Reagan's birthday was yesterday and we celebrated in grand style. We've never given her sweets before so her cupcake was an unexpected, THRILLING treat for her. She kept signing "more, more, more."
Please go to our Flickr account to see all the fun for yourself!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/tags/reagans1stbirthday/
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Bathing Beauty and Party Girl
We've uploaded a few pics on Flickr! Just wanted to share. My mom freaks out if we don't upload to Flickr every 20 minutes or so. This is an effort to appease Nai Nai!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Not Until You've Walked a Mile in Her Purse...
I have always carried a small purse and I use the pockets in a very efficient, organized manner. Each item has a home where it returns without exception. There is no tossing in of chap stick or breath mints. I don't wad up useless bits of trash and deposit them in a bag I then carry around on my person. Nope.
And I admit I judge people who do this. I watch them open their ginormous bags and dump goodness knows what into the black hole within. Later they can't find their keys or their checkbook and I smugly think, "Well, if you would organize your purse, ladies, this would not be a problem."
Fast forward to this last week. Reagan and I did some heavy errand-running on our own. Now we've gone here and there before but never really place after place with no rest in between. I'm at the Post Office, baby balancing precariously on the counter while I make a valiant attempt at a legible signature on my credit card receipt. Both hands are full as I scurry out of the next customer's way and what do I do? Drop my copy of the receipt and the stamps right into my purse with complete disregard as to where they land.
Wal-Mart Parking lot. Reagan's shoe flies off in some unexplainable attempt at acrobatics and I find it on the ground, pick it up and throw it in my purse so we can keep on moving. Did you read that sentence and really let it soak in? Lisa picked up something FROM THE GROUND (and a parking lot, no less, not clean, natural grass) and then placed it purposely in her bag.
This madness continues all over town.
Admittedly, I can't stand it for long. I come home and immediately clean out my purse because that's just who I am, but on the go, I'm a handbag maniac. I justify this entire exercise in chaos because it's either this or lose my mind deciding which pocket a baby shoe, lip gloss and a hubba can reside in happily.
And I admit I judge people who do this. I watch them open their ginormous bags and dump goodness knows what into the black hole within. Later they can't find their keys or their checkbook and I smugly think, "Well, if you would organize your purse, ladies, this would not be a problem."
Fast forward to this last week. Reagan and I did some heavy errand-running on our own. Now we've gone here and there before but never really place after place with no rest in between. I'm at the Post Office, baby balancing precariously on the counter while I make a valiant attempt at a legible signature on my credit card receipt. Both hands are full as I scurry out of the next customer's way and what do I do? Drop my copy of the receipt and the stamps right into my purse with complete disregard as to where they land.
Wal-Mart Parking lot. Reagan's shoe flies off in some unexplainable attempt at acrobatics and I find it on the ground, pick it up and throw it in my purse so we can keep on moving. Did you read that sentence and really let it soak in? Lisa picked up something FROM THE GROUND (and a parking lot, no less, not clean, natural grass) and then placed it purposely in her bag.
This madness continues all over town.
Admittedly, I can't stand it for long. I come home and immediately clean out my purse because that's just who I am, but on the go, I'm a handbag maniac. I justify this entire exercise in chaos because it's either this or lose my mind deciding which pocket a baby shoe, lip gloss and a hubba can reside in happily.
100 Good Wishes Indeed...
As if our friends and family had not blessed us enough, tonight they surprised us with the best gift yet...our 100 Good Wishes quilt. At least two years ago, I jokingly told Leanna and Shannon that they needed to make Reagan a quilt when we got her. I explained the Chinese tradition, said I'd gather the squares and everything but let's face it, I shouldn't be anywhere near a sewing machine or even a needle, for that matter, so they had to do the actual quilting. We've mentioned it a couple times since but in truth, I gave up on the idea because I was so caught up in other adoption and house-related tasks.
