Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Big Boy School is for Big Boys

Monday marked the 4 week mark of Coop's stint in Big Boy School. 4 weeks of CRYING, CRYING, CRYING. All. day. long. His little paper always says "What I ate today: NA" and "Nap Time Today: NA". 4 weeks, 3 teachers (red flag) , 2 directors (double red flag), and 1 crazy, loony mama bird over here. Every morning when I drop him off he SCREAMS. He chases me out of the classroom and I whisper prayers that he will love his class and his nonexistent-consistent teacher and the blocks and the cars and the spaghetti oh's and the slide out in the play yard. Every day I drive to work with my mind just a-racing. Every day I call at noon to check on my sweet Super Coop. Every day the girl answers the phone and tells me that he is still screaming.

Yesterday when I called to check on him and the girl told me he was still screaming, something inside of me snapped. I left work early (again), zoomed up there, and watched the closed circuit video feed of him to see what in the world was ruffling his little feathers. I watched (alone in the lobby) for 20 minutes as he sat alone in the corner, with his blankie and pappy, just a boo hooing. I asked to speak to the director and was informed that she quit 2 weeks ago. Hello? Is this not a "cute little note taped to the cubby" type of thing in the world of daycare?? I walked down to his classroom to scoop him up and take him home and was told that his teacher had also quit. Again.




I asked the pseudo-director to pull the video feed from the day so I could see for myself, why he is having such a hard time adjusting. She said no.

I asked again.

She said no.

We peeled out on 2 wheels and have not looked back. Sigh. Big Boy School=Total Fail. At least the hand print spider craft was cute.

Being a working mom comes with its very own sweet set of challenges. I wouldn't change it for the world--well ok, maybe I sometimes dream about working two days per week, but I digress. It's hard y'all. Question...what do you do? In-home? Nanny-share? 1:1? Daycare? Advice needed. Before 8am on Thursday, preferably. *Blush* [End Irrational Mommy Banter]

Tuesday, June 21, 2011


Super Coop and his Dada are the best of buds. Two peas in a pod. Silly. Gooses. Love them both to pieces.
Chris can make Coop giggle without saying a word. He gives the best monster bath in all the world. He takes his sweet time when he rocks him to sleep at night, and my favorite part of the day is secretly listening to the two of them over the monitor. He can get Coop to eat anything. Anything. I can't even get him to eat a peanut butter-n-jelly sandwich.
When Dada cuts the grass, Coop stands at the window and watches his every move.

He always gets the last bite of Dada's dessert. And the first.

When Chris is on the road, Coop plays with his Little People Airplane, yelling "DADADADADA". Melts my heart.
Father's Day 2010
Father's Day 2011
We love you Dada!

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Zoo Pals

It's been some kinda week folks. Yes, I totally and completely realize it's only Wednesday :)

I am most thankful for my stay-at-home mommy day that rolls around every Wednesday. It's like a breath of fresh air right smack in the middle of the week. Coop and I get to stay in our pjs until shamefully late, have lunchdates and playdates, take TLC naps, and splash at the pool.

We got some unexpected news on Friday. It's ok though because again, our God is bigger than any tough news we will ever receive. Right in the middle of our not-so-great news, I landed myself in the ER at Northside. Totally unrelated and totally equally not-so-great. It's just been a roll up your sleeves (and crawl into bed) kind of week.

Chris is the best best best hubby in all the world. He is a super dad/super husband extraordinaire. He takes the best care of me and Coop. He did the grocery shopping this week, wheeled Coop around the lobby of the hospital with animal crackers and fruit punch at 10 o'clock at night, picked him up from school early two days in a row in order to rescue him from the doom of preschool adjustment, and hasn't uttered a single complaint about any of it.

In other news, we've been battling a certain little 13 month old as he has mastered the art of food-slinging. Man, he is good. Drives us bonkers. Nutsos. Fling. Fling.

He's got the casual-over-the-shoulder drop, when he thinks no one's watching. He's got the wind-up-and-let 'em-have-it catapult that lands food in the living room. And in the foyer. He's got the let-me-give-mama-a-bite-fake-out that allows him to plop food right on my lap. But this one only happens when I am wearing white or khaki. He's good, I tell you.

Today, he met his match.

Hefty's Zoo Pals Plates. Oh, Coop. Mama got you on this one.

He LOVES his Zoo Pal plates so very very much that he won't DARE fling his plate. Or sling his food. He sits and eats his dinner like a good boy, admiring his frog or his dog or his hog. Bite by bite he gobbles his food up, cheese-ballin it as I praise him and sing him songs like "Our food goes in our mouth, our food goes in our mouth, hi ho the dairio our food goes in our mouth."

