily, leaving me in a melted puddle on the floor.

Siberia

Sawyer fire hat, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

A recent conversation between me and Sawyer:
WSP: carrying a shoe into living room; "Shoe."
Me: "Yes, that's a shoe."
WSP: holding shoe out toward me; "Shoe."
Me: Uh-huh. "Shoe."
WSP: shoving shoe into my face; "Shoe."
Me: "You are already wearing shoes Sawyer."
WSP: continuing to shove shoe in my face; "Shoe."
Me: taking shoe. "Thank you."
WSP: Walking away happily; "Tee Hoo."

Uh, does anybody else understand what just happened?

Baby

People often ask me whether Sawyer understands that I'm having a baby. For the last 7 months, the answer has been, no, he doesn't have the foggiest idea what a baby is or, for that matter, what a belly is. He certainly doesn't grasp the concept that there is a baby in my belly.
But, to my utter astonishment, Sawyer picked up my shirt the other day, pointed to my stomach and said, "baby."
I was so glad he didn't say, "too many donuts."

Country Boy takes on City Boyz

wsp slide 3, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

This is one of those photos that just captures everything I love about my son. He's timid, yet adventuresome; happy, even when he has a cold and looks dapper in flannel. At the park on Sunday, he was put to shame by the Tovsky twins who are obviously regulars (see photo of Chase below for proof). Not only have they mastered the slide, they understand that the swing is supposed to be fun, not torture. Sawyer got the hang of the slide, but he still needs some practice on the swing (as evidenced by the violent shaking and gripping fear).





















Here's some more great photos of the kids.

Too Much Panda

too much panda, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Scott turned, gulp, 40 Friday and since I don't have a photo of him to post I thought I would share this photo he took at the zoo. He really wanted to do something special to celebrate, like buy a Harley and drive it across country or go City Slickers style and wrestle cattle on a range out west. He had to settle with a weekend in DC where we met up with the Tovskys of Philidelphia, Penn. and Randall-Kims of Reston, Va. I sent Scott to get a haircut in preparation for the big event, but the hairdresser must have forgotten to use scissors because he can still tuck his hair behind his ears (can you say mid-life crisis?). Then we put on the duds and headed out for the most expensive meal of our lives Friday night in Old Town at a place where the bar tender makes his own tonic and maraschino cherries and the chef sends you delectable "gifts" between each course. The entire meal took four hours to eat. The next day we took the kiddos on a trip to the National Zoo where we saw, among other things, pandas, hippos, elephants, zebras, gorillas, lions and monkeys. Sawyer was really into the whole experience and was able to pick out the animals, unlike our trip to the San Diego zoo when he was nine months old. My favorite was the lion that roared and looked like he might attack us at any moment. Sawyer's favorite was an anteater that ran across the glass cage right at his eye level. Scott's favorite was the gorilla in the window who kept puking and then slurping it back up over and over again. If we'd had a camera, Scott could have made a million dollars, or at least gotten a million hits on You Tube. Happy Birthday Babe. Maybe you'll get to lasso a bull on your 60th, after all, 60 is the new 40. More zoo photos here.

Brother

I love this recent post from my brother's perspective : Uncle Ross's Blog.

PARTY!

going crazy, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Sawyer had so much fun at the Halloween Party we took him to Saturday. He chased after all the bigger kids who left him blowing like a blade of grass in the wind as they whizzed by. But that didn't phase him. Seconds later he was back out in the middle of the floor dancing (I must get video of this) and running after the ninjas and transformers. I didn't realize how fun Halloween would be this year (Remember my reluctance to participate last year?) Now I can't wait for tomorrow. See MORE PHOTOS.

Look Who's Talking

I picked up a book on language development at the library the other day. My plan was to get a basic month-by-month toddler guide, but the book they had was 10 years old and flipping through it I decided it wasn't really going to be all that helpful. In the process, I stumbled across a book called "Beyond Baby Talk," and because I've decided that Sawyer communicating is the key to surviving Baby #2, I checked it out.

With the hopes of jump-starting the talking, I have been obsessively naming everything in sight in the last four or five months. Book. Cup. Spoon. Banana. Chair. To my dismay, Sawyer hasn't picked up any of these words.

His communication skills are improving, however. He understands: Go get the book. Where's the duck? Do you want a banana? But, he doesn't repeat Book. Duck. Banana. And, if I'm laying on the couch he'll grab my finger and start pulling, saying "up, up, up." Or he'll bring me his shoes and then walk to the door waving his hand and saying, "bye-bye." Or he'll ask "What's That?"or "Where's Dada?" And, bless his heart, he says "Thank you" when he hands you a piece of trash he's picked up off the floor.

The other thing - one that kinda drives me nuts - is that one of his first words (referring to the dogs) was dada. or maybe he's saying dagdag, it doesn't sound exactly like Da-da but it's hard to tell. He is clearly referring to our dogs or pictures of dogs, not his dad. I constantly correct him: No, Sawyer, that's not dada its doggie. He just stares at me blankly like: "no duh, mom. that's what I said: 'dada.'

