Baby's 1st Christmas

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, and Andrew settled down for his first cut of hair... Andrew had his first Christmas, and what a whirlwind it was!

In the span of the past week and a half, Andrew has hit lots of milestones and had tons of fun. Sometimes he had a little too much fun, and that made for interesting exits from places, but all-in-all, he was a trooper!

Here are the highlights!

1. Andrew's first haircut: Andrew, although fully able to rock the baby mullet, said goodbye to his shaggy do and opted for a cleaner cut. I thought that I could cut his hair and after one clumsy clip, I called Grandma Mary to finish the job. Andrew watched the Elmo Song on Youtube about 20 times to help him stay still, and Grandma gave him a sweet style. Once Grandma left, I cried because he now looks like a little boy and not my tiny baby. In a BRIEF moment of weakness, I thought, "I need another one because Andrew is growing up so fast"... Let me reiterate it was a BRIEF moment. We are just fine with one. Anyway, Daddy was the photographer, so he snapped all of 1 picture of the entire event. You'll see the new hair in action in the Christmas pictures.

2. He started work on a molar. Two words: awe some. This bad boy tooth is taking FOREVER! Poor Andrew doesn't know what to do; however, he has mastered the full blown tantrum with legs and arms flailing and head rearing back. Aww, my little man is growing up. I have no pictures of this, but there will be showings nightly from 5-8 pm... and sometimes an encore between 1-4am. Yay, us.

3. Andrew's first Christmas Eve at Great Grandpa Gesino's house: We arrived at 6:30 for dinner and presents and tons of babies! My cousins all had their little ones, so the kids 5 and under were under foot no matter where you turned. Here's the rundown: Andrew- 10.5 months, Wyatt- 1 month, Ellie 2 months, Chelsea's son- 7.5 months (oops I forget his name, but he's so cute), BLT, the triplets- 18 months (each), Taylor- 3 years, Macy-2 years, and Jackson - 5 years. All the babies checked each other out and took turns burping and making diapers.... It was the perfect Christmas celebration. What about presents, you ask? As soon as the wrapping started being pulled from the presents, he flipped out. Apparently, Andrew is the only baby who doesn't enjoy playing with the wrapping. We went home, and he got to open them in the morning.

More to come...

:)

Anne

O' Toilet Bowl, O' Toilet Bowl

O' Toilet Bowl

(sung to the tune of O' Christmas Tree)

O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,

How shinning is your porcelain.

O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,

I'd like to scale your basin.

Each day I fight to sneak a peak,

You're there so my 'rents can take a leak.

O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,
How shiny is your porcelain.
O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,
I'd like to scale your basin.

Right next to you is toilet paper,

It adds some fun to my bathroom caper.

O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,

How shinning is your porcelain.

O toilet bowl, o toilet bowl,

I'd like to scale your basin.

The only time I give you a snub,

Is when I see the giant bath tub.

Here are some fantastic toilet/bathroom moments.... Enjoy! Also, he does stick his hand in, but luckily he never reaches the water... or at least that's what I told myself. From now on, lids down ladies and gents.

:)

~Anne

'Tis the season to take pictures...

Would you like to send out one of those heart-warming family pictures to send out with your Christmas card? I sure would! I love getting those pictures, so I dress Andrew in his finest red pajamas and Christmas bib. He's picture perfect anyway, so this shoudl be fun and easy. Right? WRONG. Thank goodness for digital cameras, and being able to take COUNTLESS pictures that you can preview before printing (although we still printed a bunch to be sure).

Anyway, after approximately 30 charming pictures of Andrew and/or Lady in front of the freshly decorated tree, we gave up. Some of them weren't so bad; however, the crazy eyes and evil grins just didn't do our sweet babies justice. Maybe a Christmas photo is a pipedream? No! We can't give up this easily. Now, who's the poor schmuck that gets the honor of being our Christmas photgrapher? Grandma and Grandpa... haha Shacklett suckers!

So, here's the winner and a couple of close seconds.

Happy holidays!

:)

Anne

This Time Last Year

At this time last year, I was 7 months pregnant. On the right, is December 8th at a shower. I still had cheek bones and ankles.
























By December 15ththings started to "pop" as they say, and I was extremely fun to be around. I think it had to with my legs looking like tree trunks, hormones surging through my body, and Jason telling me it looked like I ate the girl in front of me at graduation. Anyway, as one could imagine, I had trouble choosing a picture for our Christmas card. I found something wrong with each and every shot. The shot to the left was taken after my graduation from TWu, where I waddled all the way across the stage.