They did NOT forget or give up, however and I'm eternally grateful. This quilt is fantastic and each square means so much to us. I can not believe how many of you took time from your lives to send in a square and a wish for Reagan. You have richly blessed us for so many years and this is the icing on the cake. This is one of those items I'll carry downstairs with me when the tornado sirens go off. It's a treasure. Thank you.
Angie, I get it now. ;)
They did NOT forget or give up, however and I'm eternally grateful. This quilt is fantastic and each square means so much to us. I can not believe how many of you took time from your lives to send in a square and a wish for Reagan. You have richly blessed us for so many years and this is the icing on the cake. This is one of those items I'll carry downstairs with me when the tornado sirens go off. It's a treasure. Thank you.
Angie, I get it now. ;)
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Time Flies When You're Covered in Baby Goo...
So today we've had Reagan for one month. I was thinking about that tonight, getting all misty-eyed at the way our baby has grown and changed already. Thinking this is probably the last time she'll wear the purple pjs with the yellow flowers on the leg. She's so big now. She'll be a year old in a few weeks. Gulp.
And I was also thinking about us and what we've gone through in the last four weeks and mostly it comes down to goo. Pre-Reagan our goo exposure was limited. Sure other people's kids spit up on us now and then. We've seen explosive diapers and dealt with one or two of them. We're not total novices. However, when you are with a baby constantly, you're bound to be splashed in one form of goo or another on pretty much a daily basis. I have a hilarious story which my Mom says is a bit crude for the blog but when we meet in person, ask me about Reagan's hair goo, a creation of her own making.
Today we've survived a month of ick the likes of which we'd never seen before. And the crazy thing about it is that we've signed on for more. This is our world, goo and all and we just couldn't be more pleased.
And I was also thinking about us and what we've gone through in the last four weeks and mostly it comes down to goo. Pre-Reagan our goo exposure was limited. Sure other people's kids spit up on us now and then. We've seen explosive diapers and dealt with one or two of them. We're not total novices. However, when you are with a baby constantly, you're bound to be splashed in one form of goo or another on pretty much a daily basis. I have a hilarious story which my Mom says is a bit crude for the blog but when we meet in person, ask me about Reagan's hair goo, a creation of her own making.
Today we've survived a month of ick the likes of which we'd never seen before. And the crazy thing about it is that we've signed on for more. This is our world, goo and all and we just couldn't be more pleased.
And the Winners Are...
A few weeks ago when we got back I posed a question concerning window shades and take off. We've had two answers submitted. One of them was a complete lie but it sounded good so one of Reagan's stuffed animals (I'm leaning toward a dog formerly known as Roscoe) will henceforth be Christopher.
In first place with an answer that I believe is actually the truth, is a man named Todd who apparently works with my Dad. I'm putting his answer here so the mystery will be solved and all you good people will rest easy. What's interesting to me is that the flight attendants do NOT mention the real reason for our window shade placement. They don't come out and say, "If this puppy crashes, we need the natural light to identify bodies." No. They instead use the very elusive but politically correct "help the captain" phrase I mentioned previously.
So we've discovered the truth with help from Todd who is going to have a pink tiger named in his honor. Thank you and congratulations!
Answer:
If the shades are open, passengers can keep track of which way is up during an emergency. Windows are also a source of light if the cabin goes dark. The crew dims the lights during takeoff so, if the plane loses power, your eyes won’t have a hard time adjusting to the dark.
In first place with an answer that I believe is actually the truth, is a man named Todd who apparently works with my Dad. I'm putting his answer here so the mystery will be solved and all you good people will rest easy. What's interesting to me is that the flight attendants do NOT mention the real reason for our window shade placement. They don't come out and say, "If this puppy crashes, we need the natural light to identify bodies." No. They instead use the very elusive but politically correct "help the captain" phrase I mentioned previously.
So we've discovered the truth with help from Todd who is going to have a pink tiger named in his honor. Thank you and congratulations!