Come to find out, Sawyer is not a "noun-lover," he's a "noun-leaver." Apparently it all has to do with style and while the noun-lover may have more vocabulary early on, the differences will disappear over time.

The book's metaphor is that on one end you have the analytical-type person who reads trade magazines and does price comparisons before shopping. These are the noun-lover types who like to label people and objects in their environment. Ball. Shoe. Girl. Foot. Car.

On the other end, you have the risk-takers, and I quote: "They're the ones who can be found bungee jumping, riding dirt bikes, snowboarding or engaging in other types of extreme experiences." Hmmmmm!!!! These babies are about actions and interactions and while they will use nouns, they are more likely to use other kinds of words, like 'bye-bye,' 'all done' and 'again' quite frequently.

Apparently the key to language development is to match baby's style (if they lean more one way or the other), which I have not been doing. I've been forcing my style of naming everything in sight. Boat. Flower. House. Door. DOGGIE, while he's been looking at the firetruck book saying "woohoo-woohoo," or hiding behind his hands and saying "pee-ha-hoo."

Point being, I'm not going to get anywhere with Sawyer by flipping flash cards (which I was seriously considering) and naming body parts. And, I'm wasting my breath demanding accuracy with the dada-doggie thing.

I'm better off teaching him animal sound "the cow says moo," and knowing that when he points at the trees and says "what's that," and I tell him, he's storing the information away somewhere but he's not likely to repeat it back to me anytime soon. And maybe its not even the trees he cares about. Maybe it's the wind.

Insomnia

Try sleeping when a three pound creature is navigating YOUR insides like a compass.

TV

tv, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

I have to give props to Scott who snagged this sunset photo just down the road from our house. We'd both been driving by this TV for a week when I said, I want to take a picture of that, and Scott said, no way, I already said that. The race was on, but he got there first and a few days later the TV was gone. There's about 100 different things I love about this picture. That the TV somehow ended up on the side of the road perfectly intact. I mean, did it fall off a truck and not break? Or did somebody carefully set it there on the edge of this random field? I love that it has dials, and dust still on top. And I love that it disappeared as quietly and randomly as it appeared. But, most of all, I love that Scott got the photo.

This is what I know

wsp -15 months, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Sawyer turned 15 months today. Not that I'm celebrating monthly birthdays anymore. My play-by-play Baby Manual ran out at 12 months, so from here on out we're in a phase I'll refer to in future years simply as "toddlerhood."

Toddlerhood comes complete with temper tantrums. Sawyer's tantrum style actually kind of cracks me up. It's sorta Scarlett O'Hara when she "falls" oh-so-dramatically on the stairs with the ruffles of her skirt still perfectly splayed. When I don't, say, give Sawyer the baby cheese puffs, he lets out an initial wail, sprawls oh-so-dramatically on the floor for a minute and then, when he's feeling thoroughly ignored, pops back up to resume life-as-usual. Unless, of course, he accidentally bangs his head on the floor in the process, which happens sometimes. Then the tears are real; he gets ignored all the same.

Toddlerhood also comes with disobedience. Like today, when he started scampering up the stairs despite my repeated "no's." It was sheer defiance – the narrow-eyed glance over the shoulder just before takeoff. An age-appropriate time-out ensued - one whole eternity of a minute penned up in the crib. After about 45 seconds, the screaming abruptly stopped and I found him playing happily with a toy.

Toddlerhood, in Sawyer's case, comes with being "finicky." My parents swear that for one whole year of my life I ate nothing but hot dogs and peas and for the year following that I mainlined pickles. Sawyer, at the moment, adheres to a strict diet of fruit, dairy and bread-related-products. He doesn't even like pasta! Every day I add to the list of things he won't eat. I see this as my greatest failure to date as a parent, and I beat my self up over it regularly – despite constant reassurance from parents whose kids eat almost everything that my kid will be fine. Just to be sure, I poke at his ribs occasionally to check if they've started showing through the skin. So far, he's still Butterball.

Toddlerhood is good things too, like learning how to use the slide and going up and down it over and over again. And playing Ring Around the Rosie and wanting to fall down when I start singing "ashes, ashes" because, oh, it's just too hard to wait. And then grabbing my hand and forcefully pulling me up to play it again. And being able to stack the little wooden rings on the stick or put the puzzle shapes back in the right spot. And bringing me shoes while waving bye-bye when it's time to go somewhere, especially when I am getting ready to go somewhere alone. And trying to climb into the rocking chair at bedtime because that's where we read books and finally the routine we've been repeating these last 13 months is catching on.

And, more than anything, what I adore about Sawyer at this moment in toddlerhood is that, God bless it, he loves to sleep. He naps twice a day, sometimes for two hour stretches, giving me time to get stuff done around the house. And then he'll sleep for 13 hours at night on top of that. This beautiful birthday Sunday morning, when the house was cold at dawn, he cried out at little. Scott picked up and brought him to the couch, covering them both with a blanket. And they slept there, together, until 9:30 a.m. And I slept too. And it was beautiful.