The shot below was taken on Christmas morning. After a breif scare and an overnight stay in the hospital for observation, I was looking quite beautiful. Nothing says Merry Christmas like a shirt stretched to the farthest possible point. (I wore this shirt yesterday, and thankfully it was baggy.)

Wow. Here's to 35 pounds ago....

:)

Anne

Toddlers make great sitters.

It's true. Toddlers make good babysitters. Check out the sweetness below. After a riveting game of memory, it was time for pajamas and singing to get Andrew ready for bed. Jack and Macy helped with the singing. (By the way, I'm so sorry we judged, Great Uncle Al... Jack is a-maz-ing at memory. None of us had a chance.)

Another idea that seems to be lost on people over the age of 2 is naked eating. Naked eating is amazing. Andrew naked eats in the kitchen, in the living room, and sometimes on the changing table. He has no negative body issues about his baby boobies or his beautiful Buddha belly. He's Buddha-ful. The food goes on forever, and the cheeks, they never end.

I love Fat Baby. He's my favorite.

:)

Anne

PS: After several weeks at day care, the new sitter and I chat quite frequently. Finally feeling comfortable with me, she asked, "Do you always call him Fat Baby?". I laughed and replied, "Of course not, sometimes I call him Stinky Baby."

Where does the time go?

Has anyone seen November? It FLEW by. Holy smokes. It's damn near mid-December, and I'm finally posting about the glorious month of the Turkey.

Andrew spent the entire month doing two things: crawling and eating. Sometimes he did both at the same time. Sometimes he did one, so he could do the other.

And don't bother asking to share. He's definitely not down with that.

Oh yeah, he's been growing, too. He's been growing a few jacked up teeth and a baby mullet. It's mad trashy, but we love it. And it seems to make him happy. If only his tuxedo onesie still fit...

In November, we celebrated Thanksgiving, which is now Andrew's favorite holiday because the whole thing centers around his favorite past time: eating. Although offered a fabulous feast of holiday goodies, he stuck to the basics. He feasted on Ritz crackers, the occasional smear of mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. He had at least a 2 year old's share of pumpkin pie. Attaboy! Way to make mommy proud.

Hmmm... What's my plan of attack with this Turkey fellow?
No mercy for the bird.... take him down.

See you later, turkey! I have crackers to eat.

I had all these plans for a cute picture with the turkey, but Andrew had different ideas. What do most 9 month olds do after stuffing their faces? Go riding on motorcycles with their super cool Daddies. Chris tried many different safety helmets; however, in order to protect the entire head, he had to settle for one from Dumb and Dumber. Way to go, Daddy!

After Andrew ate and rode the hog around Oklahoma City, he took a crawl threw his new fun house from Aunt Lisa.

Thanks for a fabulous Thanksgiving everyone! We can't wait for Christmas!

:)

Anne

It's the Great Uncle Al, Charlie Brown

As with his birth many years ago, we enjoyed our traditional Halloween festivities with the lovable, huggable Great Uncle Al. The kids all had a blast playing with The Great Uncle Al. He arrived on a Wednesday and was treated to a rousing night at the bowling alley, which Andrew, Chris and I missed. However, we all had some quality family time on Halloween night and Saturday night.

The Halloween night photos are marinating in Martha's camera, and I will add those to the Chubby Cub 2 someday....

Here are the events from Saturday night's excitement.

Andrew, Macy, and Jack spent some quality one-on-one time with Al and took turns deciding if they trusted Uncle Great Al. I wouldn't say they welcomed immediately, but things began to look up for Al shortly thereafter.

Below: Macy has been caught on camera doing what she does best... looking for food.

Soon, Martha's kids were won over with food.

After the feeding, the love fest began with board games. Poor Great Unlce Al never had a chance. Jack may seem sweet, but he's a Spiderman Memory Shark. In the picture below, he is literally schooling Al in the ways of Spiderman Memory. Al lost 21 to 13 (I think...). Either way, Jack taunted him the rest of the night. There's nothing quite like the sting of losing to a four year old and his 2 year old sidekick.

After games, we all grabbed some of my mom's amazing brisket and settled in to watch football. We were so full throttle that Scott rigged another T.V. in the family. Everyone got to watch the game of their choosing. Although, we didn't all get the outcomes we would have chosen for our teams. Then we headed to the front room, so Great Uncle Al and the three Cheeseballs could have a photo op. Here are the shots worth sharing. Getting everyone to smile at the same time proved to be very tricky. In order to get Andrew to smile, I sang The Itsy Bitsy Spider. Great success!! Andrew smiled! Look at Macy... She was no match for the intoxicating rythym of The Itsy Bitsy Spider, so her hands had to sing along.

