Life in bullets

well, we still don't have our camera fixed. So bullets it is.

* Ambrose can now escape from the BOB (our wonderful stroller) if not buckled in. He flips onto his belly and slides out underneath the snack tray and is standing before I can even put down the breaks. Yes I am aware there are seat belts, however, buckling this kid in is like wrestling with a snake, and I'm sweaty before I even head outside. I obviously have no choice and have started fighting that fight, but ugh.

* We have put our fair share of miles on the BOB in the past month. For sanity saving purposes, we drove one car out here and said car goes with John to work, so stepping in as a pinch hitter for the Tundra is BOB, the stroller. So, if Ambrose and I want to get out of the apartment, and believe me we do, we load up into the stroller and walk. Great for the thighs and butt, not so great for hair and face.

* Beach living suits us great, apartment living, not so much!

* Ambrose is OBSESSED with light switches. Every time you enter or leave a room he dives head first out of our arms into the wall in attempt to get to the light switches.

* Ambrose is thinning out. His pants, for the first time in his life, are loose! The kid can actually exhale without pain.

* Heat+humidity=mosquito city.

* Ambrose is unbelievably fun lately, I know I say this all the time, but oh my gosh life with this kid is amazing. It pains John to leave every morning, and we spend the first few minutes in bed at night talking about how just totally awesome this age is.

goings on

Ambrose fall a lot, and I mean A LOT! This poor child is sporting three bruises, and two cuts, just on his face, and that happened it ONE day. He could win awards for the style and technique he uses when going for wipe outs.

I have quit sweeping floors with this child around. The kid sees the broom, comes running, and does this weird stomping jig right in the middle of the dirt pile, once the mess is scattered around the room again, he walks away (not before checking the rubble to ensure that there was no stray cheerios or pieces of lunch).

The terrible two's have come twelve months early around this house. The tantrums we're experiencing over here are again, of award winning caliber. He usually starts by arching his back and batting at my face, when I go to put him on the floor, he shrinks his legs up (because how dare you put me down as I try and assault you!) and does one of two things, 1) stands back up, runs face first into the couch and dissolves into a puddle of tempertantruming tears or 2) skips the couch face plant gets right to the (literally) kicking screaming fit on the floor. Lucky for me this hasn't happened outside of our apartment, but my family has been privilege to it on Skype. Lucky them.

Currently, the computer battery or computer charger (both of which are less than 8 months old), isn't working right, which means our internet time is scarce. To go along with the bad technology luck, the camera is broken as well, which is a total bummer because Ambrose looked adorable in his Easter outfit.

Ambrose gets a little stir crazy in our apartment and find all sorts of things to get into to entertain himself. His recent form of entertainment is launching things off of our third floor balcony. Not only is it hard on toys (or anything else he can get his hands on), it scares the heck out of me because under the balcony is a pool deck filled with tons (thanks to spring break) of people. I can only imagine that being hit square between the eyes, by a wooden puzzle piece while sun bathing may not be quite what anyone is looking for on their spring break.

Beach

Despite being in the thick of an insane-o bout of crabbiness with our little boy, we're loving life on the beach.


Having said that, getting to the beach is not the simple task it once was. Case in point....

Are we there yet?

We survived, it was a little dicey at times, but we made it. Our 1550 road trip wasn't nearly as nightmarish as I had prepared for, and at the end of it, our sanity was still in tact.

There was a little of this (in the first 100 miles anyway).
A little of this (what's a good road trip without eating your weight in fruit snacks, cheerios and cheese).

Some of this.Not near enough of this

And far more than I'd like to admit of this....

And of course what's a road trip without a few (ok 2, the rest were Mc Donalds play areas) memorable stops.

John introduced him to his first Bass Pro, and due to his (and his parents) poor choice in clothing that day, he fit in quite well.

We did take breaks from Mc. Donalds play areas, where you'd think we'd be leaving the artery clogging food behind, but you'd be oh so wrong, because we hit up the Cracker Barrel.

And of course, what would be a road trip without "are we there yet."

This however, made it all worth it.

Dear birthday boy,

An entire year has passed since we first saw your face. We loved you from the moment we saw you, but struggled through all that comes with being new parents. There is no steeper learning curve than the one that comes with parenting, but as time went on, we did fall into a rhythm, and those bleak new born days faded quickly. Since then, time has passed at an unfair speed.

At a year you are still so inquisitive and pair that with mobility, you're down right dangerous. Rather than studying something from a far you are on the move, going as fast as those chubby thighs will take you, in the direction of whatever grabs your attention. You started taking steps at the eleven month mark, now walking just isn't enough, climbing is more your style. Once you realised you could climb the stairs ( at 9 months) you utilised that newly found info and attempted to climb anything and everything. If you can't hoist your little legs up there on your own, I've found you using your Fisher Price toolbox, couch cushion, or suit case to give you that extra inch or two to get to your desired location. You say mama, dada and all done. You have a bag of tricks we've taught you, and you rarely do them on command. You have a will of steel, and I've already started reading as many "child rearing" books as I can get my hands on.

You have lived in 3 (4 if count our 2 month stint in SD) houses, 2 states (or 3), and 2 countries. You've been on 5 flights (If I count each leg of the flight, which I totally do because the fact that each of us come out sane and alive is a total accomplishment,you've been on 18), whew, maybe you're a little more resilient and flexible than I give you credit for.

Even at 1, you are an independent little guy. You have zero desire (and usually refuse) to hold my hand while you walk around (even if refusing my hand means falling, you'll take the fall thankyouverymuch). You'll play independently for ages, especially if you're outside. You love your Radio flyer wagons, and are constantly stopping to pick up every rock in the area. You still love dogs and will light up every time we see one. You seem to find every puddle and pile of dirt and love getting messy.

Each day you shed a little more of your baby"ness" and become a little boy. While this saddens me in some ways, I can only look forward to the upcoming years with pure joy and anticipation because son, with you, each day is better than the last.

When I need a laugh...

I just let him try carbonated water. I kid, I kid, but it does make me laugh every time!

Climbing's where it's at.

I walked into the office the other day and found this...

I couldn't figure out how he'd even gotten up there, but when I took him down, he showed me exactly how he got up there.