Fall Arrives

Fall Arrives, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

The temperatures have finally cooled. I bought this jacket for a recent wedding but figure - why shouldn't we get some more use out of it? Okay, maybe it's a bit formal for your average playground, but Sawyer is a hip dude. I think he can pull off a corduroy blazer over striped cotton leggings, don't you?

28 weeks

28 weeks, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

It's hard to believe that I'm now in my third trimester. Just the thought of it is making me hyperventilate. The longer this baby stays in the womb the better. Right now its well fed and rested and I don't have to do anything.

In the meantime I have been receiving generous hand-me-downs from friends. I guess I never realized just how much pink girls wear. I mean, EVERYTHING is pink. I remember feeling that way about baby boy blue for a while, but there are so many colors that boys can wear - green, red, brown, grey and, my favorite, orange. Apparently if you put a baby girl in anything but pink or purple, people think its a boy. It's a little nauseating.

That said, I think I'm all set on clothes through next fall. I definitely have all I need for the 0-6 month age range, in case you are somebody who might want to shop for girl clothes (think summer 6+ months, fall 9+ months and winter 12+ months). I'm also all set on shoes until she starts walking.

In fact, if you are somebody who might be wondering what we need for the new arrival, I've started a list below. It's pretty short right now. I'll keep adding to it as I think of things. Unfortunately, its all big items - like three more convertible car seats, other forms of baby transportation and a few things to girly-up the nursery.

The other day, somebody I occasionally work with walked up to me after a meeting and put their hands on my stomach. Now this woman rightly predicted that I was having a boy last time. This time she close her eyes for a moment (maybe hummed a little) and then pronounced 'It's a boy!' It's actually a girl, I said. 'No. It's a boy!' she said, looking upset and then walking away. All I have to say is that if this is a boy I'm suing the ultrasound tech, or at least making her retrieve all the baby boy clothes I've already given away.

Punkin'

pumpkin boy, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Allow me to break the ice. Now that October is officially here, blogging moms across the country will be posting pumpkin patch photos until we have seeds coming out our ears. Despite the fact that it was 80-degrees here today and nothing like an apple-cider sipping fall outing, Sawyer and I hit the local fall festival complete with hay ride and pumpkin patch. While this photo seems dreamy, you should know that I was trying very hard to get Sawyer to look at me, but I couldn't peel his eyes away from the two older boys playing in a big sand pile nearby. Other highlights included meeting a real horse (nothing like our horsey friend that hangs over the changing table) and a potbelly pig that seemed to alternate between wanting to run from us and wanting to charge us. Photos of the animal encounters are on Flickr.. Happy Fall!

Bye Bye Nuk Nuk

Bye Bye Nuk Nuk, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

His pacifier was by far the thing that Sawyer loved most in the world. Given the choice between having me for the rest of his life or his Nuk, I would have been packing my bags. But he wasn't given the choice. In fact, (think what you want of me - Scott calls me Cruella) I snatched the thing away from him cold turkey.

I'm a firm believer in cold turkey - coffee, alcohol, cigarettes, pacifiers - there's no such thing as cutting back.

So, one day Sawyer went down for bed and there was no Nuk there waiting for him. He tossed the crib looking for it, all his covers and stuffed animals had been thrown overboard when we went back in to easy his suffering sobs – not the 'I don't want to go down for bed' sob, but the 'my best friend was just murdered' sob.

It wasn't that he had the thing 24-7. We enforced a fairly strict, bedtime-only rule with the occasional exception for sickness or travel. When he got up from his nap, we always put the Nuk back down to sleep in the crib and waved bye-bye to it. Occasionally he managed to reach it through the slats and would wander out into the living room sucking away triumphantly.

I had been talking about strategy and timing for weeks, but first he was teething and then he had a cold. And people kept telling me it was too early. He needed to suck. He was only a year old. Even the pediatrician said the Nuk is fine until he gets his permanent teeth. ARE YOU KIDDING ME! Okay, honey, have a good day in first grade and be sure to leave your Nuk Nuk in your pencil box during recess, okay? I just couldn't see how it was going to get any easier to take the thing away next month or in five months than right now. And with Five on the way, and hoping she'll take a Nuk, I decided it was best if we eliminated the competition now.

I'll admit, the first few nap times were a disaster. He basically cried for an hour straight. But he went to sleep at night just fine. And, eventually, after about a week, he'd forgotten all about it.

We did bust it out for a wedding last weekend, three weeks after its initial disappearance. A faint glimmer of recognition sparkled in his eye as Scott pulled it out of the bag. He sucked on it for a few minutes - for old time sake - and then threw it on the ground. Vindication. See! I pointed. See! He doesn't even want it.

It's still a little sad. Sawyer doesn't have another lovey. We've always put him down with a few stuffed animals and soft blankets, but he hasn't bonded with any one in particular. Which is maybe just as well since I know several adults (whose identity I will protect) who just can't sleep without their tattered little shred of silky binket.