Now, if you didn't already notice, look closely at Great Uncle Al's eye color and Andrew. They are strikingly similar with those baby blues. We had lots of fun with Great Uncle Al, and maybe someday we'll make it up to visit him and Great Aunt Audrey in the frozen tundra.

:)

Anne

The Chubby Cub, Part 2

Pumpkin Carving. Even though all of us were battling some sort of respiratory junk, we spent a little time out in Wylie, so Andrew wouldn't miss his first Halloween. (Phew, he would never forgive us if we missed this.)

Anyway, the evening started with pumpkin carving. Shortly after seeing the disgusting mess that fills the pumpkins, all three kids were out on the pumpkins. So, the dads and Great Uncle Al (his visit will be a post of its own later) took to the dirty deed of scooping out the gunk. Apparently, Chris feels the same way about the pumpkin guts.

Look at that tail... seriously, I wanted to eat him up!

Trick-or-Treating. Ahh, yes... The wonderful Halloween tradition where parents teach their children it's ok to take candy from strangers. What about "stranger danger"? Let's just put that on the back burner for one night, so we can get loads of candy, calories, and cavities. Anyway, Andrew indulged in some more trick-or-treating by hitting the hot spots (hots spots like the five houses closest to Martha's).

Chris and I initially took Andrew out there to snap a few shots of the Chubby Cub with his cousins, Tinker Bell and The Ninja. After pictures, GREAT Uncle insisted that the Chubby Cub didn't get dressed up for nothin', and that he should go door to door. Who am I to deny Martha's neighbors the chance to see my super cute kid?

At the first house, the doorbell rings, and the neighbor opens the door to see an adorably confused Tinker Bell (cat ears, really?) , a very fierce Ninja, and an infant holding a pumpkin with 5 pieces of candy that he can't eat yet. Which one of these does not belong?

Where did those five pieces of candy come from if we hadn't started yet? Well, Uncle Jason gave everyone some "Starter" candy. In his words,"You don't want the neighbors to think this was our first house." Of course we wouldn't Jason. There's even a strategy to trick-or-treating. That's good to know. Andrew would have been the laughing stock.

I will be adding to this post as soon as Martha sends me the pumpkin carving pictures... They are hilarious. Until then, I must start a new post for the GREAT Uncle Al.

:) Happy Halloween (two weeks ago)

Anne

The Chubby Cub, Part 1

Andrew had his first Halloween, and he decided that he wanted to be a lion cub. After hours of searching, he decided to accentuate his fabulous, and relatively new, Buddha belly. Well, we will get to those fantastic pictures a little later. Let's take it chronologically for now.

The Pumpkin Patch. Andrew was feeling pretty sick that day, so the patch wasn't full of smiles. He's still a cute little booger though... He even has cute little boogers in all the pictures.
Remember, it's not the size of your pumpkin, Punkin'.

The Halloween Party. At Andrew's daycare, they have a Halloween party with trick-or-treating and everything! Trick-or-treating for an 8 month old?? That's what I thought. I almost took time off of work to watch the 6 babies being pushed in the giant stroller to go trick-or-treating around the nursery... I decided to tough it out and go to work. Andrew got to party hard without mom and dad there to embarrass him. In lieu of a costume, Andrew chose to sport a Halloween onesie. He really wanted to save the costume for "the real thing", or at least that's how he put it. Here's Andrew with his pumpkin wearing the Halloween ensemble for the cold morning of the Halloween shindig.



Stay tuned for The Chubby Cub, Part 2....

:)
Anne

PS: In the very near future: Pedialyte's for suckas and The Great Uncle Al.

3 more things

Along with some of the more subtle changes that happen with Andrew on a daily basis, he has achieved three more major milestones.


1. Sitting up: He can sit up by himself. This amazing feat is not to be confused with the earlier ability to sit when sat. Before, Andrew would stay in the seated position until he eventually fell over. He would neither get to the sitting position, nor would he leave it. He didn't know how to do either. Now, he can do it all. When he first mastered this trick, Chris went to pick him up from a nap. He says to me, "Have you been in to see him?" "No, why?", I respond a little confused. I go look, and there sitting up like a big boy with Lovie under one arm, is Andrew."



