New Charlie

Ahem. . . Attention Please.

So. Right now we're in Ohio, which is crazy enough, but are you ready to hear what the next stop will be for the Gilbreth Train?



What?!

Connecticut?! (Had to learn how to spell that just for this occasion.)

John was accepted to the University of Connecticut's Endodontic Program, which means that John is going to be an ENDODONIST!

To clarify, John will be a dentist that specializes in root canals.

To further clarify, John will be doing only root canals every day for the rest of his career.

To even further clarify, John will love doing only root canals every day for the rest of his career.

And we are all thrilled. THRILLED! It's hard to explain what a big deal this is to our family.

Even though we are sad to leave Ohio so soon (because we actually like it here) we're so SO SO excited for John to start this program in July. Whoo hoo! Can you tell how exited we are? I only break out the large font for extremely special occasions.

Classy

Anna took this. I can report it is an accurate depiction.

Halloween and all that stuff

Halloween has come and gone and November is here already. Here's a brief look at our Halloween festivities in a mere sixteen photos. Introducing Glinda and the Wicked Witch of the West.



Trunk-or-Treat. This is the only photo of Charlie in his costume, who slept soundly through most of the fun of this week. He was a duck.



Nora waiting to see Hailey in her school's Halloween parade.



Check out the air Nora has on that jump! She was so excited to see Hailey in a parade.



Can you spot Hailey?



One day we woke up, and our backyard tree that has resisted changing color transformed into bright yellow overnight! The girls loved the leaves, and by the next day, all the leaves had dropped and the tree is bare.





Daily dose of Charlie.



Annual pumpkin carving. Hailey wanted a kitty, Nora wanted a Ghostie,



And Charlie wanted a classic jack-o-lantern. I think he did a great job for a four-week-old.



Glinda.



Wicked Witch.



Trick-or-treating.



Whoops! There goes Hailey's hat! It was windy trick-or-treating.



I mean this as a compliment: I think Hailey is the BEST wicked witch ever.



Happy Halloween!

Random

Charlie the King: 27 days old.



Princess Nora: Three Years.



She spent a whole hour playing in the baby carseat. Um, regression?



Homage to the "Anna pose." Hailey says Be Cool.



Nora loves little bro.



Hailey loves matching her clothes to little bro.



THE Barbie Cake. Thi really deserves its own separate blog post.



Enjoying the last little bits of warm weather.



Proof that I'm still around.

Short on words? Why, yes. I am. Just typed this whole thing one-handed.

3

Happy Birthday Nora!

Charlie feeds the Ducks

Well, okay. Technically, at five days old, baby Charles is not yet able to "feed the ducks," but he did sleep peacefully in his car seat while big sisters had a wonderful FHE with Grandma.

Details

btw, he IS this cute in real life.

Demeanor of baby: Good. Doesn't cry much. Takes over-handling from toddlers very well.

C-section?: Yes. Long story short, after talking to several doctors we determined that the nerve damage I received in my leg when I had Nora could have happened from the pressure from labor instead of the epidural. We will never know for sure, but erred on the side of caution. I don't like c-sections, but I dislike not walking even more.

Walking? Legs working this time?: Yes and yes. All is fine with my legs. It's nice to not have a cane or brace this time.

Girls handling it okay?: Yes, BUT they have had Grandmas giving them constant attention up until yesterday, so we'll still have to see. . . Nora found a baby bottle from Charles shower presents, filled it up with water, and took it to bed with her. Really cool object or large step in regression? Only time will tell.

Complications?: Not really, but has anyone heard of referred shoulder pain from an agitated diaphragm or gas being caught in the abdominal cavity and traveling? I don't know what it ended up being diagnosed as, except as the worst hour and most intense pain of my life. But all is well.

Is having a son all John thought it would be?: and more. Stoked totally sums it up for him.

Charles? Really?: Oh yeah! After a week he's starting to grow in to the name. The kid was nameless for a day and a half and was "Henry" for about an hour. Didn't fit. I would still like to call him "Charlie" but the girls are resistant to any nick-names. So we'll see if we can slide that in later on. But you may also refer to him as "The King" because, as my sister pointed out, all the first and middle names we were considering were English royalty.

So, Hail to The King!

Coming home

the day home from the hospital:

After being tackled by two very excited big sisters (ouch, a little softer please!), eating a wonderful non-hospital food dinner cooked by John's mom, catching up on four days of stories and thoughts from Hailey, reading books, getting unpacked, and kissing everyone goodnight, I put little Charles down on the cushion of the couch next to me and was about to change his diaper and move on with my night, but I watched him instead.

He was awake, and pinwheeling his arms towards his face, trying desperately to get his fingers into his open mouth. First one arm, then the other. He'd reach his hand behind his ear, and slide it down his cheek, and then his hand would fly by his lips, and his head would turn, following the sailing fingers with his open mouth trying to catch them. He looked (and probably was) like someone trying for the first time to operate a crane or some complicated piece of machinery, and the exercise seemed to take every ounce of his concentration. After about five patient minutes of his systematic effort, he was rewarded by catching his index finger and thumb by his gums and sucking on them furiously. He looked satisfied.

And then he stopped sucking, and his attention was completely fixed on the back cushion of the red couch with a bright yellow blanket draped over it. His eyes darted from the cushion to the blanket. Cushion to blanket. red. yellow. red. yellow. He was completely motionless while observing, and it dawned on me that he was noticing contrast for the first time. What was he thinking? I have no idea, but he was learning something, and I watched him do it.

The Lightbulb of Understanding went off in my adult brain, and I had a new appreciation of raising a baby and being able to witness all of the "firsts." Every day a hundred little testimonies to the miracle of our bodies and spirits.

And also I can officially say

I'm In Love.

Actually, we all are.



Even Nora.

He's Here

7:49am

Backyard dew with just a hint of fall.

Nora's 'fier party

We've been discussing the need to do this for several months now. Nora, who is almost three, along with resisting potty training, still has enjoyed the comfort of her pacifier, or "'fier," as it is called around these parts.

We decided that if we were going get rid of her pacifier, the most merciful time to do this would be right now, before the baby comes, so she wouldn't have to kick the habit with the constant temptation of the baby's pacifiers everywhere.

So, with Nora's help in planning, we put together a "fier" party to say goodbye to her pacifiers. She decided that an awesome party would have hot dogs and balloons and cupcakes. After dinner we tied one sacrificial pacifier to the bunch of balloons and let Nora watch as they disappeared into the sky. She did this in exchange for three new tiny dolls for her collection.

Nora has done really well, but has had her moments of going to bed and crying, "I wish I was a baby again and could have my 'fiers back!" I think that the transition has been just as hard for John, who is not thrilled about watching his baby Nora grow up. If Nora keeping her 'fier meant that she would stay his cute, adorable, two-year-old forever, I'm sure he would have agreed to it in a heartbeat and rocked her on his lap until the end of time.

But meanwhile, she continues to grow and just informed John today he can't call her "Nowee" anymore.
She prefers Nora.
And John's not happy about that.