The great debate

The great debate, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

me: everybody is always commenting on sawyer's eyes.
scott: its their almond shape. he gets that from me.
me: well at least he has my hair color.
scott: but his didn't come out of a box.
me: what about the freckle that recently appeared on his left buttcheek? that definitely came from me.
(scott shoots me a skeptical look)
me: you have to give me SOMETHING!

(This blog post is dedicated to The Godmother and anyone else who has ever noted any resemblence between me and my son.)

Learning to Spoon

learning to spoon, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Or not. It's a messy proposition. But, he has to learn somehow, right? Sometimes its easier to just lick out those last few bites.

Australia

Pierce Posse, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Right. I wish. Actually, this was the Australia exhibit at the National Aquarium in Baltimore. We went with Uncle Ross and Aunt Niki, who were in town visiting for the weekend. We weren't allowed to use our stroller, but the aquarium let us borrow a backpack and now I want one. We did let Sawyer run loose for a while. It's hard to say what he found more fascinating: the fish in the tank, the lighted informational signposts or the railing, which he constantly tried to climb. More photos on Flickr.

Many Hats

me, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

One thing I love about my job is that I'm always getting to put on different hats - sometimes quite literally. One day I could have on the hard hat while touring the new school with the construction supervisor and superintendent. Another day I could be wearing my wool beanie aboard a workboat at dawn with oystermen. This week, I was squirting smoke at honeybees so we could open the hive and get a look inside. And while I almost always prefer to be on the other side of the camera, in this case - I couldn't resist getting a shot of myself dresed as a beekeeper!

Total Recall

retro rocket, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Many months ago, a friend forwarded me an email from another mom about recommended ride-on toys. It would have otherwise never crossed my mind that ride-on toys are appropriate for children under the age of three. Our first riding toys were tricycles and you had to be able to pedal.

Not wanting Sawyer to be deprived in this department - I checked into the woman's recommendations. I chose this Retro Flyer rocket off her list because, well, it's so retro. I put it on Sawyer's wish list and my parents gave it to him for his first birthday.

He received another ride-on car at the same time from our neighbors. Based on the Disney PIXAR CARS movie, this one was made of cheap plastic and was covered with stickers and had about 35 buttons that made all sorts of noise, sang the ABC and numbers and spoke with CARS character voices. Guess which one Sawyer liked better?

I could hardly blame him. The retro rocket doesn't steer. The CARS toy steers and has a horn and a gear shift that makes sounds. The seat on the retro rocket is impossible to lift while the CARS a seat handle and a bar across the back that makes it fun to push. And there are only three buttons on the retro rocket, which absolutely terrify, petrify him. One sets off a woman's deep voice counting down ominously to lift off. The other makes the entire rocket vibrate and sends Sawyer tearing across the room in horror, into my arms, up my torso and over my shoulder.

When our young friend Tayloe was playing with it last week, (note, he wasn't scared) I looked over at Sawyer who was standing in the corner grunting with a frozen 'I'm trying to poop but can't' look on his face. I actually checked his diaper, but it turns out that he was just trying really hard to keep his cool while his buddy played with the really scary rocket ship.

I've figured out how to turn the sounds off on the retro rocket, but it doesn't make the toy any more attractive. I did get Sawyer to ride on it while Tayloe rode the good CAR. But that's about the extent of it.

The CARS ride-on toy is, in fact, his most favorite thing in the whole world next to maybe his Nuk. Sawyer's idea of heaven would be to ride on the car, while sucking his Nuk, with a stash of baby cheese puffs hidden under the seat.

All other toys he views in the context of his CAR. Can I play with it while riding the CAR. Can I put it inside the CAR's seat? Can I stand on the CAR like a surf board and hold the toy in my mouth.

At the secondhand store the other day, he picked out a Leap Frog ABC bus which is now his second favorite toy. He holds it in his lap in and drives the CAR. He pushes it in the CAR. He drives the CAR and pushes it along side.

Scott was excited about the Fisher Price Barn I picked up for only $4 at the second hand store (its probably been recalled along with everything else - who can keep track of what's safe anymore). That toy makes animal sounds when you open the door that are almost as terrifying as the retro rocket. Sawyer cuts a wide berth around it whenever he passes by.

I don't understand why some noisy toys scare him and others don't. The CAR noises are okay. The piano is great. The ABC bus is a blast. But the ball popper, the barn and the rocket are the work of Satan. If Sawyer were in charge of the world, those are the toys that would get recalled.

The Reality of Reality Shows

Three years ago my brother's then girlfriend threw caution (and a great job offer) to the wind and signed up for a new reality show hosted by Richard Branson of Virgin airlines/records fame. She spent something like six weeks filming the show, tromping across four continents and living in tight quarters with a bunch of whiney bitches and chumps. While the journey itself was the experience of a lifetime for her, the final cut turned out to be a bit of a dud. The show never became a Trump classic and was cancelled after the first season.