2. Eating Real Stuff: You know from the steak finger incident, he can handle solid foods. More accurately, he loves to eat. And he eats any and everything (except peas, which we discussed this summer). Andrew has just one simple rule: He has to have his own spoon.He doesn't really care if that spoon has food or not; however, he must have it. He has eaten so much that he has gained 1.5 pounds in 3 weeks. Wow, gotta love the fattie.







3. And, most importantly, Andrew James now crawls. He crawls so hard. He crawls so fast. Hence, I am losing my precious blogging time. For, although this blog began on October 14, I am finally getting the videos added on November 8. Wow! So, almost a month has past, and I am finally posting it. How's that for a timely glimpse into Andrew's life.



He's napping at this very moment, so cross your fingers for enough time to at least catch you up through the end of October....


We shall see!


Bonus! What's this? Extra Andrew footage?! Yes, it's your lucky day. So, he does 4 things, but I don't really know know what the 4th is... You be the judge.





:)

Anne

Steak Finger Sassy

We have had some rather strange eating developments for Andrew. He has two very small bottom teeth that appear to have magical powers.


Up until a week ago, those beautiful little chompers have minded their business and let Andrew do his job at consuming only milk. Life seemed to be going great. Then, Andrew discovered Ritz crackers at daycare. Oh, the joy that those round little wonders can create when gnawed on and mashed into an infants hair and clothing.


After a day or so of eating these fancy Ritz crackers, Andrew decides he is no longer a baby. He thinks to himself, "What is the next logical step from breast milk and the occasional Ritz cracker?" He surveyed the virtual cornucopia that daycare had to offer, weighed the pros and cons of each, and decided on a steak finger meal.

The report for the day before, and the other 7 months prior, was always the same: breast milk, breast milk, and breast milk. Today, the report sounded a little different. The very sweet girl in charge of his nursery says, " He had a bottle this (breast milk -good start), he refused apple sauce (bummer), then he ate a whole plate of steak fingers and mashed potatoes." Tap the brakes...

I hung up and called Chris immediately. We laughed hysterically picturing Andrew snuggling into his high with a fresh steak finger basket from D.Q. Dipping each bite into his bowl of gravy and discussing the failing economy and who he planned to vote for.

I called daycare back to make sure we were discussing the same child, and we were. I told her I didn't care what he ate; however, I would like to slow it down with the meat. Now he's full throttle with anything edible, as well as many things that are not.

Welcome to solids, get ready for some weird poop.

:)
Anne

I know I'm biased but....

I know every parent thinks that their kid is so amazing, so cute, so smart, so whatever. I am now one of those parents. I cropped out all the yucky grownups, but I left Diane's new baby turtle the only place it should logically go: Andrew's sweet head.

Wow.

:)

Anne

So sad...

Being a working mom, I fear many things. I have second guessed my choice and third guessed it and so on....

Flashback to several weeks ago as I prepared myself to go back to work, and I let my son go spend his days with a new babysitter. I had doubts, but everyone reassured me. I reassured myself. After a few days with the new sitter, mother's intuition started to creep up, and little signs started to point me in a scary direction. First, a hellacious diaper rash makes me question if she changes him regularly. Next, a suspicious rash around his neck, drool stains on his car seat, and a new, overt hatred of his car seat, all point to long hours of time spent in his car seat. We talk with her, she reassures us, and we all go about our business. I go to my daycare guru, my sister. I ask, " How do I know? How do I know that she loves on him enough? How do I know that I not being to overbearing? Am I being hypercritical of the situation?" My wise older sister says to me, "Annie, you have to go with your gut. You'll know if something's not right. You'll know."

Flash forward to two weeks ago when I followed the sitter into the nursery. Andrew played happily on the floor as my eyes scanned the room. Three, six, seven, eight, and Andrew makes nine. My heart dropped. I felt nauseous. What's going on? She's only allowed six, right? I didn't say anything. I'm holding my son, counting and recounting, but I can't muster up a word. I make it to the car, and I call Chris. Then, that number starts to play with my mind. Nine kids. Wait, I didn't see the two babies in there that usually spend their days with Andrew. Where were they? They make eleven. Yikes, this can't be right.


That night, Chris and I talk about the situation, and he decides to talk to the Health department. We don't want to cause trouble we just want to touch base. Luckily, the health department just did one of their semiannual random inspections, and she passed with flying colors! Phew! One thing: she doesn't have Andrew listed as being at the daycare that day. Hmmm... He was there that day. Uh, oh.