Answer:
If the shades are open, passengers can keep track of which way is up during an emergency. Windows are also a source of light if the cabin goes dark. The crew dims the lights during takeoff so, if the plane loses power, your eyes won’t have a hard time adjusting to the dark.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
We Can't Help Ourselves...
We put more pictures on Flickr tonight. It's a sickness. We can't stop taking photos of this precious child. Humor us and go look at them, would you?
http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/tags/reagan/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/84389878@N00/tags/reagan/
Friday, August 3, 2007
Reagan and Our Other Daughters...
Reagan is our first human daughter but she's not our first child by a long shot. Psalms arrived eight years ago and Autumn, seven years ago. They are spoiled, fat and very, very stubborn kitty cats who we adore.
Psalms talks pretty much constantly (she takes after Danny) and Autumn is shy, loving and willing to take Psalms' abuse.
They think Reagan is a loud rodent of some kind, I'm sure of it. Psalms crouches on our bed with her paws over her ears (literally) and squeezes her eyes shut when Reagan cries. Autumn backs away from Reagan the instant we come out on the front porch. Actually she does a little dance. Autumn wants to come see me, her mom, her protector and friend so she runs toward us and then she spots Reagan. She's torn. She hovers just out of Reagan's reach (and thus out of mine) and cries at me to pet her, all the while eyeballing Reagan like something unwanted stuck to her tail.
Reagan thinks they are the most fantastic thing since Cheerios (and that's saying a lot, you should see this kid eat Cheerios). She crawls after Psalms whenever she can. She bounces and squeals when she sees or even hears one of them meow. She makes the "k" sound and points when they come around because we're trying to teach her to say kitty and "k" is as far as she goes.
Ultimately I think this will all work out. The girls are teenagers now and spend lots of time dragging Main with their friends and even when they're home they're so busy painting their toenails and IMing boys that mostly they ignore Reagan. She idolizes them, however, as any younger sibling does. I'm not too worried about it. All babies lick themselves and eat from a bowl on the floor, right?
Psalms talks pretty much constantly (she takes after Danny) and Autumn is shy, loving and willing to take Psalms' abuse.
They think Reagan is a loud rodent of some kind, I'm sure of it. Psalms crouches on our bed with her paws over her ears (literally) and squeezes her eyes shut when Reagan cries. Autumn backs away from Reagan the instant we come out on the front porch. Actually she does a little dance. Autumn wants to come see me, her mom, her protector and friend so she runs toward us and then she spots Reagan. She's torn. She hovers just out of Reagan's reach (and thus out of mine) and cries at me to pet her, all the while eyeballing Reagan like something unwanted stuck to her tail.
Reagan thinks they are the most fantastic thing since Cheerios (and that's saying a lot, you should see this kid eat Cheerios). She crawls after Psalms whenever she can. She bounces and squeals when she sees or even hears one of them meow. She makes the "k" sound and points when they come around because we're trying to teach her to say kitty and "k" is as far as she goes.
Ultimately I think this will all work out. The girls are teenagers now and spend lots of time dragging Main with their friends and even when they're home they're so busy painting their toenails and IMing boys that mostly they ignore Reagan. She idolizes them, however, as any younger sibling does. I'm not too worried about it. All babies lick themselves and eat from a bowl on the floor, right?
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Confession
I miss Reagan when she sleeps. Isn't that stupid? I mean, the kid WEARS ME OUT all day long. She's curious about everything, she terrorizes the cats, she eats like a linebacker and she wants me to play, play, play. And she still doesn't have true appreciation for cleanliness.
Yet right now she's sleeping and I miss her. I miss how soft her face is, so smooth and without a single blemish. I miss her hot, formula breath on my face when she gives me an open-mouth kiss. I miss her scrunchy smile as we've come to call it.
I think I'll go look at her one more time.
Good night.
Yet right now she's sleeping and I miss her. I miss how soft her face is, so smooth and without a single blemish. I miss her hot, formula breath on my face when she gives me an open-mouth kiss. I miss her scrunchy smile as we've come to call it.
I think I'll go look at her one more time.
Good night.
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