Turns out the whole show was kinda rigged and the guy who won was actually hand-selected to be part of the cast. He's the dude who owns that bean bag company that you find in malls - Love Sacs. He's since filed Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Too much time jumping out of airplanes with ol' Dick.

The second runner up, a floozy blonde chick, was given a bunch a money to help starving women in africa. I'm not sure she ever did anything with it. She runs a famous bra and panty hose company. The show helped her promote her stuff and now she's even richer than she was before.

Niki and her costar Erica were made out to be the evil model twins on the show and were axed in the second-to-last episode. They remain good friends today. Erica's real modeling career has taken off. She is now happily married and recently shot a promo for Gap maternity. Niki, an attorney, is also now happily married, to my brother, and they have two big dogs and great careers and live the posh life near the Golden Gate.

And they are lucky they didn't win - all the fame and fortune would have really smothered them. Not. I was standing with Niki once at a restaurant in Rossland, Canada when she was recognized. She said it only happened about two other times.

Well, wouldn't you know it, Fox Reality Channel is re-airing the Rebel Billionaire this week - and it's a Marathon! I think its already halfway over, but if you want to laugh (and cringe), check it out. I think it airs twice a day or something. And, don't judge my poor "boorish" and "smug" sister-in-law, as her costars call her. She was the smartest gal out there. So what if she understands the true meaning of 'cutthroat competition.' She fits right in with this family.

And who knows, now that the show is re-airing, it could become a cult classic. Watch out Niki, that could be Letterman calling!

Cracking up

animal crackers, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Thank Barnum for animal crackers. Eating dinner together as a family is often more idealistic than practical, especially right now when Sawyer is clawing at my legs around 5:30 and we can't seem to scrap together a decent meal until 7:30. But, many nights, Sawyer still wants to sit with us, even after he's eaten, and since I'm not really interested in having him climb me or my chair while I try to eat, the challenge is to find some way to occupy him. That, my friends, is what animal cracker were designed for. Plop him in the booster. Give him the whole box. Let him hold it by the string. Make him figure out how to open the cardboard and wax paper. Let him mine the crackers out one by one with sticky fists. Eat in peace. But don't look over at the kid too often cause mushy grahams is not a pretty picture.

Getting Sawyer to eat lately has been a challenge. He's has been on a vegetable strike for months. And, recently, he has been rejecting food in general. He either purses his lips tight as I offer him a spoonful of something or he'll actually put something in his mouth only to spit it right back out. The whole thing gives me a complex. Some days I handle it better than others. Last night was not my most shining moment.

I had the best intentions. A four-square. Little cubes of pork chop left over from last night. Cut up green beans. A scoop of cottage cheese and a scoop of apple sauce. Very well rounded. He wanted nothing to do with the pork. I had zapped it for too long and the pieces were tough and chewy, and maybe a bit too spicy. He mowed the scoop of apple sauce and cottage cheese and ate a few green beans I'd hidden in the cottage cheese, but when he was done he was still hungry. He started whining. I quickly made him a tofu dog. He was fooled only long enough to put a piece in his mouth, but spit it out immediately. The whining got louder.

Scott started in with the peanut gallery about how he wouldn't eat tofu dogs and he doesn't blame the kid. The level of panic was rising. Sawyer's whining had reached a new pitch and all my nerves were on edge. I couldn't feed the kid fast enough. I didn't know what he'd eat. I didn't want to waste food. I decided to try some Easy Mac - don't judge me - the kind I buy for Justin in the summer that he can make all by himself in the microwave. I measured out the right amount of water in the bowl. Poured in the powdered sauce and tried to stir the clumpy lumps of cheese that were forming.

"Did you read the directions?" the peanut man asked. Of course. The first half. "You aren't supposed add the sauce until after you cook it." By now Scott had picked up Sawyer who was in full meltdown mode, barely breathing between sobs. I couldn't take it anymore. I had f-ed up the mac-and-cheese that even Justin can make. I started crying too, a bowl full of gloppy uncooked mac and powdered cheese still in my hands.

Peanut man to the rescue. Scott embraced us all in a big group hug. Gave crying Sawyer to crying mommy, chopped up some turkey sandwich meat that Sawyer ate like it was going out of style, fed him the rest of the apple sauce and several more scoops of cottage cheese and the day was saved. Thanks peanut man. We love you.

I don't know why the food thing stresses me out so much. The mission seems simple. Prevent starvation. Be healthy. Try new things. Offer variety. But it was so much easier when there was only one thing on the menu and I didn't harbor a guilty conscience about my son's singular obsession for hotdogs and cheese puffs.

Because its so much easier

saw pushes tay, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

After many tearful attempts to push things around from opposite ends, Sawyer and Tayloe learn the beauty of working together.

Sawyer and Tayloe

Sawyer and Tayloe, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

This sequence cracks me up. These boys are only two days apart and destined to be best buds. They just have a few reservations to work through first, like Sawyer's jealousy of Tayloe's beautiful hair.

Five Revealed

Scott documents the big day. What will it be? Oh, what will it be.