Love these plates so much that I even stuck a pack in the diaper bag. No more plastic table cover at Chick-fil-a for us. It's Zoo Pals all the way.

As a speech therapist, I get oober excited about the language stimulation wrapped up within these little beauties. We sit and make animal noises, point to the doggie/froggie/hoggie's nose, talk about where the doggie/froggie/hoggie lives and so on and so on. A product that helps control the goo on our hardwoods AND promotes language development? Get out of town.

My hat's off to you super-geniuses over at Hefty. Thankyouveryverymuch!

Saturday, June 11, 2011

Super Coop

This picture makes my heart skip a beat. It was taken right before Super Coop grabbed his briefcase and his pappy and headed off for a hard day at the office. I love his chunky monkey thighs. And his mischievous grin. And how he tucks his arms up under his cape so no one can tickle him. He's got work to do and can't be bothered with silly games like peek-a-boo and pat-a-cake. I want to freeze this very moment. Savor it for a while. Hold on to it until I am ready for him to outgrow more of his clothes and run away from me and drag his feet a little lower when I rock him to sleep at night.

He started big boy school this week.

And went on his first boat ride.
And ate a rock, some sand, and some teddy grahams.
Oh how we love him. How we constantly thank God for being so good and gracious and giving him to us. How he keeps us laughing. And running. And playing.

"I sing for joy at the work of Your hands". -Psalm 92:4

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Brown Baggin' It

I typically eat lunch out every day at work. Every. Single. Day. Shameless. I know. It's horrible.

I tell myself that it's my reward for working. I deserve it. I need it. It's my only hobby. I need fresh air. Chick-fil-a might risk closing their doors it it weren't for me.

Besides, I am brown-baggin-it impaired. When I attempt to pack my lunch, I end up with a Twinkie, a Cherry Coke, and a baggie of mini Goldfish crackers. So truly, Chick-fil-a's value meal #1 is a step in the right direction. It has to be.

I've made a pact with myself (and my pre-Cooper-khaki pants) to pack my lunch at least 2 out of 4 days. Baby steps.

Today I used my nifty little Ziploc brand sectioned lunch tote and brought my own little lunch. A BBQ sandwich (leftovers) and some pasta salad. I ate it in 7 minutes. We get 60.

I spent the remaining 53 minutes in Gymboree.

I think it was cheaper to eat lunch out ;)

Did I mention that our new center is located in the Avenues shopping center. Trouble? I think so. Oh how I love you, Children's Healthcare of Atlanta. Whoever made the executive decision to position us between the Loft, Charming Charlies, and Gymboree is an absolute mastermind. CHOA, you have my heart!
Pre-Super Coop Hope and Will fun. We marched 9 miles (ok, maybe just 2) uphill in a parade, wearing polyester. Chris failed to read the "Hope and Will Behavior Contract" and went around fist pumping and poundin' it with the kids. Priceless. Precious memories... 

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Lessons Learned

This year we have learned:

1. How to pray.
2. How to praise.
3. How to shave a head bald and how to shave a bald head.
4. What a port is. And how to insure onset of a Staph Infection when going swimming post-surgical insertion.
5. How many people we love and how many people love us.
6. Why God brings us to our knees.
7. How to keep a baby quiet in an oncology office.
8. What it means to have faith as small as a mustard seed.
9. How important the double flush rule can be.
10. How to let go and how to hold on.

We cannot thank you enough for the outpouring of love you have given our little family over the past 365 days. You kept us going. Kept us laughing. Kept us strong. Kept us drinking sweet tea (oh the gallons that were left on our front porch!). Kept us remembering what a mighty God we serve.

Thank you, thank you, thank you from the very bottom of our hearts.

Wednesday, June 1, 2011


I am absolutely heartbroken. I lost a very very very special little friend today. I am on my knees praying for her precious family.

I imagine that she playing with the angels right about now. If I had to guess, she's probably playing Pretty Pretty Princess. She's winning. And she's tickled pink that she doesn't have to practice her words between each turn.

She's chewing bubble gum and eating ice cream.

Please help me lift up her mama, daddy, and big sister in prayer. Her mom taught me something I will never ever ever forget. When she got the toughest news a mom could possibly receive, she told me with grace "You can choose to worry or you can choose to pray. What you cannot do, is both". Her words have resounded in my soul since the day she spoke them.

We serve a mighty God. He hears our cries and draws near to us in our time of need.

Love you sweet girl-