Flash forward to a week ago. The Health inspector does another random check, and no Andrew. We assure her that Chris dropped Andrew at the sitter that morning. Later that day, a different health inspector goes. He questions, " Are there any other babies are sleeping in another room?" She answers no. "How old is the youngest baby you have?" Ten months. Wrong again, my dear woman. Andrew should be there, and Andrew is only seven months old. Now the health inspector calls Chris, "Are you sure your wife didn't pick Andrew up already?" Gulp. Chris calls me and shares this.


For the next eleven minutes, I shake uncontrollably and tears stream down my face. I know he's there. He has to be there, but he's just hidden. I start to feel ill. That thought dances around my head: he's hidden. He's hidden and, even worse, that means he's alone. He's hidden, alone. No one is watching him because he has to be hidden for her to "pass" with the health inspector. I can't calm myself down until the phone vibrates in my hand. Deep breath, it's Chris's cell phone. In a muffled voice, he says "Andrew's here. I have him, and he's fine. I'll call you back." The weight from my shoulders lifts, and I just wish I could be the one holding him. I know he's fine now, but I want him. I want him with me. I want to kiss his sweet, round cheeks, and I want to squeeze the rolls on his legs. I want him now.


I left work, and waited for Chris to bring me my baby. At that point, Andrew was my baby and mine alone. (Sorry Daddy.) Once he was in my arms, I settled down considerably. (Sometimes nursing helps mommy, too.)

Poor Chris had to deal with seeing this woman meltdown and as her livelihood crumbled in front of her and her children. We felt so guilty about what we had done to her. What?!@ I know. We just keep reminding ourselves we did the right thing.

The next day, Chris and I took the day off to find a new daycare for Andrew. Here is the feeling I had: Well, I picked the last sitter, and it was a horrible mistake. How do I know that this one will be better? I had to walk in circles to had tear-filled eyes when Chris asked all the important questions about breast milk and daily routines. Not only were all the good places taken, but the directors of these places couldn't believe we didn't have arrangements already in place. Then we would simply share that our previous arrangement "didn't work out".

After 24 hours of stress (more if you consider the week of worry before), we found a fabulous place (which I won't name here) for the baby. Needless to say, it fosters a completely open concept with no places to hide babies. ("Take that baby hider!", I say as I shake my angry fist in the air.) :)

He seems to really love this new place. With the constant interaction from his two caregivers and the other infants, Andrew is making some serious developmental progress. He's eating solids like nobody's business (Steak fingers, anyone?), getting closer to crawling (backwards is a direction, too), and he can sit up on his own!

Well, I started this post LONG ago. I had to stop on numerous occasions because as you all know, I am a tender soul. Every emotion comes with tears, and luckily I am done with tears over this situation. There are so many joyful tears to shed over this fabulous baby. So, stayed tuned for posts like Steak Finger Sassy, The Baby Siren, and having to change work clothes after.... well, you'll have to tune in to hear details.

Although the post will say 9/23/08, I am finally able to finish it and put this issue to bed on a cool Sunday morning... October 5.

Here's to being a peanut.
;)

Anne

Whole other level of loogie

I don't think that loogie is a real word, but no other word packs a punch like it. It's not just spit. It's a loogie. According to dictionary.reference.com, a "loogie is a large wad of spit or phlegm". That definition doesn't even come close to evoking the image that I need to convey... Here's how it all went down, so prepare yourself. this story is not for the faint of heart.

Andrew, Chris and I have battled this cold/cough/sore throat monster for two weeks. Chris and I can take drugs to help us cough when we want and stop when want. Poor Andrew must tough it out. For an infant, "working it out" comes at any time, day or night. Bless his poor sweet heart. And bless ours, too. In the beginning, he slept through the coughing spells and the coughing just kept us up. No worries. It's a small price to pay, so that your kiddo will feel better. Then, the cough became a little more rattly and started to wake him up.

So, the nurse instructs us to bring Andrew into the shower with us, so he can "work it out". He started coughing and I could tell it was working. Yay! Then it really started working. And then, all hell broke loose. (Literally, it must have broken loose from somewhere in the deep dark depths of Andrew.) After breaking loose, it found the only target available.... good ole mom. Yay, loogies! It was projectile from the nose and mouth. Thankfully, after many mornings of spit up, poop, pee, and vomit, I know better than to wear work clothes any where near my beautiful baby boy. I handily passed the now chipper young man off to my freshly showered husband, and I took my second shower for the morning.