Drumroll please

My brother called last night to complain that my last post was 'depressing.' Speaking on behalf of second children everywhere, he said that I should never let the baby read it. Funny, when I wrote the post I thought it was honest and witty, ending on a hopeful note. Oh well. I am, in fact, very happy that the fifth member of the Pierce Posse is on its way. At the same time it feels like our little family is floating down a river; the current is slowly start to pick up and far off in the distance I can hear the unmistakable roar of a waterfall. But, I have no idea what will happen when we hit that crest. And, that's the truth of it brother. If having your first baby is thrilling and a little scary, having another so soon is nothing short of petrifying.

As to whether "Five" will ever read any of these posts remains to be seen. Perhaps the Internet will be obsolete by then, and we will all wish we had backed up our blog entries. I, for one, have not printed or framed a single photo of Sawyer and don't even have a scrapbook waiting in the wings to be worked on.

So we leave in a few hours for our ultrasound in Richmond. While Scott is convinced its a girl, and my dad refuses to say because he was so wrong last time (but he will swear he knew it when I get home), I am not going to venture a guess. All I can say is that this baby is far more mellow than the last.

When I was 21 weeks along with Sawyer, I wrote: "My baby update this week noted that I may soon feel like my baby is practicing martial arts as his initial fluttering movements turn into full-fledged kicks and nudges. I actually got my first hint that I was having a boy when he started moving at 17 weeks-- the movements never felt so much like a butterfly as a bat trapped in a box. Now the jabs can be felt through my clothing and Scott got his first good kick last night - at long last, enough of the 'I think I felt something's.'"

Now, 21 weeks along with Five, I haven't even attempted to get Scott to feel because the movements are far more subtle, though constant. There's no martial arts or limbs poking through clothing. I just get the feeling that the baby enjoys floating around in there - sorta like a surfer catching waves.

I remember wondering if Sawyer's personality in the womb would be anything like his personality later on. Well, I can report that he has been on the go ever since. I kinda hope - for our sanity - that Five's mellowness translates as well.

STAY TUNED!!

Denial (and I don't mean a river in Egypt)

19.5 weeks, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

About 15 weeks ago I was standing over the kitchen sink for the fifth morning in a row gagging as I washed out Sawyer's sippy cup. I hadn't gotten much sleep that previous night because I'd been up four or five times, running to the bathroom to pee. Denial is a powerful force.

It was several more days before I found myself counting weeks backwards to my last visit from Aunt Flo. Dear old faithful had returned for the first time in 18 months during my vacation to California at the end of March. Several weeks later we celebrated my 33rd birthday and all Scott gave me was a homemade birthday card ("Happy Birthday" jotted down on graph paper with a ball point pen). Our celebration later that evening was just as much of an afterthought.

So there I was, at the beginning of May, calendar in hand and a churning feeling in the pit of my stomach sharing with Scott my most recent calculations. "You don't know how to count," he said. "You don't pay attention to dates." Yes, denial is a powerful force.

I drove 45 minutes to the nearest Wal-Mart to avoid running into anyone I know and bought the test. I figured I'd wait a few more days to actually take it. Scott - the nonbeliever - couldn't even let me finish my lunch. I didn't look at it. I handed it to him. Sure enough, the plus sign was glowing like neon in Vegas.

Denial is one thing, acceptance is another. While we've always said we wanted children close together, this was a bit sooner than we had in mind. Amnesia hadn't set in yet. I could vividly recall those last, uncomfortable months of pregnancy, the details of labor and the days that followed, those first sleepless weeks and months with a newborn. And, dammit, I had just started drinking wine again!

I faked our first ultrasound, (to steal a line from Sex and the City). I plastered on a Cheshire cat smile as Dr. Stout pointed out the baby's head, slug shaped body and heartbeat. The same strained smile got me through the first round of 'congratulations' from friends and coworkers four weeks later.

Now, almost 20 weeks into the pregnancy, I can feel the familiar flutter of the baby stirring inside. I've finally regained my energy, and I've stopped gagging over the sink every morning. I've begun to embrace the benefits of having our children this close together, and I'm even looking forward to our next ultrasound and finding out the sex.

There's no denying that the next two years are going to be a doozy. And I'm in no rush for January 8. I just want to enjoy a few more relatively peaceful months of doting on Sawyer's every little accomplishment. (see Baby Einstein).

Baby Einstein

cups, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

So, yes, you have all heard by now that Baby Einstein videos actually make kids dumb. Personally, I couldn't have survived the first six months of motherhood without 'Baby Bach.' 'Baby Mozart' got me through countless showers, packing up the house and moving, and I credit 'Baby's First Moves' for teaching Sawyer to clap, dance and touch his nose. I only regret that it wasn't my idea - let's play with a bunch of baby toys, put it to music and make a video! These people had clearly been to their fair share of Phish shows, if you know what I mean. And now they're millionaires. But, you've really got to hand it to the brilliant woman who came up with the study. You mean, sitting my son in front of a Baby Einstein video all day isn't actually going to make him MORE intelligent?

So speaking of brilliant, yesterday I had one of those 'my son's a genius' moments that only a mother can have. Sawyer was playing with his stacking cups, carrying them all over the house (basically his favorite pastime - how many toys can I carry at one time). I decided to make the game more constructive. "Sawyer, why don't you put the cups into your car and push them around." (His ride-on car has a flip up seat). I wasn't sure whether Sawyer understood the words 'car' or 'cup,' or the concept of putting one object into another, for that matter, but (as I continued to lay on the couch) he walked across the room, lifted the car's seat, and methodically began carrying the stacking cups across the room one by one and putting them in the car. When he was done, he pushed the car around for a while then, when he reached some invisible destination, he stopped and unloaded the cups one by one onto a blanket where, I assume, they were going to sleep. I was just getting ready to pick up the phone to call my mom and tell her what a genius her grandson is when Sawyer picked up the blanket, scattering the cups everywhere, put it over his head and began walking around the room crashing into things he couldn't see.

I put the phone back down. Maybe I should rethink those videos after all.

Brothers

Brothers, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

This photo here may say it all. Justin leaves tomorrow after what felt like a VERY fast summer to get ready for school, which begins August 27. In the meantime, he will be making a quick trip to Wisconsin to visit his maternal grandfather and he will be celebrating his 10th birthday at a Padres game with his friends.

We celebrated his last week with our annual trip to the beach. At his request, we went to a "new" beach this year, leaving behind our beloved Outer Banks. We accepted the invitation of a couple we met on our honeymoon in Costa Rica, of all places, to stay with them at their house in Margate, NJ, a mere four blocks from the Atlantic Ocean. And while we have only seen the Tovskys once since our post-nuptial galavanting, we have been in constant touch through email. They, fortuitously, have twin boys who were born only two weeks before Sawyer. Seeing them was like seeing old friends from high school - as if a day hadn't passed. The boys had a blast playing together and Sawyer turned out to be a real beach bum (maybe that has something to do with the fact that the last time we took him to the beach he was two weeks old).

And in case you were wondering what, exactly, is required to sustain three babies, plus one in utero, four adults, and one eager 9-year-old boy on the beach each day, I'll tell you: One double jogging stroller, one umbrella stroller, two beach umbrellas and screw-in stands, one small plastic swimming pool, five folding chairs, two large beach mats, eight towels, seven plastic buckets, twelve plastic shovels and rakes, seventeen miscellaneous plastic beach toys, two boogie boards, one surfboard, two beach bags stuffed with sunscreen and diapers, one cooler full of food and sippy cups for the babies, one cooler full of beer and soda for the adults, and one cell phone to call for delivery sub sandwiches - yes, they bring them to the beach.

And in case you were wondering how long it takes to pack up said gear and people when an unexpected lightening storm blows through the answer is: about 10 minutes.

Two beach tips for parents: baby powder takes off the sand and, unless you own a Bugaboo, PULL THE STROLLER BACKWARDS on two wheels.

On our way to NJ we stopped in Rehoboth, DE and visited an actual high school friend, Sean, and his wife, Melanie, who live in Puerto Rico but are visiting family up here for a month. We were treated to one of the best crab feasts I have ever been to and my only regret is not taking a picture of these crabs, which were as big as my forearm. Hard as we tried, we couldn't finish off the last half bushel.

And now, for the sad part. I can't say how much we will miss Justin. Especially his little brother who won't understand where his new best friend has gone. Mealtime won't be the same without Justin's funny faces making Sawyer laugh out loud. Justin can always be relied upon to watch Sawyer when I need to get something done, to play with him and entertain him, and to teach him new tricks - like how to blow spit bubbles - in the back of the car. I never realized how having Sawyer would make having Justin gone so much harder.

saw and ma, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Surfs Up, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Summertime

(Photo removed because too many people were looking at it. Started to wig me out).

Every day we are reminded that Justin is entering his 'tweens' - that awkward stage between being a child and being a teenager. He turns 10 next month, and his interests are shifting away from action figures and cartoons and towards things like Ipods, girls and teen magazines with pullout posters of Justin Timberlake and Chris Rock. Style is suddenly very important to him and he covets his brand-name clothing (Volcum, Hurley, Billabong etc.) He's grown his hair long and shaggy like a lot of the young kids are wearing it these days - very reminiscent of the 1970s. Scott is constantly pushing it to the side so we can see his eyes. From the eyerolls, shoulder slumps and sighs we sometimes get when we ask him to do something to the chicken he hides in his napkin at dinner time, it's clear that this kid is developing a will of his own and beginning to test the boundaries. It's all a normal part of growing up and becoming his own person, although it reminds all too often that those teenage years are looming right around the corner. The other clear sign that times are a changing are the number of girls that swoon over Justin. I still think he's oblivious when it comes to the girls' affections - especially toward the five and six year old girls who are so clearly lovestruck. But last night, when Lydia (a friend from camp and the granddaughter of one of my coworkers) asked him to ride the ferris wheel with her ALONE, he seemed eager. He even used his own tickets to pay her way. Her grandmother reported to me the next day that Lydia told him she liked him and that he rested his arm on the seat behind her. But when I look at this picture - Justin scrunched all up in the corner, Lydia looking SO uncomfortable with her arm across her lap, it reminds me that they are still just kids. Here's to holding onto youth and innocence as long as possible.