After all this, I know that I am officially a mom. How do I know this? I didn't realize how gross the whole thing was (loogies on me, in my bra, on the rug, etc.) until well after the fact. The only thing I kept thinking was "Yay, it's finally out of his system. Now he can feel better."

The things we do in the name of mommy-dom...

:)
Anne

Lovie

A few weeks ago, the doctor said that sometimes babies need to tell an inanimate object about their days. She's crazy... or so I thought. Each night, no matter how tired, fussy, or seemingly asleep Andrew is, he has a long conversation with Lovie. Can you blame him for wanting to talk to his best friend? Absolutely not!

Poor Andrew. He has to be a big boy all day. He takes naps, eats solids, and plays with "big kids" at Miss May's all alone. Oh, if only his Lovie could be there.

Poor Lovie. His best friend, Andrew, spends all day "at work" being a "big boy" at Miss May's. He waits patiently for his Andrew to return home to their crib. What a boring life. Lovie is such a dedicated best friend that he doesn't care.

So, when bedtime rolls around, Andrew perks up the second he nuzzles Lovie. (He does this even if he falls asleep on my shoulder or if he's been screaming from being overtired.) It's like he forgot that Lovie was waiting. When he remembers, the day's events flood his mind and overwhelm him.

Chris and I anxiously sit down in the living room waiting to hear if Andrew will gently fall to sleep or cry for a bit. Neither happens. Instead, we hear a small voice recounting his day to his best friend. With strings of D-da-da-da's and th-tha-tha's, Andrew shares each detail of his busy day with Miss May.

We giggle as we translate his baby talk,and we think it goes something like this... "And then, I met these 2-year-olds. Yeah, I know 2-year-olds are so old. After that, I had apple sauce mixed with cereal. No, I'm not a baby anymore... Lovie, I even hold my own bottle. Dude, it's wild over there. It's a whole other ball game. I wish you could see it... By the way, I'm real sorry about what I did to your ear. I'm still getting used to this tooth. It's kinda sharp."

Holy crap. I have a 7 month old. It hits me sometimes, and I still don't understand. A student I had last year, who is now in first grade, said to me, "Mrs. Shacklett, how's baby Andrew?" I was surprised that this 6-year-old remembered his name after an entire summer and equally delighted to have an excuse to talk about him in front of a captive audience. I replied, "He's fabulous and getting so big. Thank you for asking." With a sweet head tilt and in front of that captive audience, she says,"So, is he big enough to come to school then? 'Cause last year you said that when Andrew got bigger he would come to visit. Is he coming during our library day?"

Crap. They remembered. They all remembered. I guess Andrew will be making a visit to P-wood sooner rather than later.

:)

Anne

Bowling for bucks!

The Gesino Bunch is bowling for bucks! Actually, we are trying to raise money for Big Brothers, Big Sisters through an event called Bowl for Kids' Sake. Our goal is $500 for our team, so we would really appreciate any donation to help us reach or exceed this goal. Our event will take place on September 25.
If you would like to make a donation, follow the link below. It will ask you to enter a dollar amount, and then you will need to hit continue. After that you will need to fill out all your information and your credit card information, too. Thanks for your support!

PLEASE CLICK the LINK BELOW to DONATE:
Bowl for Kids' Sake.



Thanks again for your help with our bowling for bucks!

:)
Anne & the Gesino Bunch

Go Big Red!

GO BIG RED! Go Big Red! The Cornhusker crew was out in full effect to support Andrew in his first college football experience.

Here's Daddy, Mommy, and Andrew... and his first football.

The Shackletts and Sourals preparing for game time!

Andrew seems to already be a fan.

Yay, football!

:)

Anne
PS: The pincher returns. My latest pay back is crazy hair... he doesn't seem too upset, though.

Goodnight sweetheart

Our newest routine has me more thankful than ever. For the past several weeks, we do bath, lotion, nursing, rolling around, story, and bed. Things were going great. Then, Andrew changed. He got cranky a little early one night, so I decided to sing in an attempt to calm him down. I rocked and sang the first thing that came to mind... Twinkle, Twinkle. Holy smokes, it worked. It worked better than I could have planned. It was amazing. Now, rocking and singing Twinkle, Twinkle (about thirty times in a row) is an essential part of the routine. I have to admit, it's as much for me as for Andrew.

After about 10 minutes of heaven, I stop rocking and singing. Daddy and I read him a story, and he falls asleep with Lovie in his bed.

You can't buy snuggles that sweet.

:)

Anne

PS It wouldn't be fair if I didn't mention that Big Sis Lady helps, too.