One.

sailor boy smiles, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Sawyer crossed the 365-days threshold Saturday. I couldn't resist the opportunity to dress him in this outfit, which Scott described as "dorky." Scott decorated a cake with sailboats on keel, breaking through the choppy water. He swirled blue icing in with the white and clear sparkles to give the water a realistic look. It was so cool. I never got weepy, but it was a strange feeling to stand at the mirror just before midnight Friday and think that at that very moment last year I was about to start pushing. I can't even remember who that girl was. Life before Sawyer seems to have dissipated into some faint outline of a memory. I remember being so excited to meet him. In the past year I've learned that my son is both shy and comical. He never ceased to amaze me with his sense of humor – something I never really possessed as a child. He must get that from his dad. But, like me, he is shy and looks like a deer caught in headlights whenever we are around new people or in a new place. He is sensitive and often burst into tears when we tell him 'no.' But othertimes he just agrees, shaking his head back and forth . . . no, no, no. He has an adventuresome spirit and loves to explore the house and the world outside. But, so far, is afraid of noisy toys and scrambles frantically up my chest and and over my shoulder when I push a noisy button. One thing we do know - he's a good eater. He can mack down two hot dogs, an entire bagel or a bowl full of pasta. I'm looking forward to getting to know him even better in the next year.

Uno, Dos . . . Tres

Sawyer and Jman announce . . ., originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

crabbing with grandma anne

crabbing with grandma anne, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Catching the quintessential Chesapeake Bay dinner.

Jellyman

Sawyer, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

Sawyer keeps a sharp eye out for 'sea nettles' as the locals call them. The rest of the world knows the pests as Jellyfish.

Now who's idea was that?

Now who's idea was that?, originally uploaded by Reid Pierce.

This beach sits just up the creek from our house. Scott - in a rare moment of weakness - allowed the kids to bury him. But they didn't have a shovel and we realized it was going to take all day. So Ernie jumped in to help. So helpful, no?

Parade

Parade, originally uploaded by write2reid.

It's so Americana.

Smile?

Smile?, originally uploaded by write2reid.

My little Patriot wasn't being very cooperative on the photo front yesterday. Like his dad - he squints in bright light. In fact, lately, unless he's covered in something slimy - spaghetti sauce, drool - he's just looking like a deer in headlights whenever I try to photograph him.

Spaghetti Night

Sometimes you've just got to let 'em go nuts. Look at those smiles. Makes it all worthwhile - even the massive hose-down afterwards. (Note: we removed Sawyers clothes and lined the floor with newspaper pre-feast).

Birthday Party Plannning

Okay - I'm trying to get my act together here. And I need some advice from people who've been to more first birthday parties than I have (grand total = 0). Do we open presents at the party? How long is long enough? Party favors: must have/don't bother? Any other advice from those who've been through it?

Stayin' Alive

It is quite possible that I am the only one that finds my son so hysterical. I videotaped Sawyer for 20 minutes yesterday while he walked around the house with a cup in his mouth, breathing heavily into it and alternating between playing the cup like a trumpet and shaking his head around like a stumpy elephant. Pretty much all you can hear on the video is my cackling. I'm not sure that, in retrospect, it was really all that funny. But, you have to give me this. Now that Sawyer is walking on his own, he holds his two fingers up in the air (as if he was still holding on to somebody). Toss in the but wobble and he looks like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Now that is funny, right?

Sawyer turned 11 months last Thursday. It's is my scary baby age, like 39 may be for someone nearing "the hill" or 64 for somebody about to qualify for social security. 11 months means that a year has almost gone by, leaving me in a dust cloud of should'ves and would'ves, scrapbook projects undone and family field trips not yet taken. My cuddly, snugly baby has morphed into a toddler who'd writhes and wriggles to free himself of my arms, preferring now to explore and discover the world on his own. The only thing I can truly say I am looking forward to about 12 months is saying farewell to formula and rear-facing car seats.


With the count down to one year in progress, here are 11 things we have learned about Sawyer:
1. He'd rather be naked.
2. He may still be bald in preschool.
3 We think he's going to be left-handed.
4. When he's happy and he knows it he claps his hands.
5. He prefers bread to any other food-related product.
6. He prefers paper to bread.
7. He may be a vampire. He's growing pointy fangs which he likes to sink into the soft and tender skin on people's necks.
8. He can walk but prefers to crawl sideways like a crab.
9. His first real word, other than 'dada', was truck. But he could be saying duck. Which would make sense when he hurls the truck in my direction. Other words he's working on: Hi. Justin (Ja Ja). What's That? (Whasss-aa). Dog.
10. He has a truly frightening passion for his Nuk. And.
11. He understands, literally, the concept of: 'If you pat my back I'll pat yours."